‘You need to have counselling, Tully,’ he said. ‘You’ve been doing this most of your life and, as you said yourself, you can’t stop.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘And I agree – I’ll have counselling. I’ll do anything. Whatever it takes.’

‘Good,’ Sonny said. It was hard to read his expression. For a moment Tully thought he was going to say something more, but instead he just handed her the bag of cash and walked away.

25

RACHEL

Rachel was going on a date – for real this time. She’d spent the day on the edge of nausea, her urge to cancel her date with Darcy warring with her desire to fulfil the commitment she’d made. The whole thing just felt so damn strange. After all, she had never been on a proper date. As a teen, she’d talked to boys at school, and occasionally they hung out on the weekends at the train station or bowling alley, but they’d never gone out for dinner. Never had to sit across from each other at a table and talk. This was an entirely different, terrifying beast.

When Rachel arrived at the restaurant, five minutes early, Darcy wasn’t there yet. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. She took a seat at the bar. Her shoulders felt tense, tight. In fact, her entire body did. There were some laminated menus already laid out, and she picked one up and surveyed it to distract herself. Darcy had asked her to choose the venue and she had selected a popular, mid-priced Mexican restaurant, reasoning that Darcy was unlikely to be able to afford anywhere fancier on what she was paying him (though she fully intended to pay her own way). She wondered, not for the first time, how he supported himself. According to the agency she’d used to find him, he’d been unemployed for a couple of years. And though he was now working for her, he was only doing the occasional job; he wasn’t earning anything like a living wage. Rachel had never cared that much about money, but one did need a certain amount to live. Maybe Darcy had another source of income? As a drug dealer, perhaps? It was yet another thing she needed to find out about him.

There was a mirror opposite her and she used it to check her appearance. She wasn’t horrified by what she saw. She was wearing a black dress and a denim jacket and sandals. Her hair was tied back in a low ponytail, as usual. Rachel knew she was attractive, and carrying a few extra kilos did nothing to change this fact. And yet, she felt an intense hatred for . . . not the kilos, but what they represented. Who they connected her to.

‘Hello, hello,’ Darcy said, appearing behind her. ‘You beat me!’

‘I was starting to think you were a no-show,’ she said with a calm she didn’t feel.

‘As if.’ Darcy sat on the stool beside her. ‘Muffin compares to you.’