The Guilt Trip(73)

“Okay,” says Chrissy reluctantly. “I’ll just be outside by the bar.”

Rachel hears the door open and close and a few more sniffs coming from next door. She doesn’t know whether to bolt out of there to avoid Ali—after all, she has nothing left to say to her—or let her go first.

The door unlocks and a tip-tap of shoes crosses the tiled floor. Water runs and the hand dryer blasts hot air into the tiny space. When it turns off, Rachel waits for the door to open and close, but there’s only silence. No movement. No tip-tap. Nothing—just an ominous stillness.

It’s beginning to feel awkward, like a standoff, with only a flimsy sheet of Formica to witness who will break cover first.

Rachel doesn’t want a confrontation, but she’s not going to hide in a toilet all night. She smooths down the fabric of her dress and takes a deep breath as she prises the lock and opens the door. If Ali is surprised it’s her, she doesn’t show it. In fact, she’s standing purposefully against the basin, as if waiting for her.

“Excuse me,” says Rachel, tightly.

Ali moves aside and exhales. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” she says.

Rachel rests her hands on the edge of the sink, lets her head fall and laughs.

“What’s so funny?” asks Ali.

“Is that honestly all you’ve got to say? You’re not usually one to be lost for words. I expected more from you, quite frankly.”

Ali looks at her quizzically. “Has he told you?”

Rachel, feeling her temper fraying, turns to face her, their noses just an inch apart. “Yes,” she shouts. “Yes, he’s told me.”

“And you think it’s funny?”

“If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry,” says Rachel. “Because it is so fucked up, that I can’t even begin to understand why you would have done it. What did you think you were going to achieve? Did you really think you were going to coerce Jack into submission?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” says Ali, her bottom lip beginning to wobble. “I just wanted him to be honest with you, because believe it or not, Rachel, I really like you.”

Rachel laughs sarcastically again. “Wow, really? Well, then I’d hate to see what you do to your enemies.”

“What are you going to do?” asks Ali.

“About this?”

Ali nods nervously.

“Well, we’re going to ride this out, for Will’s sake, while we’re here, but once we get home, I don’t want you anywhere near me or my family.”

“Seriously?” asks Ali, tearfully.

“Seriously,” mimics Rachel. “Though, I can’t guarantee that Jack will be able to hold back until then. He has every intention of telling Will what’s been going on.”

Ali screws her face up. “Why does he need to bother Will with this? I’ve kept it to myself for months, out of respect for you and, for some illogical reason, Jack. Why would either of you want anyone to know about this? He really has no shame, does he?”

Rachel leans in toward Ali, her teeth grinding against each other, in an effort to stop the vicious diatribe that is threatening to project from her mouth. “If you come anywhere near my husband again, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

“I assume you’re going to say the same to her.” Ali spits the last word out as if it’s venom.

Rachel stops and looks at her, her patience hanging by a thread. “Her?”

Ali dries her tears and looks at her wide-eyed. “He hasn’t told you, has he?”

Rachel doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of saying no.

“Oh my God,” says Ali, looking at Rachel’s slack-jawed expression. “The bastard’s not told you the truth.”

Rachel straightens herself up. “He’s told me what I need to know,” she says, suddenly feeling like a fish out of water. “That you’ve been harassing him for months, years even, refusing to take no for an answer.”

“You think I’ve been going after Jack?”

“I don’t think. I know. And it all makes sense, the constant innuendos, the smutty gifts—though, how you pulled off the necklace ruse this morning, I don’t know, because there’s no way you could possibly have known that I would find the receipt.”

Ali fingers the heart hanging around her neck. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” spits Rachel. “Did you think that by pretending something was going on, it would make it true?”

“I don’t…” stutters Ali, shaking her head. “I don’t understand.”

Rachel laughs cattily. “Taking him off at the airport, asking him inflammatory questions, giving him inappropriate gifts, trying to go for a run with him. It’s desperate behavior by someone who isn’t used to being told no.”

Ali closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“But guess what?” Rachel goes on. “He’s not interested.”

“I didn’t do any of that to try and make you think something was going on between us,” says Ali, looking confused. “I wanted to put him on the spot; to make him feel under pressure to do the right thing. The questions and gifts were all designed to let him know that time was running out.”