Home > Books > Again, Rachel(122)

Again, Rachel(122)

Author:Marian Keyes

‘Tin Star is shit.’ An older woman called Loretta had taken my arm and steered me away from Mr Netflix. ‘Don’t waste your time. Go out into nature today. Spend time with your feelings. Talk to your baby. And don’t stick yokes in your ears and distract yourself.’

‘Okay.’ Maybe I would.

In the car, I texted Quin: Couldn’t sleep. Head a bit melted. Going for a walk on the beach like a woman from a Hallmark movie. See you later xxxx I pressed send and my very next thought was, I want to talk to Luke.

Shite.

Today Rachel envied Yesterday Rachel, so certain that she didn’t need to see Luke again. The thing was, of course, that the only other person in the world who’d loved Yara was Luke.

My phone was still in my hand. I looked at it. Kept looking. Was I really doing this? Calling him?

He had apologized. My anger and hurt weren’t entirely gone but I could get past it. Right now I felt I needed him – and I was curious to see if he’d make himself available.

‘Hey.’ He answered immediately, sounding as if he’d been waiting to hear from me.

‘Ah … hey. Listen … sorry about this, but are you okay today? I dreamt about her last night, like a lot, and –’

‘So did I.’ He sounded relieved. ‘It was yesterday? Seeing her photo? Talking about her?’

I was afraid I might cry again. ‘It’s stirred up a lot of memories.’

‘Yep.’ After a moment of silence, he asked, ‘How often do you think about her?’

‘Every single day. I talk to her, in my head.’

‘About what?’

‘Everything. Anything. And she talks back. We have conversations. She wants the best for me, but she’s also fun.’

He seemed interested. ‘It’s not like that for me. But she’s nearly always my first thought when I wake up. On the days she isn’t, I’m kinda relieved because maybe it means I’m getting better, then I feel guilty. I don’t want her to think I’d forget her.’

‘She knows you’d never do that.’ My voice was fierce. ‘Does Kallie know about her?’

‘Of course. But I don’t talk about it.’

‘To anyone?’

‘Nobody else went through it.’

‘I did.’

‘Yeah, but you and me …’

I let the silence last.

‘Should we –’ he asked. ‘Would you like to get coffee? Today. Like, now.’

‘I was going to go for a walk. To the beach. The sound of the waves, it calms me.’

‘Can I come?’

YesNoMaybeFuuuuuuuuck.

‘Okay.’

Even though the morning was dry and striving for sunny, Pebble Beach was deserted. Luke was already there, lounging on a low wall, his hands in his pockets, the salty breeze whipping his hair.

His face was raised to the try-hard sun but at the sound of my car, he looked for me. From a long way away, his eyes met mine. The impact felt physical.

By the time I’d parked, he’d walked over. I opened the car door into a rough breeze. Overhead, seabirds circled, their cries harsh.

‘Hi.’ Luke hadn’t shaved. Dark bristles shaded his jaw and shaped his mouth. Up close, in the glassy light, occasional strands of silver flashed in his hair. They were new. At least, new to me.

Out of nowhere, the ground felt unsteady. This was a mistake. Too soon.

‘What?’ He’d noticed something was off. ‘You’ve changed your mind?’

‘No, I …’

His eyes scoured my face.

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘Forgot how weird this all is. I think I got over-confident.’

‘Over-confident?’ I couldn’t read his tone. ‘O-kay.’ Clenching his jaw, he stared towards the water. Then, ‘So? We staying or going?’

‘Might as well stay. You’ve driven all this distance.’ All seven kilometres.

‘Sarcasm?’

Sudden fury surged in me. ‘Yeah.’

He slanted me a glance; he seemed unimpressed.

I began walking along the blue-grey shingle, my boots on the stones sounding like coins rattling in a jar. Luke followed, then caught up.

‘Thanks for calling me today,’ he said.

‘… Um, sure. It made sense – you’re the only other person on earth who knows how I feel. No one can help us the way we could help each other.’ Then I wanted to add, And, finally, you’re talking to me. But with incredible restraint I contented myself with, ‘We never got the chance to do it before.’