The Guilt Trip(41)
Though, to look at Ali now, it’s as if nothing has changed. There are no knowing sideward glances or the judgmental raising of an eyebrow. There are no sly digs or inappropriate comments, which only serves to unsettle Rachel even more. She’d rather just know what Ali knows, and what she’s intending to do with the knowledge, than be blindsided when Jack no doubt confronts her.
If Ali’s going to tell him that there’s even a question mark hanging over Josh’s head, Rachel would rather have the excruciating conversation with Jack herself, as at least then she’d be able to say what needs to be said with some semblance of accuracy and truth. Though, the thought of telling the man who’d believed he was his son’s father for nineteen years, that he might not be, makes her break out into a cold sweat. How duped will he feel when he finds out that the newborn he’d cherished beyond anything else might be another man’s baby? How deceived will he feel when he knows that the four-year-old boy he’d taught to ride a bike without stabilizers should have been wobbling his way toward someone else? How will he feel to be told that those three nights he spent on a boys-only camping trip with Josh when he was ten might not have been the father–son bonding experience he’d thought it was?
Josh is Jack’s world and the thought of Ali having the power to turn it upside down makes Rachel’s insides feel like they’re being pulled out of her.
“Who wants what?” Ali asks, shrugging off Will’s jacket that he’d wrapped around her when she complained of being cold.
“I’ll go,” says Rachel.
“Great, I’ll have a white wine then, please,” says Ali.
“I’ll have a beer,” says Will, falling down into one of the deep sofas.
“Jack?” asks Rachel, conscious that they hadn’t spoken two words since leaving the restaurant. She catches Ali looking at him and has a momentary panic that she might already have divulged her biggest secret.
“I’ll have a beer as well,” he says sulkily, as he follows Noah up the stairs.
“Where are you going?” she asks, alarmed.
When he doesn’t answer, she can’t help but go up after him, as her brain fast-forwards to the pair of them having a punch-up on the landing and one or both of them coming crashing down onto the glass coffee table in the living room below.
She breathes out as Noah disappears into his room and Jack keeps walking toward theirs. She silently follows him in and closes the door behind her.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, as he disappears into the bathroom.
“Yes, why shouldn’t it be?”
“Just that you haven’t said two words to me all night.”
“I had a lot of people to talk to,” he says abruptly.
Rachel knows that and she wouldn’t normally be so needy, but on this occasion it would help to know that he’s not avoiding her.
“Is everything…?” she starts, before having second thoughts about opening up a can of worms she’d rather keep shut.
He comes out the bathroom, looking at her expectantly.
“Is everything … all right with you and Noah?” she says, wanting to cross her fingers and squeeze her eyes shut.
Her head is such a jumble that she can’t remember who knows what, who accused whom, whether she saw Jack and Noah arguing at the bar before Noah tried to kiss her or after, and whether Ali had really heard their conversation.…
She wishes she hadn’t drunk so much because she’s unable to time the events of the last few hours, or the order they happened in. That’s probably why she’s here now, looking for reassurance from Jack that all is well in his world.
“He’s an asshole,” says Jack, which, given the alternatives that Rachel had expected, could have been worse.
“He had an almighty scare today,” says Rachel. “We all did.”
Jack looks at her with raised eyebrows as if to say, “But you more than most, it seems.” But she refuses to pick up on his insinuation.
“He’s shocked. You’re shocked,” she says. “I’m sure everything will be fine tomorrow. You just need a good rest.”
“The last thing I need is rest,” says Jack, coming toward her, his face suddenly alight with mischief.
He bends to kiss her neck as his hands roughly pull up her skirt.
No part of her wants this right now, she’s just not in the right headspace, yet she can’t help but feel appeased that he does. It means that they’re okay; that he doesn’t know anything she doesn’t want him to know, and that even though Ali seems to be doing her best to turn his head, he still wants her.
“Jack,” she says, pulling away from him.
He grabs her behind, pressing himself up against her. “Come on,” he coaxes.
“Everyone’s downstairs,” she says. “They’ll be wondering where we’ve got to.”
“So?”
“So, let’s go and have one more drink, say our goodnights and then come up,” she says, not knowing whether that’s her real intention or she’s just saying it to cool his ardor.
“Fine,” he says stroppily, as he tucks his shirt back into his trousers. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
As she walks down the stairs, Rachel forces herself to clear her head of any feelings for Noah and any suspicious thoughts of Ali. Though, the fact that the two of them are now intrinsically linked makes it all the harder.