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

That was addiction, the ugly truth of it. Some addicts would never recover.

Meanwhile, there were five people here tonight who were getting well and I’d played a part in it. There was a lot to be happy about.

‘Sit in here with us.’ Chalkie urged me into the middle of their cluster of chairs.

‘All that time you were running group,’ Bronte mused, ‘you were in recovery?’

‘We were terrified of you,’ Giles admitted.

‘And kinda obsessed,’ Roxy said. ‘Wondering what you did when you weren’t scaring us shitless.’

‘If you had a cat?’

‘A boyfriend?’

‘A girlfriend?’

‘Where you bought your sneakers…?’

‘No wonder you were so good at it.’ Bronte was still chewing over my dual identity. ‘Are all the counsellors in recovery?’

‘In the Cloisters? I think I’m the only one at the moment. But the woman who was my counsellor when I was there—’

That made them squeal. ‘You went to the Cloisters too!’

‘Yes.’ They were so cute. ‘She was in recovery.’

Sister Josephine. The greatest of them all.

Almost ten years ago, she’d died, having helped literally hundreds of us get clean and sober. She was still my inspiration every single day.

92

Four nights later—a Monday—I zipped into the Dundrum parking lot, heading for Aldi. I had twenty minutes before it closed.

Hurrying past Marks & Spencer, making for the top floor, the over-lit mall was almost deserted. Someone had once told me this was the very best time to do your weekly shop.

Behind me, a person called, ‘Rachel?’

I turned. It was—of all people—Quin. ‘Hey!’ Spontaneously, I gathered him into a hug. Smiling into his face, I declared, ‘It’s so nice to see you.’

In less excitable but still friendly tones, he said, ‘And it’s so nice to see you.’

We stood, grinning at each other—which was strange because our last encounter had been absolutely horrible.

‘How are you?’

‘I am…’ He had to think about it. ‘I’m okay. You? What are you up to?’

I slid my hands from his shoulders, I shouldn’t be pawing him. ‘Going to Aldi. You?’

‘Going in here.’ He pointed at Marks & Spencer.

‘Of course you are.’ I’d just remembered who’d given me the tip-off about the Monday night shopping—Quin! Who else?

‘Have you time for a drink?’ he asked.

‘Sure. Where should we go? Oh, you’ll know somewhere fabulous.’

He cast a hunted glance around the glaringly bright concourse. ‘The best I can come up with is the café in House of Fraser. Jesus, I can’t believe I just said that.’

‘Haha, come on, let’s go.’

‘I’d honestly prefer to sit in a shop doorway and drink bottles of Buckfast. There has to be someplace better…Got it. Five-minute walk outside. You up for that?’

‘Sure.’

Escaping the glass and chrome monolith, we made our way along Dundrum’s original small-town streets.