Chapter 25 #2
“I think I should go home.” Rachel put her half-drunk glass of wine on the table.
“Sorry. I’m tired and not in the mood. I don’t want to bring you all down.
” She gave everyone an apologetic smile, but they all were looking shocked and then worse, worried.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Just need a good night’s sleep.
” She turned to Lily, who was frowning at her.
“Stick to a half-pint of cider,” she instructed sternly, and Lily rolled her eyes.
Claire, Rachel saw, was talking to Dan, who had softened slightly in the last half hour, although he still resembled a slab of concrete.
Grabbing her bag, Rachel shouldered her way through the pub, only to stop when Rob called her name.
“You’ve missed a few quizzes lately,” he remarked as she paused by the bar. “You areet?”
“I’m fine, Rob, just have a lot going on.”
He filled a pint with foaming beer and pushed it across the top of the bar to a woman who was nearly spilling out of her top. Rachel didn’t recognize her, and Rob didn’t take his eyes off Rachel.
“Anything I can do?”
“No, not really.” She felt a flicker of guilt for flirting with Rob a few weeks ago. His concern now made her squirm.
He nodded towards the door as he filled another pint. “Then maybe you want to go see what’s parked outside your house.”
She tensed with alarm as she thought of Meghan’s bloodshot eyes, her blotchy face. “What . . . ?”
Rob smiled and shook his head to dispel the nameless fears that had been circling. “A navy Lexus. Andrew West’s car, if I’m not mistaken. I saw it when I took out the bins a few minutes ago.”
“Oh . . .” Heat flooded her face, and Rob smiled wryly.
“I think he might be looking for you.”
Rachel nodded jerkily and walked out of the pub.
Outside it was still light, although the sun had sunk behind the rows of terraced cottages and so the street was cast in shadow, empty except for a couple of spotty teens loitering in front of the shuttered post office shop with their skateboards.
She looked up the street and saw the navy blue Lexus parked, incongruously, behind her beat-up hatchback.
And Andrew West standing in the middle of the sidewalk.
She walked towards him, slowly at first, her heart beating too hard for the occasion, her mind feeling as if it were filled with cotton wool even though she’d had only half a glass of wine.
Andrew saw her coming and offered a wonderfully lopsided, uncertain smile. “I thought I’d just stop by . . .” he began, trailing off as Rachel kept walking towards him and then in to him, wrapping her arms around his middle as she pressed her face against the starched cotton of his shirt.
Andrew’s arms closed around her instinctively, but his body was tense. Rachel could feel his heart beating underneath her cheek.
“Rachel . . . is everything okay?”
“Yes. I just needed a hug.”
“You needed a hug?” His arms tightened around her. “Things must really be bad.”
“No worse than usual,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.
“I can certainly oblige you,” Andrew murmured, and he fit her body more closely to his, so for a few seconds she felt as if she could relax, as if she could let herself not be in charge.
Then, eventually, he loosened his embrace and pulled back from her. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” She pushed a few strands of hair away from her face, the embarrassment of having thrown herself at him, even if only for a hug, starting to scorch her.
No wonder Andrew had seemed so surprised.
He’d been expecting a snappy comeback and instead she’d nestled against his chest. “Sorry,” she muttered as she moved past him.
“Hey.” Andrew reached for her arm and pulled her towards him. “Wait a minute. Don’t think I don’t appreciate a hug. I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“Obviously.” She felt as if she’d jump-started their relationship, and not in a good way. “Look, I’m tired and I should probably go home. Long day tomorrow . . .”
“Rachel, it’s eight thirty. How about a drink?”
“I just left the pub.”
“We’ll go to Raymond’s, then.”
“I thought you said it was overrated.”
“Did I?” He smiled ruefully. “You must have thought me a complete snob.”
“I did, actually. And a pompous ass.”
“Dare I hope that your opinion has changed?”
“A little. Maybe.” She smiled, exhaustion and hope crashing around inside her so she didn’t know what she felt. “All right. One drink. But then I should get back to Meghan.”
“What’s up with Meghan?” Andrew asked as they fell in step together and started walking down the high street towards the old train station.
As they emerged from between the terraced houses on either side of the street, the sky opened up and they paused for a moment to watch the sun sinking towards the sea, the puddles in the sheep pastures glinting under the golden light.
A brisk wind was coming off the water, and Rachel shivered slightly before walking on.
“I don’t know what’s going on with Meghan,” she said. “But she’s not herself. Snappier and stressed and she’s lost weight. And there’s a man involved somehow.”
Andrew held the door open for her, and as she walked into Raymond’s, the quiet elegance of the place soothed her frayed nerves. “This is nice. I’ve never been here before.”
Andrew ordered their drinks while Rachel sat on the deep, squashy sofa in front of the fireplace and leaned her head back against the velvet cushions. She felt as if she could fall asleep. When he returned a few minutes later with their glasses of wine, her eyes were closed.
“Is this going to put you over the edge?” he asked as he handed her a glass of wine.
Rachel opened her eyes and took it with a murmured thanks. “Maybe. You might have to carry me home.”
“I wouldn’t mind.” His gaze held hers for one tingling moment before Rachel looked away.
She wanted so much to lean on Andrew, to have someone to share the burden of care that had been placed squarely on her shoulders, but she was afraid to ask.
Afraid to trust, because she’d seen what had happened before when she’d relied on her father to pick up the slack. He’d scarpered. He’d broken her heart.
“So. Tomorrow,” Andrew said. “What time are you meant to pick up your mum?”
“In the morning.” Rachel’s stomach churned at the thought.
“We have a home nurse coming for the first time tomorrow afternoon. But I honestly don’t know how we’re going to cope, Andrew.
When I’ve visited my mum in hospital she’s barely been able to move or speak.
And she can’t . . .” She swallowed hard, a blush rising to face.
“Control herself. If you know what I mean. So that will be two people in the house in nappies.”
“You can’t do it all yourself, Rachel.”
“But I think I might have to.” She could feel a lump forming in her throat, and she took a sip of wine, hoping to dissolve it. It only got bigger. “There’s no one else. Lily needs to study, and Meghan is barely holding it together.”
“What about me? What about Claire?”
She looked at him in surprise, discomfited by the question. “Last time I checked you live in Macclesfield and Claire . . .”
“And Claire?”
“Claire works at the post office shop.”
“Only four days a week.”
Rachel took a sip of wine, her mind spinning. “She hasn’t offered.”
“I think she’d like to help.” Andrew paused. “And I think it would be good for her.”
“So this is for Claire’s benefit?” Rachel asked, her voice sharper than she meant it to be.
Andrew regarded her evenly. “Why can’t it be a win-win situation?”
“I don’t know.” The thought of asking for Claire’s help, depending on her, made Rachel feel uncomfortable.
Exposed. Claire had dropped her once. She didn’t feel like being dropped again, especially at a time when she could so easily start to rely on her.
On anyone who was willing to step up. “How could she help, anyway?”
“She could check in on your mother—”
“She has no training for that sort of thing.”
“Do you?”
“Ten years of it,” Rachel retorted, although that wasn’t quite true. Since their dad had left, Meghan had taken care of their mother the most. Rachel had worked.
“Or she could take some of your cleaning jobs while you helped out with your mother—”
“I couldn’t afford to pay her.”
“This isn’t about money.”
“Charity, then?”
Andrew sighed. “Why are you getting so prickly?”
“Because this is hard on me.” Rachel could feel tears starting in her eyes, and she put her wineglass down with a thunk, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes even though the gesture was more revealing than she liked.
“This is bloody, bloody hard, Andrew. A week ago you were telling me I had choices. I should go back to university. And I even looked at some courses online, but how I can manage it or anything else now? I can’t depend on you or Claire or anyone for very long.
You’ll get another job in some exotic country and Claire will figure out what she wants to do.
She isn’t going to stay stacking shelves for the rest of her life. ”
“Maybe not, but we’re here now—”
“And I don’t want to start counting on you only to have you walk away when it suits. Trust me, I’ve been there before.”
Andrew’s face was pale, his eyes dark. “I’m not your father, Rachel.”
“I don’t know what you are,” Rachel snapped. “What’s really going on here?” She gestured to the space between them. “Why are you getting so involved in my life? My family’s life?”
Andrew was silent for a moment, his gaze steady on her. “Because I care about you,” he finally said.
Rachel’s breath came out in a rush. “I’m not even sure what that means, considering how far apart our lives are.”
“Can’t we just take it one day at a time, one step at a time? I’m in Macclesfield for another couple of months. I can come up here on the weekends. And you could come visit me—”
“How? Leaving home for one day was hard enough.” She shook her head, everything in her weighted down, heavy. “I appreciate all your offers of help, Andrew, I really do. I know you’re sincere. But I can’t start depending on someone only to have it all blow up in my face.”
“Maybe it wouldn’t.”
But that required a level of trust she simply didn’t have. She shook her head again and reached for her bag. “I should go.”
“Let me walk you home.”
“There’s no need.”
“My car is back there, anyway.” He put his unfinished glass of wine next to hers and helped her on with her coat, a gesture that made Rachel feel worse. They walked in silence out of the restaurant and headed back up the street.
The pub quiz was over and people were spilling out into the street, laughing and joking good-naturedly. Rachel slowed her step, reluctant to be caught up in the moment.
She saw Claire and Dan walking Eleanor Carwell back to her house, and Lily heading up to hers. Juliet and Peter were holding hands as they walked down to Tarn House. Everyone looked happy.
“Let me come with you to the hospital tomorrow at least,” Andrew said. “That’s why I came home, after all.”
“Home? Is this really home for you?” Andrew didn’t answer, and she sighed. “Okay. Fine.” Then, because she knew she sounded ungracious, she added, “Thanks.”
They’d reached the house the same time as Lily, and the smile slipped off her face as she looked at them.
“Is everything okay?”
“Fine,” Rachel said. “But as it’s only nine o’clock, you can get another hour in of revision.”
Lily nodded glumly, and Andrew reached for his keys. “What time should I be here?” he asked.
“Eight would work,” Rachel said, and turned towards the house without saying goodbye.