The Guilt Trip(35)

“Of course you could,” encourages John.

“She has meetings with David Friedman,” Kimberley exclaims. “I could never do that.”

“Well, I know she works for his company,” butts in Rachel, keen for Kimberley not to get too carried away putting Ali on a pedestal she doesn’t belong on. “But I’m not sure she has any close contact with him.”

“They’re like that,” says Kimberley, crossing her fingers. “He was supposed to be here, but something came up at the last minute.”

Rachel doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “She said David Friedman was going to come to her wedding?”

“Yes,” says Kimberley proudly, without a hint of skepticism.

“Uh-oh, talk of the devil,” says John. “Here comes trouble.”

“Oi you,” says Ali, leaning in to give him a hug. She’s lost enough inhibitions not to worry about holding onto the top of her dress anymore, but Rachel still has a few left and finds herself constantly wanting to reach out to protect her modesty.

“I’m sorry I’ve not had a chance to talk to you properly yet,” says Ali, as she kisses Kimberley. “How are you?”

“Good,” says Kimberley, smiling. “This is wonderful. You look so happy.”

“I am,” says Ali. “I can’t wait until tomorrow when we’ll finally be husband and wife.”

“It’s so exciting that you’re about to embark on this new chapter.”

“I know,” says Ali, with a smug expression. “I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

“You deserve it,” says Kimberley, putting her hand on top of Ali’s. “After everything you’ve been through.”

Rachel waits, ears pricked up, hoping for someone to elaborate. It might help explain why Ali’s like she is.

“It’s been a long time coming,” says Ali, sighing. “But it finally feels as if my life is back on track.”

Kimberley nods. “It’s all about looking forward now,” she says. “The future’s exciting. A new husband and, God willing, children.”

“Kim,” starts John, as if warning her not to pry.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” says Ali, smiling. “I’m not quite ready for kids just yet.”

“Wait, what?” The words are out of Rachel’s mouth before she can stop them.

Ali stares at Rachel with wide eyes and surreptitiously shakes her head. “We’ve got plenty of time,” she says. “There’s no rush.”

Rachel glares back, knowing that wasn’t the plan—at least it wasn’t last night, when Ali had professed to wanting children with Will immediately.

Rachel wonders if Ali hasn’t got a bigger problem than what they’re all making allowances for. Perhaps her tendency to over-exaggerate and need to be at the center of every story is just the tip of a far deeper psychological issue. This isn’t the first time Rachel has suspected her of lying, though it’s the first time she’s caught her red-handed, blatantly changing her tune, depending on who she’s talking to. Though she’s spoken with such conviction both times, that Rachel can’t tell which is the lie and which is the truth.

“If you’ll just excuse me,” says Rachel, unable to listen to whichever version this is for any longer. She gets up, not knowing where she’s going to head, but then she sees Jack leaning in to Noah at the bar, jabbing a finger into his chest. Her heart quickens at the same rate as her feet.

“Is everything okay?” she asks falteringly as she reaches them.

Now she’s closer, she can see Jack’s features, twisted with anger.

“What’s going on?” she asks, as the tension in Jack’s shoulders dissipates and he takes a step back. But he doesn’t take his eyes off Noah.

“You’d better watch yourself,” says Jack, straightening his shirt, as if he’s been in a fight.

Noah laughs and Rachel wishes he hadn’t. She almost looks out of one eye, expecting Jack to be launching himself at him.

“I’m warning you,” hisses Jack.

“Jack!” says Rachel, knowing she’s got her work cut out. He’s far too drunk and far too angry. “Jack, why don’t you go and talk to Paige?”

He looks around unsteadily.

“She’s over there,” says Rachel, as if she’s cajoling one child to go and play with another.

He lurches off and Rachel lets out the breath she was holding in.

“What the hell was that about?” she says, turning to Noah.

He shakes his head. “Your husband can be such a prize tosser when he wants to be.”

“Is this over what happened earlier?” she asks, not knowing which event she’s referring to. Selfishly, she hopes it’s the one in the sea rather than the conversation he’d probably overheard her and Jack having in their bedroom.

“He’s still maintaining that he told me not to go toward the waves.”

“O-kay,” says Rachel carefully, not wanting to stoke this unpredictable situation any further.

“And I know I’ve had a bump to the head, but I clearly heard him telling me to follow him.”

“But it must have been incredibly noisy out there,” says Rachel, trying to stay on neutral ground.