The Guilt Trip(31)
Rachel looks around the expectant faces, all of them no doubt wanting her to have a drink for different reasons. An inebriated version of herself means Paige will have a dancing partner, Jack will have a willing participant in whatever roleplay he wants to engage in later, while Will and Ali will be happy under the misapprehension that she is having a better time if she’s drunk. She briefly wonders why any of them bother with her at all if she’s that dull when she’s sober. Or is it that they’re the boring ones and see her as good entertainment value when she’s had a drink? It’s only Noah, she notices, who turns to look at her with no selfish intentions at all. He smiles with kind eyes, asking nothing of her and expecting even less.
The bubbles go up her nose as she shows willing, but as the warm fizziness trails down her throat she’s reminded that she’s doing this for everyone but herself.
“Woo-hoo!” shrieks Ali, taking the bottle back as Rachel coughs and splutters. “That’s my girl. Oh, Jack, I saw this in town earlier and thought of you.” Ali rummages around in her clutch bag.
She produces a three-inch wooden figurine and hands it to Jack, who takes it before examining it.
“What is it?” says Paige, leaning in to take a closer look.
Jack turns it over in his hands before shrugging his shoulders.
“It’s the Rooster of Barcelos,” says Ali. “Haven’t you seen him? He’s the Portuguese national symbol; he’s everywhere—you can’t miss him.”
“What did you buy him that for?” asks a bemused Will.
“Just as a little souvenir of the wedding and to thank him for being our best man,” says Ali, with a smile on her face.
“I think you’ll find he would have preferred an IWC watch as a Portuguese memento,” says Will, laughing.
Ali slaps him playfully. “This is slightly more meaningful.” She tuts. “It’s a symbol from medieval times.”
“What does it represent?” asks Rachel, because nobody else does.
“It’s a fascinating story,” says Ali. “When a landowner’s silver was found to be missing, the authorities arrested and charged a Spanish pilgrim who happened to be passing through the town of Barcelos. He protested his innocence, but with no other suspects, he was sentenced to be hanged.”
Rachel rubs at her head, unable to see the relevance of the preening bird Jack’s holding in his hand.
“But, just before his death,” Ali goes on, “he went to see the judge one last time to plead his innocence. He pointed to the roasted rooster on the dinner table in front of him and said it would come back to life to sing his innocence. The judge banished him to the gallows, but, just as the noose was being put around his neck, the rooster sprang to life.”
“Did it save the pilgrim?” asks Rachel.
“Yes, he was set free,” says Ali. “So, the moral of the story is that if you’ve done nothing wrong, you have nothing to fear.”
Rachel looks at Jack, who smiles tightly before putting the figure, which she can now see has red love hearts painted all over its plumage, into his inside pocket.
“We’re here!” exclaims Ali, a few minutes later, jumping up and down in her seat excitedly, the low cut of her dress edging dangerously close to revealing a nipple.
“What the hell was that all about?” asks Paige as they clamber out of the minibus.
“It’s just a rooster,” says Rachel wearily, not wanting to hear any more of Paige’s theories, especially where Jack is concerned. “There’s no hidden meaning.”
Paige snorts derisorily. “It’s a cock,” she says. “There’s all kinds of hidden meanings.”
9
It’s funny how just a couple of nights ago, the only thing Rachel had to worry about was how they were going to be spending their weekend. To the point that even when a text had popped up on Jack’s phone, she’d thought little of it, preferring instead to fixate on whether she was going to be subjected to a rowdy nightclub to celebrate Will and Ali’s nuptials or not. But now, all sorts of incidents are flashing up in her brain as she remembers them, suddenly conscious of what they might mean.
“Who’s that?” she’d asked, when “Can’t wait to see you” had flashed up on the screen from where it lay upturned on the vanity unit as she and Jack brushed their teeth the night before they left.
“Er, Will,” he said, picking it up and taking it into the bedroom with his toothbrush still in his mouth.
“Why doesn’t it say Will, then?” she’d asked, not because she was suspicious, but because she’d thought there might be something wrong with Jack’s phone.
“He’s got a new number,” Jack had said from the other room. “And I haven’t got round to saving it under his name yet.”
“So, what do you think the venue will be like?” she’d asked, thinking nothing more of it. “I’m hopeful that he’ll want to get married somewhere your parents will be proud of.”
“Do you honestly think Will’s had a say in it?” Jack had asked incredulously.
“Well, I’m banking on his good taste prevailing,” she’d replied, in between spitting out toothpaste.
Jack had laughed. “Well, I’m afraid you’re going to be bitterly disappointed, because if you think he’s had any control over what’s happening, dare I say, you’re being a little naive.”