Rachel turns to face her as the men busy themselves with the very serious business of selecting the right tomatoes.
“Noah and I have only ever been friends,” she says.
“Yes, I know that now, silly,” says Paige, bumping Rachel with her shoulder to lighten the mood. “But, back then, you can’t blame me for thinking something more had gone on. You were like two peas in a pod, finishing each other’s sentences and sharing the same interests. It was pretty intimidating to come into as an outsider.”
“But I told you from the beginning that we were like brother and sister,” says Noah, his eyes focused on tying the bag of tomatoes.
“Yes, but even still, you were a man and a woman who were so closely in tune with each other that it was impossible—at least in my mind—that something more wasn’t going on—or hadn’t in the past. It just goes against nature that two people of the opposite sex can be that close without ever taking it one step further.”
Rachel forces a smile, but try as she might, she can’t stop the memory of Noah’s face coming toward her; his lips parting hers as they kiss. She can feel his touch setting her skin ablaze as his fingers trail lightly down her spine.
“Rachel?” says Paige, calling her back.
“Sorry,” says Rachel, shaking herself down.
“You looked miles away,” says Paige, laughing. “I was just asking if we should get some avocados?”
She can feel Noah’s eyes burning into her, but she refuses to look at him for fear that it will give something away.
“Erm, yes…” she says, when she eventually manages to shrug off the uncomfortable sensation that her best friend’s husband is able to evoke in her.
Paige laughs to herself as she feels the firmness of an avocado. “I remember thinking I had to pass the Rachel test.”
“Which was?” asks Rachel, unable to believe that, after all these years, they’re having this conversation in a supermarket.
“To make sure you liked me even more than Noah did,” says Paige.
Rachel smiles, but she’s not sure how successful that test was, given that on meeting, the first thing she’d said to Noah when Paige went to the bathroom was “She looks like she’s got a broom stuck up her arse.”
“Now, now,” Noah had said, half-smiling. “I’ve always been nice to Jack, so I expect you to show the same courtesy to her.”
“Do you really think it’s serious, then?” Rachel had asked.
“Well, I wouldn’t have asked you here if I didn’t,” he’d said.
It wasn’t as if she’d been invited to join them, exactly. It had been made to look like Rachel had just happened to be in the same place they were, so she could check Paige out.
“So, why did you ask me if you don’t want my honest opinion?”
“I do want your opinion—it matters to me what you think—but don’t be mean just for the sake of it.” He’d looked at her like a stern schoolteacher.
“I don’t want her to change anything between us,” she’d said sulkily.
“Don’t you think you having a baby, and getting married, has done that already?”
“I can already tell that she doesn’t like me. What have you told her?”
Noah had shifted his stance at the bar.
“Have you told her the truth?” she pressed.
“Have you told Jack the truth?” he snapped back.
“Christ, the bathroom’s a long way away,” said Paige, bursting the invisible balloon that Noah and Rachel had momentarily put themselves in.
“Well, it’s been lovely to meet you,” Rachel had said, suddenly feeling the need to get out of there. “But I really need to get home to my baby.”
“Oh, you have a child?” Paige asked.
Rachel could literally see the relief in her eyes. As if being a mother meant that she wasn’t a threat to her and Noah’s burgeoning relationship.
“Yes,” said Rachel, acknowledging that she was probably right. Having a child had changed everything, and she’d never do anything to jeopardize Josh’s welfare or well-being. She’d learned the hard way how it felt to be the product of a broken marriage and she would never allow him to feel that despair, that guilt, that maybe he’d done something to make his mummy and daddy stop loving each other. That weight of responsibility sat like a lump in her throat.
“He’s ten months old,” she’d managed.
“Ah, sweet,” Paige had said, leaning into Noah protectively.