BooksBarbecue
Back Again, Rachel
Chapters (98)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. 92
  96. 93
  97. 94
  98. Acknowledgements

To my shock, I saw that he was crying.

‘—by staying, I was only making everything worse.’

67

‘Luke!’ I moved towards him.

‘No.’ He swung away from me. ‘Don’t.’ Stepping well back, he wiped his eyes with a rough swipe of his jacket sleeve. ‘I’m fine. I’ll leave now.’

‘Don’t. Please. Wait a moment. Just until you’re okay.’

‘I’m grand.’

It suddenly seemed wrong to be carrying out this intense, emotional discussion on my doorstep, on a dark, chilly night. ‘Luke, hey, would you like to come in?’

He met my eyes. He looked worn out—and something else. Unlikely as it seemed, he might have been amused. ‘Yeah,’ he said, hinting at irony. ‘Yeah, Rachel, I would.’

I stood aside. ‘Come on then.’

With a small smile, he shook his head. ‘I should go now.’

…What the hell? Yes? No?

He was definitely leaving, backing away towards the big motorbike parked on the kerb. Baffled, I watched him.

Over his shoulder, he clicked his key fob and the bike behind him chirped into life. ‘Bye, Rachel,’ he called, his voice carried by the night air.

*

Inside, I tried FaceTiming Quin but he didn’t answer. I felt desolate—his common sense, his lack of sentimentality, was very grounding.

Because I didn’t know what else to do, I went to bed. Just as I was drifting off to sleep, a question jolted me awake: If you hadn’t asked Carlotta for sleeping pills, would you still be married to Luke? With another child?

Had that one request triggered a domino effect which had completely altered the path of my life, of Luke’s life?

But who ever knew what was in store for us? And considering that we’d lost a child, it was remarkable that both Luke and I had gone on to rebuild good lives and be happy again. It wasn’t what we would have chosen but we were okay now.

It was all fine.

68

‘Harlie Clarke?’ Hector said. ‘Been crying nonstop since yesterday afternoon. Didn’t want any dinner. Went to bed early. Chalkie came down around 1 a.m. and complained that the crying was keeping them awake.’

‘Excellent,’ Ted said approvingly.

‘Good stuff.’ There was general agreement around the table.

‘Ella has been very quiet, Dennis is in good form again, Chalkie is still raging, Bronte seems calm and happy, Trassa the same, and Lowry, your newbie, has been telling everyone his sad stories—cruel father, ungrateful girlfriend, you know how it goes.’

In the Abbot’s Quarter, Chalkie was already there, surrounded by a force field of fury. Then in came Dennis.

‘Bee-soo, Rachel.’ He blew me a kiss. ‘Bee-soo, Chalkie.’

Chalkie glanced up. ‘Bee-soo yourself, you fucking loon.’

‘Oy, oy, oy!’ Dennis recoiled. ‘No need for that sort of talk. I’m smartening up my act. Bronte has inspired me. She’s classy, so she is, fierce classy. And here’s the woman herself! Bee-soo, Bronte.’