Again, Rachel, page 43
I nodded.
‘She told me to keep an open mind!’ Adam hissed. ‘I only did it because she wanted to.’
‘But she felt sidelined.’
‘How am I meant to know the rules? Nobody explained. All I knew was she said if I didn’t enjoy myself, she’d laugh at me. So I did what I was told, I did enjoy myself and now she’s furious. Jesus, he’s taking the coat off.’
Luke was shrugging his jacket back from his shoulders, revealing dark jeans and a black, fitted shirt.
‘Very … lithe, isn’t he?’ Adam asked. ‘Is that the word I mean?’
I didn’t know but my heart hurt with how much I wanted him.
‘Like, you’d swear he’d practised that jacket thing. I hear he goes horse-riding these days.’ Bitterly he said, ‘Figures. I’ll be honest, Rachel, I wasn’t happy you broke up, that would be going too far, he was nice – well, before he wasn’t – but I was never comfortable with him. I don’t get his look and we’ve nothing in common. Quin is much more my type.’ He glanced around. ‘Where is he?’
‘Not coming.’
His glance flicked to Luke and back to me, then he exclaimed, ‘You’re fucking joking.’ He looked horribly concerned. ‘Because of him?’ He nodded across at Luke.
‘No. Well …’
‘I can’t,’ Adam managed. ‘I really can’t.’ He’d spotted a roving waitress with a tray of champagne and dived at her. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered, gratefully accepting a glass. ‘You’re very kind.’
‘What’s up with him?’ Helen had appeared in a tight little black dress.
Flanking Helen was her Best Friend, Bella Devlin.
‘Bella,’ I said. ‘How lovely to … You look …’ I couldn’t find an adequately effusive word for her fair, pale-skinned perfection. ‘Beautiful.’
To be accurate, Bella looked as though the air she breathed was the purest oxygen, that she only drank water from melted glaciers and that her every thought was good and loving.
‘Rachel.’ Bella took my hands between hers – her social skills were impeccable. ‘You’re breathtaking.’
‘You’re more. You’re breathtaking to the moon and back.’ Sooner rather than later, I usually let myself down around her. ‘Tell me about your dress.’ Because there was always a story. Bella Devlin would never say, ‘This fucking thing? Karen Millen! Two years ago. There was a tear in the hem so I got twenty euro off.’
‘It was my mum’s wedding dress,’ Bella said.
But of course it was – the dress was red and, apart from a mandarin collar, super-plain.
‘Dior,’ Bella Devlin said. ‘Crêpe de Chine. Vintage.’
‘Vintage vintage,’ Helen clarified. ‘It was vintage when Vonnie got married. So now it’s vintage squared.’
Another tray of champagne flutes appeared and Adam, who’d devoted himself to swigging down the glass he already had, once again made a lunge.
‘Have you anything non-alcoholic?’ I asked the server. ‘Tap water is fine.’
‘And for me,’ Bella said. (She didn’t drink, even though her parents said she could.)
‘It’s not fine for me,’ Helen said. ‘Water, please, but the fanciest you have.’
‘I’m grand with champagne.’ Artie, in jeans and a shirt that could definitely have done with an iron, had joined our cluster.
‘Good of you to dress up, bro,’ Adam said to Artie.
With a quiet smile, Artie said, ‘Always.’
Very cool, Artie was. Impossible to rattle.
‘So three waters?’ the server said.
‘Er, before you go.’ Anxiously, Adam lunged at her tray. ‘I’ll take a second glass for my … because I drink quickly. Anna! Hey! And Angelo! Hello!’
Poor Adam was almost as uncomfortable around Angelo as he was with Luke.
Into my ear, Anna said, ‘One of us should go over and talk to Luke. This can’t be easy for him. When I say “one of us”, I mean you, Rachel.’
It was actually a relief to get an order to approach him. It didn’t make me as tragic as if I’d decided off my own bat. Not that he’d know the difference. ‘Okay. Going.’
Nervously, I infiltrated the circle of aunties, stood next to Luke and said, ‘Hey.’
He jumped and turned around. ‘Hey!’ His face shifted from serious to an unexpectedly sweet smile. After a speedy scan of my dress, he said, ‘You look gorgeous.’
‘No need to sound so surprised.’ Quickly, I added, ‘I’m joking.’
‘Where’s Quin?’
‘Not here.’
‘Is he … okay?’
‘I … Just … I don’t really know …’
He didn’t speak, just stared, appearing troubled.
A shift in energy pulled my attention away – Kate and Devin! Kate in the midnight-blue dress, the boned bodice figure-hugging and narrow, the skirt a tulle explosion, Devin in an eighties-style suit in the same colour. They’d come as a matching set and they were dazzling.
As they moved through the room, people were doing second takes, wondering why this duo was so captivating. Oh, I see, they’re young and in love. Well, isn’t this a beautiful thing to witness.
Luke frowned. ‘Is that … one of your dresses?’ He looked upset. ‘I remember when you used to –’
‘No, don’t, please,’ I said. ‘Let’s not be sad. Just for tonight?’
‘I don’t know if I can.’ Then, ‘Okay, I’ll give it a try – Angelo! My man!’
‘Heeeeey!’ With man-hugs and backslaps, Angelo annexed Luke. Back in the day, they had been matey.
‘And Anna!’ Luke took Anna’s knuckles and kissed them, then they hugged each other. Of all of my sisters, Anna was closest to Luke, probably because they’d both lived in New York. Oh, and here came Claire, looking for her piece of the Costello action.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed – Mum was five minutes out! Claire, Anna and Helen had got the same text and nervous energy infused us all.
‘Positions, please,’ Claire called, sweeping through the room and herding aunties into graduated ranks. ‘Taller ones at the back! Phyllis, Imelda!’ She snapped her fingers. ‘That means you.’
‘Uncles-by-marriage – Donagh, Dónall, Deaglán, Diarmuid and Daithí – kneel in the front row. Molly, Luka, help them kneel!’
As Molly and Luka desperately tried to cajole octogenarian men riddled with arthritis into a kneeling position, Francesca called, her voice laced with panic, ‘Time’s running out! Just kick the sticks from under them.’
‘Remember.’ Helen patrolled the aunties as if she were a sergeant inspecting her raw recruits. ‘If any of you don’t shout “SURPRISE” loudly enough, none of you will get your New York goody bag, each with a retail value of over three hundred euro. We’re watching!’
Then, ‘Sssh. Sssh! She’s outside. She’s coming. She’s …. SURPRISE!!!!’
Balloons flew, whistles were blown and everyone really did yell loudly. Mum did an excellent job of looking shocked and delighted.
Afterwards she was asked, again and again, ‘Did you really not suspect anything?’
‘Not an iota!’
Gazing around the room, I searched for Margaret, who, despite the vital role she’d played in this drama, was getting no thanks. I found her standing with Garv. Tenderly, he touched her face while she smiled and fiddled with his tie – and, frankly, she looked incredible.
Her gleaming hair was tousled and cool – but, oh my God, her dress! The stone-coloured midi dress was deceptively plain. But from the supple sway of the skirt to how the scooped neckline revealed her collarbones, it was perfect.
‘Margaret.’ Maybe I shouldn’t have interrupted whatever intimacy was going on but feck it, she and Garv lived together, they could share moments whenever they liked. ‘You look beautiful.’
She swung herself and her amazing hair around to me. ‘But wait!’
‘Yes!’ Garv exclaimed. ‘You must see the best part!’
‘Look.’ She slid her hands along her hips. ‘It’s got … pockets!’ Her smile froze. ‘Oh. Hi, Luke!’
‘Sorry for cutting in …’ Respectfully he kissed Margaret’s cheek and shook Garv’s hand. ‘So good to see you both. Just wanted to congratulate Margaret for delivering your mum here. And on time too. Not everyone could have pulled that off.’
‘Oh, ah, you know …’ Margaret was all set to go full-on self-deprecation but Garv interrupted, ‘Nice one, Luke, she doesn’t get celebrated enough. To my wonderful wife!’ He held up his glass.
The other people at my table were Anna and Angelo, Kate and Devin, Auntie Dolores, the least worst of Mum’s five sisters, with her husband Daithí – and Luke.
I was seated between Angelo and Devin – and directly opposite Luke, who was between Kate and Anna.
With surprising efficiency, we got our starter – and it was borderline edible which is a lot more than you’d usually get on a night like this. But when the beef arrived, it was no real surprise that my vegetarian meal didn’t.
The waiter said he knew nothing about it but he’d enquire.
‘Seriously,’ Anna objected. ‘It’s not as if you’re asking for pixie dust!’
Not one other person at the table was a vegetarian. Oh, more flexitarians than you knew what to do with, everyone giving it, ‘I eat red meat twice a year, and then only if it’s grass-fed, organic and locally sourced.’
‘Start,’ I said as their dinners cooled before them. ‘Mine will be here soon.’
Daithí and Dolores were already horsing into theirs. Seeming uncertain, Devin and Angelo picked up their knives. ‘You sure?’
‘Absolutely.’
But Kate, Anna and Luke held off.
‘Please,’ I begged. ‘This is making me feel bad.’ Scanning the room, I thought I spotted our waiter down at the far end, dancing attendance on other people.
The whole business was curiously humiliating.
Luke was getting to his feet and throwing his napkin on the table. ‘Is that the guy?’ He indicated the man I’d been scoping.
‘I think so –’
‘Stay where you are.’
He wove his way through the tables and, watching the twist of his narrow waist, I felt almost sick with want. At the end of the room, he collared the waiter and engaged him in chat, pointing towards me. Next thing, both of them went to the swingy door that led into the kitchen – and disappeared.
I’d never see either of them again, I was convinced of it.
However, in an unexpectedly short time, they re-emerged, the waiter bearing a plate which, with some ceremony, he carried the length of the room and placed before me.
‘Thank you,’ I murmured, keeping my eyes low.
Luke’s kindness felt crushing. As if my lovesickness was so pitiable that hunting down my risotto was the charitable thing to do.
As soon as it was decent, I’d scarper, I decided. I’d go back to my house and lie low, waiting for everything to settle, my feelings to get back to normal, then I’d resume my life – which had been fine before all of this. Better than fine, actually. Lovely, it was lovely. Apart from the dearth of vintage Chanel handbags, I’d had no complaints.
In double-quick time the dinner plates were being whipped away and replaced with the gold-leaf dessert. Next thing Dad was up on a small stage, nervously holding a mic. He began thanking people, a phenomenal number of them, for making tonight possible. Then it was time for Mum’s speech, which had a lot in common with Father Ted’s lengthy, score-settling address when he won the Golden Cleric. And we were getting there. Soon everyone would be so drunk that I could slip away unnoticed.
I was surprised by a tap on my shoulder – Artie. Directly into my ear, he said, ‘Helen needs you. She’s in the ladies.’
Quickly I got up.
In the frilly powder room, Helen was alone, sitting on a pink velvet pouf. She looked tearful – and Helen never cried.
‘Rachel. I’m not pregnant.’
‘… Did you think you were?’
‘Yeah. My period is only a day late but, yeah, I did.’
‘… This is your first month of trying?’
‘I know. But I thought … I was hopeful. You can hug me if you want.’
Carefully, I wrapped my arms around her – and then she did cry.
‘Helen …’ I felt helpless. ‘I was the same. Every month I thought this was the one where it had actually worked. And in the end it did.’
From the way her body stiffened, it was clear she’d remembered what had followed.
‘That won’t happen to you,’ I said.
‘How do you know?’
‘I just do.’
But I didn’t. I couldn’t. And my worry was that if Helen didn’t get her desired outcome, it could kick-start another descent into the darkness.
‘You’ve got to remember,’ I said, ‘that trying to get pregnant when you’re not sixteen is a marathon, not a sprint.’
‘A marathon, not a sprint,’ she repeated. Then, with a scornful look, ‘I can’t believe you just said that.’
She was obviously fine again. ‘Come on, we’d better go back out there.’
I was hoping that Mum hadn’t noticed our absence. But up on the dais, with her elevated overview, of course she had. As I scurried back to my table, her laser eyes burned a hole in my back.
Luke mouthed at me, Everything okay?
Embarrassed by his pity, I gave an abrupt nod, then turned my head.
Behind Mum, an actual, real-life band was setting up on the small stage. When, finally, she surrendered her microphone, the band leader announced they were kicking things off with an old-timey waltz set – which generated a veritable trickle onto the floor. Mum was out there with Dad. Uncle Donagh, showcasing his new knees, had Auntie Phyllis in a hold. Imelda and Philomena were dancing with each other and they all looked joyous and jolly which, despite everything, made me smile.
… Except something was going on with Claire and Adam. I watched her yank him by the tie into a hungry clinch. In the parlance of our culchie cousins, she was ‘ateing the face off him’. Devouring him. From a distance it could have been mistaken for passion, but to me it was clear she was in a blind fury. If someone could die from being snogged, Adam would have been a goner.
I was about to get up and intervene when abruptly Claire desuckered her face from Adam’s, shoved him away and stalked off, only to fall into the hands of Anna and Angelo, who garlanded her with concern.
Meanwhile, at our table, Auntie Dolores was on her feet, trying to pull her husband out to dance. He batted her away. ‘Stop. No.’
‘Daithí, please dance with me.’
‘I don’t want to.’
Red with humiliation, she sat down and lunged for her glass. Next thing, Luke was out of his chair and extending his hand. ‘Come on, Dolores, why don’t you and me show them how it’s done?’
‘You mean …?’ Dolores’s face lit up. ‘Right, let’s go!’
As soon as Luke led her out into the middle of the dance floor, there were a few ribald whistles. Suddenly, a small knot of aunties, cursed with refusenik husbands, were alert and interested. When Dolores rotated to face them and Luke couldn’t see what she was at, she flapped her tongue towards her chin in a suggestive manner.
Mum had spotted them! Still waltzing with Dad, she covered a huge amount of ground at great speed and muscled in, fobbing Dolores off on Dad and sailing away with Luke.
‘I’m next,’ I heard Auntie Peggy say, smoothing down her dress and advancing with conviction.
Out of nowhere, several aunties and cousins – even those with dancing husbands – were forming an impromptu line. ‘Thirty seconds,’ a voice said. ‘Everyone gets thirty seconds!’ There seemed to be an accord and when the time was up, they ousted their predecessor, sliding into Luke’s arms, to take their place.
Auntie Dolores returned to our table, drained her glass in one grateful swig and looked around, desperately searching for a waitress.
I stood up. ‘I’ll get you a drink.’ Then I’d check on Claire and leave, I decided. Nothing was going to happen with Luke, I was delusional to have hoped that it might. ‘What would you like?’
‘Large brandy,’ she said. ‘A settler. Although I don’t know if I’ll ever be right again.’
Cutting across the dance floor, en route to the bar, Luke lunged into my path. ‘Two seconds, Imelda,’ he said, over his shoulder. Then to me, ‘When do I get to dance with you?’
Miserably, I flicked a glance at the impatient queue. ‘Ha!’ I forced a laugh. ‘They’d eat me alive.’
‘Rachel,’ he said, softly. ‘Dance with me.’
My mouth went dry.
He was suddenly extremely still, his dark eyes on mine. ‘That text the other day? It was for you. I lost my nerve.’
My lips formed a silent ‘Oh’.
‘The only woman I want to dance with,’ he said, ‘is you.’
For a long moment, I searched his face. He was so very serious about this.
‘Not here,’ I said, and surrendered him to Imelda.
Ten minutes later he cornered me.
I was back at the table, desperately trying to concentrate on a conversation with Angelo when Luke materialized on the chair beside mine. One second he wasn’t there, the next he was. When I saw him, I jumped.
Intent on me, he asked. ‘Where, then?’
‘Luke, I shouldn’t have said –’
‘Where?’
Silently, I shook my head.
He stared at me.
I took a ragged breath. ‘My house. Come home with me. Just for tonight.’
He nodded, his face giving nothing away. ‘Thank you.’
Drive safely, I reminded myself, again. Drive safely.
Out in the countryside the roads were narrow and dark. The headlight of Luke’s bike, directly behind my car, lit my way.
We were the only two vehicles on the road.
It felt like the only two vehicles in the world.
I thought about Quin, of course I did. He would be very hurt and we might not survive, but there was an inevitability to this. It wasn’t exactly about desire, at least not for me, it was about saying a final goodbye.
