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

‘Not a joke.’

‘Would you really do that?’

‘I really would.’

‘…Why?’

‘Can that wait? We can talk when I get there.’

‘I have to ask, are you a Republican now? A Trump supporter?’

‘Wha—No! Rachel, why would you think that?’

‘Because people change.’

‘How different did I seem that night? Because it felt to me as if nothing had changed.’

‘That was just sex. We were always good at it.’

‘It wasn’t “just” anything, Rachel.’ He paused. He frowned. ‘It was everything.’

It was certainly how I had felt. But…‘You go horse-riding now. You’re a bit holy. You’re not a vegetarian.’

‘These days you’re a gardener, I was always slightly holy and even though there are times I eat meat, I’m mostly vegetarian. But the fundamentals of who you are or I am, they haven’t changed. You always made me feel safe. Since we reconnected, it’s been the same.’

*

About an hour later, he called. ‘Are you still at your mum and dad’s?’

‘Yes. Where are you?’

‘In my car. Heading to the airport.’

‘Seriously?’

‘If you could go home to your house? Take tomorrow off work?’

‘Luke! Is this really—?’

‘Layover in O’Hare, then landing in Dublin, just before five in the morning your time.’

Stunned, I said, ‘I could come and pick you—’

‘No. Thank you. I’d prefer privacy for…Yeah, a taxi is fine. Rachel, go home. Wait for me. I’ll be there in the morning.’

At my house, Kate and Devin were all action. A large shopping bag stood on the kitchen table and they seemed to be emptying the contents of the fridge into it. Wildness was in the air, a sense of last-minute lawless looting.

Crunchie was clicking about, looking very concerned.

Devin looked up. ‘Uncle Luke called.’ Overlapping him, Kate said, ‘We have to go to Devin’s parents. Like, now.’

‘Okaaay. Are you leaving me anything? Some chocolate? Apples?’

Ignoring my request, Kate asked, ‘When can we come back?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe in a week?’ I laughed slightly too much. ‘I’ll text you.’ Then began laughing again.

I rang work, booked time off, then took a look in my fridge. It was almost empty, so I went to the fancy grocer’s in Greystones and every ridiculous thing that caught my eye, I threw into my basket: truffled honey; small yellow tomatoes; things I thought were plums but were actually more tomatoes, purple this time. Crozier Blue cheese; abnormally big strawberries; attractively packaged mushroom soup even though mushrooms tasted to me like death; bananas, because you can’t go wrong with bananas, unless of course, they’re plantains (as three days later I discovered they were); chocolates from the Skelligs; smoked almonds; a large bouquet of white peonies; and finally, ice-cream, lots of it, and four pizzas—probably the only practical purchases.