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

Returning home, I put the flowers in a jug, then changed my bedsheets, had a bath, washed my hair, covered myself in Crème de Corps, painted my toenails and scouted out my shortie satin pyjamas from the back of a drawer. An impractical gift from Claire, I’d been saving the slippery, slidey top and shorts for a special occasion. Which—unless I’d misunderstood something fundamental here—seemed to have arrived.

*

I was woken by a text—which meant I’d been asleep! In a taxi. Be with you by 5.30am. L x

He was here, in the country, less than half an hour away. I set up sentry by the living-room window, content to do nothing but wait.

Outside, the sky was pitch black—my house was far enough from the city to escape the ever-present purple glow. After a while, a faint disturbance occurred in the darkness, a diffused yellowness, which grew into car headlights. Then came the sound of an engine. A taxi pulled up in the road—curved and humming, looking like the only car on earth.

A man got out—tall, longish hair, leather jacket. He was carrying a bag. An exchange of low voices took place with the driver. Then the man turned from the car and came towards my house.

As he reached the door, I opened it.

‘Babe.’ Luke laughed in delight. ‘Hello.’

I pulled him into the hall, patting his shoulders through his jacket, having to convince myself that he was real.

‘You’re really here,’ I told him.

‘I’m really here.’ He dropped his bag.

‘You’ve come all this way.’

‘I’ve come all this way.’ He slid his arms around my waist, his hands on my slippery pyjamas.

‘But why, Luke?’

‘Because…’ he said, ‘and I really need you to listen to this, Rachel Walsh.’

‘I’m listening.’

‘Because. I. Love. You.’

‘Oh, thank God,’ I blurted in a sharp exhale of relief.

‘You’re saying this is…good news?’

I gave him a look.

‘Anything to say to me…?’

‘I love you too, Luke Costello.’

His smile was so wide, so happy. Taking my face in his hands, he moved his thumbs across the lilac circles under my eyes. ‘Have you slept?’

‘About three hours.’

‘Not enough.’ As his body stirred to life, he grimaced. ‘Rachel, ignore it. It’s got a mind of its own around you. I apologize for it. Come on, up those stairs, you need to sleep.’

‘But—’

‘Shhh. There’s gonna be plenty of time for that.’