The Guilt Trip(87)

Rachel looks at the woman in front of her with new eyes. All this time, she’d had Ali down as being vacuous, so full of her own self-importance that she was unable to relate to anyone else. Yet, behind the facade of over-confidence, and under the pretense of having skin as thick as a rhino’s, she’s fighting to get away from a past that plagues her every waking moment. She can see it now, as the real Ali emerges from the shadow of the caricature she’s invented to protect herself.

“You are a good person,” she says to her. “Don’t ever feel you have to lie or make excuses for the person you are or the person you once were.”

Ali shrugs her shoulders pitifully. “But everyone’s going to see that picture,” she whispers.

“So what?” says Rachel, taking hold of her arms and turning her to face her. “The only people who really matter are here with you right now and they know what you’ve been through because they’ve watched you grow up. Anyone else who’s got a problem with it can go swivel on this.” Rachel sticks her middle finger up and Ali laughs.

Rachel looks at Maria, who’s nodding and sobbing into a tissue. From one mother to another, Rachel can see that she’d rather have gone through it herself than have her daughter hurt so much, that all these years later, she still feels the effects.

“Will!” Ali calls across the terrace to where he’s standing with his back to them.

Rachel can only imagine the turmoil going on inside Ali’s head as she reconciles how best to tell her new husband that she’s not always looked the way she does today.

He turns around with a concerned expression, as if knowing just by the way his name was called that his new wife is upset.

“Will, have you got my phone?” asks Ali, unable to keep her voice steady.

He comes toward them, rifling in his inside pocket.

“Yeah,” he says, handing it over. “Is everything all right?”

Ali unlocks it and her face instantly crumples. “She’s sent it to me too. She must have sent it to everyone.”

“I’m going to see what she’s got to say for herself,” says Maria, heading back in the direction of the restaurant.

“Er, what’s going on?” asks Will.

Ali looks at Rachel in exactly the same way as Josh did in the park that day, unable to comprehend why someone would be so horrible.

“It’s Chrissy…” she starts. “She’s sent this picture to everyone’s phone.”

Rachel waits for him to ask who it’s of and what it’s got to do with Ali. But as he squints at it, all he says is, “Why would she do that?”

“I don’t know,” cries Ali. “But now everyone will know.”

He takes hold of her face with his hands and smiles. “What does it matter who knows that you used to look like that?”

Rachel lets out the breath she was holding. He already knows. Of course he does. That’s why they’re a couple who are going to survive. Because they have no secrets from each other.

“When are you going to get it into your head that being the person you were back then has made you the person you are now?” he asks, smiling. “The way you handled that made you the strong, incredible woman you are today.”

It doesn’t sound like the first time Will’s had to dispense this speech, and Rachel’s heart feels as if it might burst.

“Their weakness made you strong,” he says in between kissing her. “Their jealousy made you selfless. Their bitterness made you sweet.”

Ali’s sobs dissolve into whimpers as his wise words sink in.

“Ali!” calls out Chrissy, breathlessly, as she runs toward them. “I don’t know how … I’m so sorry … it doesn’t make any sense.”

“I can’t even look at you right now,” cries Ali, her tears returning. “After everything we’ve been through together … how could you?”

“But I didn’t…” pants Chrissy. “I swear to God…” she says, looking as if she’s about to pass out. “This wasn’t me. I would never have done this to you.”

“It came from your phone,” says Ali accusingly.

Chrissy shrugs her shoulders and shakes her head, speechless.

“Well, if you didn’t do it, who did?”

An uncomfortable, but not altogether unsurprising thought begins to whir around Rachel’s brain.

Ali’s looking at her, as if she’s asking herself exactly the same thing.

If she’s capable of sleeping with her best friend’s husband, then she’s capable of anything.

“I saw her,” says Rachel, as if to herself. “She was looking at Chrissy’s phone.”

Chrissy looks from one to the other, desperately wanting to be let in on the conspiracy theory that’s gathering pace. “Who?” she asks.

“Paige,” says Rachel. “The friend I was with earlier.”

Calling her a friend already sounds so alien now.

“She was with you at the bar a little while ago and you were both looking at your phone.”

“Yeah,” says Chrissy, not seeming to grasp what’s being suggested. “She wanted to see the photos I’d taken of the wedding.”

“Jesus,” says Rachel, exhaling. “She must have sent it without you noticing.”