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

‘Well, sure. I can show you some of the changes. They’ve converted the old cow house into a studio, for yoga workshops or painting schools. Residential ones, like. Brigit’s new career, hopefully. There’s a painting school later in the summer. I’m working at it.’

‘Doing what?’ Luke seemed confused. ‘Counselling?’

‘Excuse me! I have other skills too, you know.’

‘Oh, I know.’

‘I’ll be helping Bridge. Cooking for the guests.’

‘What?’ he spluttered. ‘You?’

‘Hahahaha! Yeah! Things really have changed. I can cook now.’

Over-dramatically, he blinked. ‘I can’t even.’

Back in the day, neither Luke nor I could cook. Because we managed the occasional stir-fry, we thought we could, but when it mattered we discovered we couldn’t.

Suddenly I said, ‘Do you remember the night my managers from Hope House were coming to dinner—’

‘—do I remember? Oh my God!’

I’d been angling for a permanent position and fear had made me embark on a menu which was far too ambitious. Luke had been my assistant and we were both fathoms out of our depth.

‘You were yelling instructions from the book,’ Luke said. ‘What was it you kept saying? “Thinly sliced! Luke, these shallots aren’t thin enough!” ’

‘And you said, “They’re so thin, they’re fucking invisible.” ’

‘Then I tore off my apron—’

‘—which I’d made you wear—’

‘—threw it on the floor and announced, “I QUIT!” ’

We both got a wild fit of laughing at the memory. I was helpless, so was he and the release was joyous. Every uncomfortable emotion held in my body, from the very pit of my stomach, up through the clenched tension of my chest, just spun away. It was gorgeous.

Wiping my face, I picked up my screen. My eyes met Luke’s and I said, ‘I QUIT!’ And it began all over again.

When we had regained control, Luke said, ‘I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that. So, I should go to bed, you need to get on with your day. And we’ll talk on her anniversary?’

‘Yes. Yep.’

‘Try to not worry about Helen.’

‘Thanks.’ I smiled, still on a high. ‘Take care.’

And he was gone.

*

Had I imagined it?

Or had he actually been flirting?

When he’d agreed that I had skills other than counselling? The twinkle in his eye? The way he’d said, ‘Oh, I know’?

Had I imagined it?

Or was this what friendship with him was like?

86

The last ten minutes of the drive were always the most beautiful. On both sides of the bumpy boreen were theatres of green-grey rocks or fields that plunged and rose steeply.

Overhead, a massive expanse of mauve-coloured sky threatened rain—torrential, by the looks of things. But in seconds, the clouds had changed to a less ominous grey-blue, and just as I arrived at Brigit’s house, the sun was blazing.