The Guilt Trip(58)

Rachel hooks the silk loops over the three buttons and smooths down any errant fabric. “You’re good to go,” she says.

Ali steps into a pair of peep-toe stilettos, the lace of which matches her dress, and picks up the posy of fuchsia bougainvillea and white clematis from the chair.

“Oh my God!” she shrieks, just as Rachel puts her hand on the door handle. “I almost forgot.”

Rachel turns to see her picking up a delicate silver necklace off the dressing table. “He will absolutely kill me if I don’t wear this,” says Ali, holding it out. “Could you just put this on for me?”

Rachel takes the chain, the weight of its significance bearing down heavily on every part of her. Her hands shake uncontrollably as she attempts to open the fiddly clasp and pass it around Ali’s neck.

The silver heart lies perfectly flat between Ali’s clavicles, while Rachel feels like hers has been torn out of her chest, and is flatlining on the floor.





18



“You look lovely,” says Noah as they meet in the hallway.

“Our car’s ready,” she says, desperately trying to keep her voice from wavering. “We should get going if we’re going to be there before Ali.”

“Rach,” he says, taking hold of her wrist as she turns to go out the front door.

“Don’t.” She doesn’t even attempt to look at him.

“You can’t just pretend this isn’t happening,” he says.

“I’m going to do exactly that,” hisses Rachel in a hushed voice.

“Hey, you two,” calls Paige from outside. “Let’s go.”

“Coming,” says Rachel through a false smile.

“You okay?” asks Paige, casually putting a hand on Rachel’s leg once they’re in the car.

She nods.

“If at any time it gets too much, just say the word and we’ll split, okay?”

Rachel looks at her, unable to believe that she deserves such a good friend. The nicer she is, the more wretched Rachel feels about the secret she’s been keeping for so long. It’s as if she’s living on borrowed time because she knows that once Paige finds out that she and Noah have been lying all this time, there’s going to be no pulling her back from the storm of fury she’s going to rain down on them.

But for now, Paige smiles warmly, making Rachel’s blood turn icy cold. She searches Paige’s eyes for a hidden agenda, a sign that she knows more than she’s letting on, but all she sees is a naivety that only serves to show Rachel how toxic her own thoughts and actions are. Her chest rises and falls at the enormity of how selfish she’s been, wanting her perfect little life to continue without ruing the consequences of something she did twenty years ago. And how dishonest she’s been, to profess that Josh is Jack’s child, when there may be even the slightest chance that he isn’t.

“Thanks,” says Rachel, barely audibly.

“What’s going on?” asks Noah. “Is everything all right?”

Paige looks at Rachel with raised eyebrows, as if asking permission to bring him up to speed. Rachel finds it hard to believe that she hasn’t already, but if she had, then the topic of conversation would have been different on the terrace. If Noah had the slightest notion that Ali and Jack were at it, he would most likely have already taken Jack out by now. He wouldn’t stand for Rachel being treated like that and he would most certainly have taken the opportunity to tell her how she deserves better. No, he can’t know, and she doesn’t want him to because it will only make things even more complicated than they already are.

“I’m just not feeling all that great,” she says in answer to Noah’s question. “I think I might be coming down with something.”

“I can always bring you back if you don’t feel up to it,” he says.

“We can always bring you back,” Paige chips in. “I’m not sure that Noah’s got it in him to last the whole day.”

“I feel okay, actually,” he says. “I’m looking forward to a drink.”

Paige tenderly cups his face in her hand. “Well, just take it steady,” she says. “No more scares. I don’t think I could go through that again.”

Noah smiles. “Sorry to give you such a fright.”

Paige takes his hand. “Just don’t make a habit of it,” she says.

Rachel feels like she’s playing a bit part in somebody else’s movie. She’s never seen Paige like this and if it wasn’t so ill-timed, it’d almost be funny.

The car tips forward as it descends a steep track; the imposing cliffs on either side feel as if they’re closing in on them, creating a pinch point that makes it look like the end of the road drops straight into the sea. Rachel briefly wonders what would happen if the brakes failed, and can’t stop herself from putting the window down, just in case: she’s seen enough films to know that it’s often the only escape once a car’s submerged under water.

“O-kay,” says the driver as he mercifully stops just short of the end of the dust track. If he’d gone just a few meters farther they’d be on the decked terrace in front of them, the only thing that seems to separate land from sea. He makes a point of pulling up the handbrake, hard.

“It’s here,” he says, gesturing to the left, toward a simple wooden shack of a restaurant with whitewashed paneling and a corrugated-iron roof.