“Bloody hell!” she exclaimed, “what next?”
“Oh dear me, no need to panic, I'll go fetch some paper towels,” Nancy offered, “I'm so sorry to have made you jump. My fault entirely.”
She bustled off to find some paper towels.
Rachel surveyed the mess on her desk, coffee everywhere. Her computer wasn't working, and she wasn't looking forward to calling the IT department to ask for a replacement.
“I've just called Rob, he'll be up in a minute to fix your computer,” Bettina piped up.
“Great,” Rachel replied, getting more and more irritated by the smug look on her colleague's face. Nancy waddled back with a bunch of paper towels and started mopping up the spillage. “Thanks Nancy,” Rachel took some towels and wiped her chair.
“Whatever have we here,” a loud, booming voice bellowed in her ear. Rob Cashby. Mr. IT Department, or so he thought. He was a know- -it all; a condescending, patronising chauvinist and Rachel liked him even less than she liked Bettina.
“A simple spillage, Rob,” Rachel said, “no need to get too excited about it.”
“Your third this year, Rachel,” Rob scolded.
“Keeping count, are we?” Rachel asked.
“Well, we did have a bet in IT to see how long it would be until you wrecked another computer. Anybody would think you didn't like technology,” Rob effused, laughing at his own joke.
“I have to go to a meeting now anyway,”she said, “I assume it will be done by the time I get back,” and with that she strode off.
“Is everything OK?” Greg asked. Rachel was the first person in the boardroom and Greg was still setting everything up.
“Just dandy,” Rachel replied shortly, “apart from the fact I've destroyed another computer, and generally hate my life and my job,” and with that she burst into loud, uncontrollable tears.
Greg looked at her in shock. He stood there, staring at her, not knowing what to do. He and Rachel had started on the same day at Sherrington International. They'd worked their way up the ranks together, but Greg had decided to accept a position as a sales trainer, while Rachel preferred working in the call centre.
They really enjoyed each other's company and were very close at work. He came around the table and put his arms around her.
“Hey, hey, darling, it's OK, whatever it is that's bothering you, you'll be OK.”
She clung tightly to him. He always smelled so clean and soapy, as most homosexual men did. She had a bit of a crush on him, even though she knew he was gay.
“What's wrong?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
“My whole life is a complete mess, and nobody loves me. I'm going to turn into an old woman who smells of wee, surrounded by cats and I hate cats, they give me the creeps.”
Greg stifled a laugh, and handed Rachel a tissue. She scrubbed at her face, which was tear-streaked and puffy.
“I think you should take the rest of the day off, pull a sickie, and I'll pop over this afternoon and we can have a proper chat then,” he soothed. “I'll let Claire know you had to leave, I'll say you had a migraine or something.”
“OK, if you're sure you don't mind,” Rachel sniffed. “I don't think I can face work or anyone today.”
“Course I'm sure, you get yourself home, have a snooze, watch some rubbish day time TV and I'll be around this evening.”
“Thanks so much Greg,” she sniffed again.
Chapter 14
Rachel got a taxi home. She couldn't face standing in the cold and rain waiting for the bus home, trying to look normal, maybe having to make small talk with some random stranger. She just wanted to be home, alone, tucked up on her sofa, drinking tea with lots of sugar.
The taxi driver gave up trying to make conversation with her, and she sat in miserable silence all the way back to her flat. She struggled up the stairs to her front door and fumbled to put the key in the lock. Finally, she was inside, safe and secure.
She went to her bedroom and climbed into bed, leaving her coat, scarf, gloves and even her shoes on. She couldn't be bothered to get undressed. She wrapped the duvet tightly around herself and quickly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
A loud knocking at her door woke her abruptly, several hours later. It was dark outside, she didn't have a clue what time it was, and she didn't care either. She felt so tired, an all-encompassing, overwhelming aching tiredness.
“Go away,” she whispered at the banging, before she passed out again.
Next time she awoke it was her alarm clock ringing incessantly and noisily. She flung it against the wall and put her head under her pillow. She didn't want to get up. She didn't care if she got fired from her job. She fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
“Who's that singing?” Rachel's sleep was rudely interrupted by Blondie's “Maria” blasting from her mobile phone; her ringtone. “Christ Almighty, why do people keep bothering me? I just want to be left alone,” she said angrily to herself under the covers.
Her phone beeped as a text was delivered. She couldn't go back to her blissful sleep cos she had worked herself up into a bit of a tizzy with the ringing of her mobile phone, and also the call of nature forced her out of bed and into the bathroom. She sat on the toilet for ages. It felt like too much effort to get up. When her legs started going a bit numb she hauled herself off the loo and dragged herself into the kitchen. She made herself some tea and toast.
“I can't even be bothered to eat this,” she thought as she nibbled on a corner of the toast, “in fact, I can't be bothered to do anything.”
She threw herself down on the couch and started crying. Long, heaving sobs racked her body, and she soon fell into another deep sleep.
“Rachel, Rachel, are you in there?”
Loud banging on her front door brought her back to consciousness this time. It was Jenna. “Open up, it's me, Jen.”
Rachel lay on the sofa for a few more minutes and contemplated ignoring her friend until she went away, but decided against it.
“Coming, just a second,” Rachel replied. She pulled the door open.
“What happened to you?” Jen asked, concern written all over her face. “We've been trying to call you, and we've left a million text messages and voice mails. Nobody's heard anything from you for days.”
“Hardly days, Jen,” Rachel muttered, plonking herself down on the couch.
“Yes, days, dear, it's Thursday afternoon.”
“Who cares?” Rachel replied despondently.
“Well, for your information, quite a few people care very much about you, actually,” Jen said, “Liz has tried getting in touch with you, she's even been outside your flat, knocking on the door, but you never answered. Your mom's been on the phone to me, wondering if I'd heard from you. I lied and said you had a cold; thought it best to come see you myself before I worried your mother. Even Greg has been on to me. He said you left work early on Monday morning in a right state, and that you haven't been in the office since. He's covered for you, said you had a stomach bug or something.”
“Good,” Rachel mumbled.
“Good! It's not good at all, Rachel,” Jen exclaimed, “what is wrong with you? You look totally out of it.”
“I dunno,” Rachel said, “I'm so tired, all I want to do is sleep, and the more sleep I get, the more sleep I want. I've never felt so tired in my life. I came home from work on Monday, and I've been asleep until now. I've gotten up to use the bathroom, and that's about it.”
“Have you eaten anything?” Jen asked, putting an arm around her friend.
“I tried eating some toast but couldn't stomach it,” Rachel replied.
“Let's get a Chinese takeaway then, my treat,” Jen offered, getting her phone from her handbag and dialling Jasmine Chinese restaurant. She had their number on speed dial. “OK, dinner will be here in half an hour, in the meantime, I'll run a lovely bath and lay out some fresh, clean clothes,” Jen, ever the pragmatist said, as she ushered her friend into the bathroom.
“I don'
t think I could face a bath right now,” Rachel moaned.
“Tough, I can't face your body odour any longer so hop to it.”
“Gees, thanks,” Rachel said, a faint smile hovering on her face at her friend's frankness.
Half an hour later and the two friends were tucking into barbecued spare ribs, well Jen was tucking into them, Rachel was picking.
“Eat up,” Jen ordered. “You look like you've lost half a stone this week.”
“Not a gym in sight,” Rachel sighed.
“You'll feel a lot better when you get some food inside you.”
“I never thought I'd say this, Jen, but I don't even remotely want to eat any of this. What is wrong with me? I'm the woman who usually looks forward to dinner a week in advance. I love my food, until now.”
“Whatever is bothering you, Jen, we'll fix it together, I promise you, but first things first, you need to eat.”
Several barbecued spare ribs and a chicken curry later, the two friends were comfortably sitting on the couch, hot cups of sweet tea in their hands.
“At least you smell better now,” Jen teased, “I felt like I'd been smacked in the face with the smell when I first walked in here. There’s nothing like a bit of body odour to burn the hairs out of your nose.”
“Well, what do you expect, I haven't changed my clothes since Monday morning,” Rachel grinned.
“So what's wrong with you, Rach?”
“I don't know. I just feel like crying non-stop and the only relief I get from it is when I sleep. I wake up and I think to myself, as soon as I put my feet on the floor I'll get overwhelmed again. The only place I'm safe is in my bed, my little haven.”
“Do you want to come and stay with me for a while?” Jen asked, concern written all over her face. “Maybe the company will do you good.”
“Maybe, I don't know, I wish I could shake this dark cloud that's pushing down on me. I'm utterly unmotivated, and I feel completely devastated and what's worse is I have no idea why. I think I'll just wallow in my own misery for a few more days, thanks for your offer, Jen. I think I'm slowly starting to realise how much I depended on Tony and I don't want to start depending on you or anyone else too much. It's best I stay here, in my own place, and try to get through this episode myself.”
“Well, if you're sure,” Jen replied hesitantly, “the offer's open anytime if you change your mind. I'd be happy to have you stay at mine.”
“Whatever's wrong with me I'm sure it's only temporary.”
“You've had a lot to deal with emotionally over the past few months.”
“I'll be grand,” Rachel said, using her typical Cork expression.
“So, what's your plan of attack?” Jen asked.
“Honestly, Jen, there is no plan. I think I'm burnt out. The only thing I know for sure is that I'm definitely not going into work tomorrow.”
“Hmm,” Jen said dubiously, “Do you think that's wise?”
“I don't care if it's wise or not. I can't go into the office tomorrow for my own sanity. I can't bare the thought of listening to the inanity and tolerating the mundanity of working.”
“I suppose a night on the town is out of the question this weekend?” Jen grinned.
“Absolutely no way am I going out partying this weekend. I've had enough of flirting and drinking to last me a good long while,” Rachel said, “I'm just not in the mood for all that superficiality.”
“OK, well, give me a call if you change your mind, or need me for anything.” Jen hugged her friend goodbye, “it's getting late and I have an early start in the morning.”
“Thanks for everything, Jen,” Rachel squeezed her tightly, “I dunno what I'd do without you.” “Don't be daft, you'd do the same for me,” Jen waved as she shut the door softly behind her.
Rachel stood by the door and surveyed her little apartment. Even at this late hour, the hustle and bustle from the street pervaded the silence inside. She gathered up the remains of the Chinese meal and stuck the dishes in the sink. She felt a pang of guilt when she recalled what Jen had said about everyone being so worried about her. She went in search of her mobile phone and finally found it in her bedroom, buried deep under a pile of clothes in the laundry basket.
The battery was dead, so she plugged it in to recharge and switched it on, vaguely dreading reading the messages that had been left. There were several texts from her mother and Liz and of course Jen. There was a voicemail from Claire, her manager at work, asking if everything was alright and when she might be back at work.
There was a text from Greg saying he'd covered her absence at work. Rachel knew she should feel grateful at everyone's concern for her but she only felt an all-pervading numbness. Somebody could have hit her over the head with a frying pan there and then and she really wouldn't have cared. She wondered if she'd even feel it. I'd probably feel it a bit, she thought, smiling, in spite of herself.
She considered responding to her messages, and even started typing a few words to her mother out of sheer guilt, but she soon flung the phone on the coffee table, filled again with consuming indifference.
Chapter 15
The bright, morning sun beating in the window woke Rachel from her restless sleep. She'd neglected to shut the curtains the night before, so the sun's glare forced her awake. She squinted to see the clock which hung on the bedroom wall, eight o' clock. She tumbled out of bed and made her customary strong, black coffee. She slowly sipped the hot drink and felt her sleepy fog beginning to lift. She decided she couldn't face work, so instead decided to tackle the ever-mounting stack of dishes which were piled perilously high in the sink. She found the dish washing strangely therapeutic. She washed methodically and carefully.
Next, she moved on to loading the washing machine, then she vacuumed and dusted. She even cleaned the refrigerator and the dreaded oven, which she hated cleaning more than anything else. Each completed task made her feel increasingly better. Her mother always said that cleaning was good for the soul. She always knew when her mother was upset about something because she would pull on her rubber gloves and start cleaning and polishing in a frenzy.
Suddenly, she realised she was hungry, ravenously hungry, in fact. She found herself writing a grocery shopping list and decided to head to the supermarket. She brushed her teeth, cleaned her face with a baby wipe and spritzed herself liberally with deodorant She pulled on her favourite baggy sweatshirt and leggings, scraped her hair into a ponytail, stuck her feet into her comfy, battered Ugg boots and headed out the door.
She was surprised at how little traffic there was for a Friday morning and easily found a parking space in the supermarket's car park. She filled her trolley with all sorts of goodies and treats. She threw in a few healthy options too, to lessen the guilt of the naughty but oh so nice food. She was an avid calorie, carbohydrate and fat checker, and it was while she was absorbed in checking an unfamiliar product's contents, that she heard a familiar voice behind her.
“Rachel!” She swung round sharply.
“Oh! Tony, hi,” Rachel stuttered.
She recalled the last time he'd seen her and simply turned his back on her. She found herself blush slightly at the memory.
“How lovely to see you,” he said warmly.
“Yes, lovely to see you too,” was all Rachel could repeat in response.
After all, she hadn't had much social interaction for the past week and trust her luck on her first outing she would have to bump into her ex.
“Hi, Rachel, I'm Amy,” a voice popped up beside Tony, “I've heard so much about you.”
Amy was possibly the most beautiful person Rachel had ever seen. Her soft auburn hair fell in gentle waves to her delicate shoulders. Big chocolate brown eyes were framed by long, thick eyelashes. Her perfect rosebud mouth was smiling to reveal pearly white teeth, with the most endearing gap between her upper front teeth. Her most disarming feature of all was her dimple on each cheek. Rachel had to fight the urge to dip her fingers in them, just to check if they were re
al. She found herself gazing at Amy, for a minute too long.
“Oh, um, nice to meet you.” Rachel shook Amy's hand and even managed a smile.
Tony looked happy, truly happy, she thought as she looked into his eyes for the first time in quite a while. The old, familiar Tony looked back at her, but the look of love in his eyes was for someone else now, not her anymore. She was pleased for him, glad that he had found someone. “We must all have dinner sometime and catch up properly,” Tony smiled down at Rachel.
“Yes, absolutely,” Rachel agreed, and actually meant it.
Chapter 16
Something about her accidental meeting with Tony had a catalytic effect within Rachel. She felt unexpectedly relieved and happy that he had found someone new. She hadn't realised how guilty she had been feeling about breaking up with Tony. She knew he would have been perfectly happy to be with her for the rest of his life. She knew he loved her with all his heart and she felt tremendous guilt at finishing their relationship.
Even though he had agreed with her, she knew he was still very much in love with her when they broke up. She felt like a dark, heavy cloud had been lifted from her after bumping into him and Amy in the supermarket. She could see how happy he was with her, saw him look at Amy with the same love in his eyes that he had once had for Rachel. All Tony wanted was somebody to love, who would love him back, and Rachel sincerely hoped he had found that in Amy. She felt happy and free and able to take a deep breath for the first time in a long time.
She knew it was time for a change in her life, a major change, but what that change needed to be, she was unsure. She was tired of being unsure, exhausted even. She knew it was time to start being decisive, to start some honest soul-searching. Was it possible to just decide to change? Simply ask yourself a question, focus all your energy, your heart, your mind, your soul on the answer, and then act on your answer. Stop agonising over the pros and cons and consequences. Stop deliberating and debating and just get on with it. The key was to find the courage to act on the decision. Rachel was beginning to realise that all her agonising and procrastination was simply an avoidance of action.
Unforgettable Embrace Page 8
