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

‘I think it’s going to be…’ It took me a long time to locate the exact word. ‘…fun. He’s focused on what he wants. And he wants…me?’ We both fell around laughing. ‘I thought I’d never fancy a man again.’

‘And you fancy Quin?’

‘Oh my God, yes! I am weak for him.’

Claire clapped her hands together with happiness. ‘Life in the old dog yet. And I’m talking about you, not him!’

‘Now that I know how…’ I felt myself colour. ‘…lovely it is, it’s all I want to do.’

‘That rock-climbing he does? Has he…abs? And stuff?’

‘Yes. Abs! Arms! Some manscaping! But not too much. Definitely not enough to make me feel inadequate.’

‘He sounds perfect.’

14

‘Great news, Mum!’ Claire read from her iPad. ‘All five of your sisters have RSVP’d.’

‘They have?’ Mum looked pitifully happy. ‘Even Imelda?’

‘All of them. That’s what “all” means—all, you cretin! And their husbands. Everyone’s coming.’

Mum’s eyes were suspiciously shiny. ‘That’s just…’ Her mouth trembled. ‘…great news. So when I arrive at the hotel, I’m thinking that Margaret and Dad will lead me in. Should I wear a blindfold?’

‘No.’ Claire was brusque. ‘Health and safety. In other words, you’re bound to trip and fall. Not a chance worth taking.’

Mum’s iPad started bing-bonging. ‘Here’s Anna,’ she said. ‘Sweet Jesus, what do I press?’ She made some panicky jabs and, more by luck than judgement, Anna’s face appeared on the screen. ‘Hey, Mum, hey, Claire. Rachel! How was the funeral? Did you see Luke?’

‘Saw him, he saw me, but we didn’t speak.’

‘So, how did he…seem?’

‘Still hot,’ Claire called.

‘I didn’t mean…I was wondering if he was…’ She was fooling no one.

‘No leather trousers,’ Claire elaborated. ‘Just a suit.’

‘That’s too bad…Are you okay, Rachel? Call me if you need to talk. So how are the party plans going?’

Mum said, ‘Do you swear to me, Anna Walsh, on your bended knees, that you have eighty Lucerne Bio serums for the party bags?’

‘I swear to you. And loads of other stuff too. Your sisters will be so impressed, they’ll be sick.’

A disturbance at the door heralded the arrival of Helen, in a dark form-fitting tracksuit, her hair up in a high pony.

‘You look like an assassin!’ Mum was all admiration.

‘Fecken wish I was.’ Helen scanned the room and focused on me. ‘You, girl! Report on Luke Costello. How was his crotch?’

‘It was his mother’s funeral,’ Mum said, her tone sharp. ‘Have some respect.’

‘He was in a suit,’ Anna called from New York.