Chapter 35 #2
Cam’s hand brushed over Rae’s shoulder lightly, which Rae knew in Cam language was a tender show of care. ‘Probably because he knew you wouldn’t ask for help yourself, you big tube.’
Maybe. She hadn’t believed she deserved help when she’d gone against Dad’s plans to make this happen, and she was so used to doing everything alone that it hadn’t occurred to her people might want to help.
Struan knew what she needed, even when she didn’t.
‘This way, you can still make time to visit your dad every day,’ said Martha.
‘Did you know Struan planned this?’ Rae couldn’t help but ask.
She shook her head, pursing her lips. ‘He surprised us all.’
‘That’s a bloke who really cares, if you ask me,’ Warren added. ‘Eiley would call it his big grand gesture.’ Cam elbowed him in his stomach, and he hunched over with an Ooft. ‘What?’
‘We’re not supposed to be acknowledging his big mushy feelings for her.’
‘Why?’
She cast a wary glance Martha’s way, cringing at the stoniness she received in return. ‘His sister is standing right there.’
Rae pinched the bridge of her nose as Warren asked, ‘So?’
‘Did you not receive the mandatory lecture on forbidden love from Eiley?’
‘Oh my God,’ Rae muttered. ‘Please, enough. Struan is a good friend, and I’m really grateful you’re all here, but I can’t do…’ – she waved her hand – ‘this at the moment.’
‘We were just heading off, anyway. I would say see you tomorrow, but I can’t do manual labour two days in a row. I’ll send Eiley instead.’ With a sympathetic smile, Cam led Warren to one of the many cars parked outside the farm shop.
Rae gulped down a deep breath, unable to meet Martha’s eye as she walked towards the house.
On the porch, Gran was doling out instructions to the volunteers via a megaphone, her voice piercing Rae’s already sensitive skull.
She needed a shower and a true crime documentary binge, otherwise, there was no way she’d make it through the week.
Inside, Vik worked at the kitchen table, laptop open in front of her. Martha flicked on the kettle. ‘I ordered some pizza from Pam’s. I didn’t think you’d be up for cooking tonight.’
She supposed that meant she couldn’t disappear just yet. She collapsed onto the seat beside Vik, distracting herself by fussing over the dogs at her feet. Milly climbed into her lap, giving her a wet kiss on the cheek.
‘I’m knackered.’ She eyed Martha warily. ‘Things didn’t seem too awkward with Cam.’
Martha shrugged. ‘We’ve both moved on, now. We can be civil.’
‘Thank God,’ Vik mumbled under her breath, fingers clicking away on her keyboard.
Rae snorted, burying her face into Milly’s patchy brown fur.
The dog still smelled like Dad’s cologne from their final cuddles this morning, and it provided her with much-needed comfort, but also another wave of emotion.
She was overwhelmed and hadn’t had time to process anything that had happened today.
Maybe it was time to lock herself in the laundry cupboard for a while.
‘Do you mind if I go for a shower before we eat?’ Rae asked.
She was already standing, feeling too brittle to linger. With Martha’s gaze stamped on her back, she trudged up the stairs, slipping straight into the cupboard’s cottony darkness. She tried to control her breathing, in for four seconds, out for eight. In, out, in, out.
You’re okay. Dad’s okay. Things with Struan will settle, and Martha will forgive you, and—
‘Is there room for two?’ a voice asked outside the door.
Martha.
Rae’s head dropped into her knees. She hated herself for the dread that crept upon her whenever Martha was near. She’d done the one thing she’d been afraid of, let her feelings for Struan drive a wedge between them, and now it was stifling just to be in the same room as her best friend.
But she couldn’t say so without making that wedge bigger, so she forced out a ‘Yes’ instead.
The door clicked open, light pouring into the cupboard before it was pushed out again. Martha adjusted a rack of towels to sit opposite Rae, their legs cramming together.
‘I knew all this would overwhelm you. Struan never thinks,’ she said.
Rae tamped down a protest. Coming home to find people who cared about the farm, about her, was the one good thing that had made the worry of today bearable, but Martha needed a reason to convince herself that Struan had done wrong.
In the silence, Martha shifted impatiently, jabbing her toe into Rae’s hip. ‘We can talk about it.’
‘I don’t think I want to,’ Rae admitted. ‘I just needed quiet.’
‘I can do quiet.’ It wasn’t true. Martha liked to fix things, a lot like her brother, only usually with words rather than actions. She intellectualised everything, made everything into a debate that needed a hypothesis and empirical evidence and a practical assessment like the scientist she was.
Rae could do without that. She could rationalise with her brain all she liked, tell herself that this was just a stressful day, that it would all turn out okay in the end, but it wouldn’t alleviate the heaviness in her chest. She’d spent a lifetime trying to stave off that anxiety.
For once, she needed to find a way to exist with it.
In this very cupboard, she’d learned that it would drown her if she didn’t let it in.
Martha began drumming her fingers against the wooden floorboards not five seconds later. ‘Your dad’s going to be fine. He’s in the best place possible.’
‘I know.’
‘The fair will turn out great. Every customer we had in the farm shop today was talking about it. They’re so excited.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Oh, and you almost sold out of the strawberry and chilli jam!’
‘Okay. I’ll make more tomorrow.’
Martha popped her lips listlessly. ‘How long is this going to go on for, Rae?’
‘What?’
‘The thing with my brother. How long are you going to make me feel bad for it?’
Rae frowned. ‘I’m not. I’m trying not to talk about him at all.’
‘Exactly, which makes it weird. It’s like a Struan version of the silent treatment. The Struan treatment.’
What could she say? That talking about him opened up a vacuum inside her? That today, she’d had the hardest call of her life and almost broke down in the middle of a hospital corridor? She was trying to do everything she could to fix things with Martha, but nothing ever felt like enough.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. It felt like it was all she ever said now. ‘I’m trying, okay? I really am.’
‘Rae.’ Her name shattered on Martha’s tongue, and she leaned forward to wipe away Rae’s tears. ‘Don’t get upset.’
‘Could you please just give me a minute alone?’
Martha nodded hesitantly, shuffling out of the cupboard. She gave Rae one final, solemn look before closing the door on her.
Only in the heavy darkness did Rae realise that she didn’t want to be alone at all – but the only person who could comfort her was all the way in Glasgow, and he’d never be hers again.