"Get up! We have to be at the airport by one o' clock and we have a two hour drive before we get there." Holly yelled, pulling the duvet unceremoniously off her sister.
"Ok, ok," Rachel stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. She was horrified at the state of her reflection in the mirror. She hadn't taken her makeup off from the night before and her bronzer and foundation had worn off in patchy, brown circles on her face. She had big black panda eyes from her smudged mascara and her hair was a tangled bush that was standing up in all directions.
She could barely open her eyes as her eyelashes were almost stuck together and were very bloodshot. An ugly red pimple was developing on her chin and all in all she looked like she'd been dragged through a hedge backwards. She turned the shower on to full power and let the hot water run over her hair and body for a few minutes. She felt a little better from the steam and shower gel. She almost fell over when she tried to dry in between her toes. Still drunk from last night, she thought miserably.
Liz had taken pity on her and had gone to get her some coffee and toast. Jen found some painkillers in her handbag, and Holly gave her a big bottle of water to sip.
"What came over you?" her sister asked. "I've never seen you behave so badly before."
"I know it's no excuse but I was very upset about Batt's text and I drank way too much to try to forget about him."
"Are you going to tell Batt about your shenanigans last night?" Liz asked.
"I can't even remember my shenanigans, let alone tell him about them," Rachel said curtly, taking a long sip of the strong black coffee. She felt too sick with her hangover to eat the toast and had to stop after a few bites.
"The painkillers should kick in shortly," Jen said, "you should start to feel a little better then." "I hope so," Rachel sighed, downing the tablets in one gulp.
Rachel thought the drive to the airport was never going to end. They had to stop the car twice for her to throw up at the side of the road. Every bump and twist made her stomach heave. Finally, they arrived at their destination. Rachel had never been so happy to see an air hostess in her life. Her friends had been very short with her all morning, so it was good to have someone be pleasant to her. They sat in the departures lounge in relative silence until their flight was called for boarding.
"You better not puke on me," Holly warned her sister, as made their way to their seats.
"Oh, get over it already," Rachel said, getting annoyed with her sister's attitude.
"I will not get over it," Holly said, "and you can lose your tone. You've ruined a perfectly nice weekend with your dramatics."
"I wouldn't go that far, Holly," Jen said, feeling a bit sorry for Rachel. "It was only a few hours last night, and in fairness she was very upset, other than that I had a brilliant time."
"I don't care," Holly said, "I'm tired of her always wanting to be the centre of attention."
"I do not always want to be the centre of attention," Rachel protested, suddenly finding her voice again.
"Will you two keep your voices down please!" Liz hissed at her friends. “People are starting to stare."
"Who cares?" Rachel hissed back, "you're always so concerned about what everyone else thinks. If people want to listen then let them listen, if their lives are that boring then I hope they find us very entertaining."
"Oh, get over yourself, Rachel, honestly," Liz said, raising her voice now herself.
"Right, that's enough from you three," Jen said, "if you lot don't pipe down we'll be removed from the 'plane and that definitely wouldn't be a very pleasant way to end our weekend."
"Fine," the three girls said in unison, before proceeding to ignore each other for the rest of their flight.
"Twenty minutes to landing," the pilot's voice announced over the intercom system.
"Thank goodness for that," Holly said, "the sooner we land, the sooner this fiasco can end." "Not really," Rachel responded, "you three are staying with me tonight, remember?"
"No, actually, I've just decided to drive back to Cork tonight," Holly said, "and Liz and Jen are more than welcome to get a lift with me if they like."
"Suits me just fine," Rachel sniffed. "You're not welcome anyway, Holly."
"I'd like to stay tonight, Rach, if that's still ok," Jen said, "I really can't face the thought of driving all the way home after flying."
"Fine," Rachel said shortly. "I think I'll go back to Cork with Holly," Liz said.
"Good, more room for us," Rachel replied, not making any sense. Jen looked at her quizzically but thought it best not to say anything else to wind her friend up.
They made their way through passport control and arrivals in relative silence. Holly and Liz got into Holly's car, barely saying goodbye as they left and Jen and Rachel drove away in Rachel's car.
"Are you ok?" Jen asked her friend as they drove back to Rachel's house.
"Never better," she responded shortly. "Well, there's no need for sarcasm."
"Can we just be quiet for a while please, Jen? I'm not in the mood for another argument today. It seems like I've fallen out with just about everybody and I'd rather not start fighting with you too."
"Ok," Jen said, sitting back in her seat and closing her eyes.
They drove the rest of the journey without speaking another word to each other, their silence only broken by the hum of the radio.
Chapter 50
Jen left early the following morning. She'd tried talking to Rachel the previous night but she had rebuffed her attempts at conversation. The two friends hugged goodbye.
"I am sorry for my behaviour," Rachel apologised to her friend.
“I really hope I didn't ruin your hen party."
"You didn't ruin anything," Jen said kindly, "I had a ball, so thank you. Promise me you'll call me if you need anything."
"I promise," Rachel said, hugging her friend even tighter. She waved Jen goodbye as she drove away.
Rachel closed her front door softly behind her and heaved a deep sigh. It was at moments like this that she was glad she lived alone. She made herself a cup of sweet tea, threw another log on the fire and pulled her armchair closer to it, savouring the heat from the roaring flames. She thought about the weekend that had just passed and she did feel ashamed of her drunken behaviour. She couldn't remember most of it. She vaguely recalled kissing Scott and dancing wildly, but that was about it. She felt her cheeks burn a little in embarrassment because she knew how outrageous her behaviour could be when she'd had too much to drink. She decided to text apologies to Liz and Holly and see if Batt had bothered to text her yet.
She hadn't switched her phone on in a few days so she expected to have several messages waiting for her. She had a text from Scott telling her how much he'd enjoyed their dance together and how he wished it could have been more. She cringed at the memory. What was I thinking? She sighed to herself, I didn't even really fancy him. She jumped when she saw a text from Batt beep on her phone. She couldn't open the message fast enough, all thoughts of Scott forgotten.
"Hi darling," she read, "sorry about that text I sent you in French, that was for my daughter. I haven't been in touch with you because I was in the mountains, bird-watching, and didn't have any reception. I hope you had a good weekend. Let me know when you are free and I'll pop over to see you. I love you and miss you loads xxx."
Rachel read his text several times. He was texting his daughter, she thought, her heart sinking. Oh no, trust me to jump to the wrong conclusion. Now I have to tell him that I kissed someone else. What's he going to think of me? She decided to ignore his text for now, not knowing how to respond to it. There was no way that she wanted to see him until she got her head straight.
He would know immediately just by looking at her that she was guilty of something if he saw her face any time soon. She started to panic at the thought of losing Batt for a stupid meaningless kiss with a stranger who she didn't even find particularly attractive.
She turned on the television in an attempt to distract
herself from her churning mind. She wanted to call her friends to discuss her situation but she figured she'd bothered them enough for one weekend without annoying them again. Do I really try to make myself the centre of attention, like Holly said? She asked herself. I hope not. Her mind raced for most of the morning. She didn't know whether or not she should tell Batt about the kiss, after all it was just a kiss, nothing else. She tried to convince herself, but she didn't think Batt would be very impressed with her behaviour.
She admitted to herself that if he confessed to kissing a woman, stranger or no stranger, that she would feel very disappointed and let down. She also knew that she wouldn't be able to live with the guilt of not telling him what she'd done, so she knew she'd have to tell him eventually. Not yet, she thought to herself, I will tell him, just not yet. I need to stop thinking about it, she told herself, I need to stop analysing the situation.
She decided to get busy as it was the only way she could keep her mind off the kiss and Batt. She wasn't due back at work until the following morning but she decided to pop in to the shop there and then as she couldn't stand being stuck in the house all alone with her own thoughts any longer. She walked along the sea road to work, hoping the fresh air and waves would clear her head. It was good to be outside in the sun. She started to feel a little calmer.
"Hi Rachel," Helen, her sales assistant looked up in surprise as she pushed the door open.
"Hi Helen," Rachel smiled weakly at her. "How has business been in my absence? Any dramas?"
"Everything's been fine," Helen said, "lots of orders coming in which I've written in the diary for you to have a look at, but there haven't been any dramas. Busy, but I managed."
"Thanks so much, Helen," Rachel said gratefully, "I knew I could count on you."
"Anytime," Helen smiled at her boss, before continuing with a rather complicated looking flower arrangement.
Rachel busied herself with the shop diary and reading through her emails. There were even more orders on the computer as well as the usual junk mail. She was glad of the distraction that the shop offered her. She spent several hours pottering about and almost forgot about having to tell Batt about the kiss until Trista came blustering into the shop. Rachel didn't even have to look from her desk to know that Trista had arrived. The heady scent of her perfume announced her entrance ahead of her.
"Rachel, darling, when did you get back?" she asked, swinging into the shop, dressed in head-to-toe winter white.
Rachel was almost dazzled by the brightness of her outfit. She wore a long, floaty cape over a cashmere polo neck jumper and skin tight trousers. Rachel was mesmerised by the four and a half inch high heels she was wearing.
"How do you get around in those shoes?" she asked her friend in wonderment.
"Practice, darling, practice," came Trista's response. "I thought you weren't due back to work until tomorrow, sweetie."
"Technically, I was due back tomorrow but I got a bit bored at home by myself."
"Well, that just won't do at all," Trista tutted, "gather up your belongings my dear, I'm taking you out to dinner and I won't take no for an answer so you can wipe that look right off your face, missy."
"Ok, ok," Rachel laughed in defeat, "give me two minutes."
"I don't mean to sound rude, Trista," Rachel said as they left the shop, "but would you mind dreadfully if we had dinner at yours? I'll pick us up a Chinese on the way, my treat. I honestly don't feel like sitting in the pub for dinner, making small talk with the locals and I don't particularly feel like sitting in my own house for the evening looking at the four walls."
"Not at all, darling, not at all, my house it is then," Trista said lightly. "I'll cook us dinner and you can tell me all about the weekend."
Half an hour later and Trista was opening her front door. She had a lovely home, very elegant but at the same time homey and comfortable. Trista kicked off her heels as she entered the hall and breathed a sigh of relief, instantly looking much shorter.
"Ooh, it's so good to get these shoes off my poor aching feet," she groaned, rubbing her soles gingerly.
"Why do you wear such high heels every day?" Rachel asked, "they must be agony."
"They can be agony at times," Trista agreed, "but I like the feeling of power I get from being so much taller than everyone else around me. I had a meeting with my bank manager today and he really is such an obnoxious little chap. I just love making him feel even smaller than he actually is." Rachel laughed at her friend. She lead the way into the kitchen and poured them both a white wine spritzer.
"I'm just popping upstairs to change into something more comfortable," Trista said, after taking a long sip of her drink. "Back in a minute darling, make yourself at home."
Rachel sat at the breakfast bar, watching the ice cubes dissolve into her drink, lost in her thoughts again. She checked her phone for the millionth time, another text from Scott asking her if she was alright and a missed call from Batt. She hurriedly switched her mobile off again, not wanting to deal with the situation just yet.
"What do you fancy for dinner?" Trista asked, breezing back into the kitchen. She looked like a completely different person to the woman who Rachel had seen only a few minutes earlier. She'd scraped her perfectly coiffed, blonde bob back into a tight ponytail on top of her head and she'd removed all traces of her makeup. Her glamorous outfit had been exchanged for a slightly worn, baggy velour tracksuit and she had a pair of battered old sheepskin slippers on her feet. Rachel felt a little disorientated talking to her as she wasn't used to Trista's face without her usual coat of war paint.
"Whatever you fancy eating is fine with me," Rachel smiled at her friend.
"A chicken stir-fry I think," Trista said, "something fairly healthy, darling." Trista banged about with pots and pans and Rachel helped her chop vegetables and chicken breasts into tiny pieces. They worked happily together, chopping and stirring and Rachel entertained Trista with all her stories of the hen weekend.
"Oh to be young again," Trista sighed, "Jen must be so excited about her wedding, not long to go now until her big day."
"Not long at all," Rachel agreed, "a few short weeks."
"I suppose you'll be taking that gorgeous boyfriend of yours to the wedding," Trista smiled. "Yes, I will," Rachel said in a somewhat strained voice, which Trista picked up on straight away. She looked at the younger woman in concern.
"Everything ok?" she asked.
"Not really," Rachel answered hesitantly and proceeded to tell Trista about her drunken antics of the previous weekend.
"Well, we all do silly things when we've had a few too many drinks," Trista said, trying to console Rachel. "I'm sure Batt would understand if you explained it to him."
"What's to understand?" Rachel said, disconsolately. "I kissed someone else drink or no drink, there's no real excuse for what I did. I know I wouldn't be impressed if he told me that he'd kissed someone else."
"He did send you that text where you thought he was saying "I love you" to another woman," Trista continued.
"Yes, but I jumped to conclusions and switched my phone off. When I checked my mobile later, he'd texted me and said he'd meant to send it to his daughter."
"I know, but you'd also just had an argument, so it was understandable that you jumped to conclusions."
"I didn't waste any time though, did I?" Rachel said.
"You were a touch quick off the mark," Trista grinned, "but he'll appreciate you being honest with him, I'm sure. I think you should definitely tell him what happened."
"I know I'll have to tell him," Rachel agreed reluctantly, "but I'm absolutely dreading it."
"He'll get over it, don't you worry," Trista advised, "he'll be hurt at first, of course, but if he loves you as he says he loves you then he'll forgive you. After all, it was just a kiss."
"Thanks for listening, Trista, you always know how to cheer me up," Rachel said, later that evening, as she hugged her friend goodbye. "I feel like I have a better perspective on the situ
ation now. I'll call Batt as soon as I get home."
"Excellent idea," Trista agreed, "just be honest and get it out in the open."
Chapter 51
So much for my better perspective, Rachel thought miserably, as she sat eyeing her phone like it was a piece of radioactive material. She'd made several attempts to call Batt and failed. She'd composed several different text messages and deleted them before sending even one to him. Now she was sitting on her couch just staring at her mobile phone. Ok, I'll have one more cup of tea, then I'll call him, she decided, hauling herself up. She scrubbed all the old tea stains out of her mug, then dried it meticulously, then spent as long as she could squeezing the teabag, knowing that she was desperately procrastinating the moment when she would have to make the dreaded call to Batt.
"Oh Holy Night" blasting from the sitting room made her jump and spill her tea all down her front. What the hell is that noise? She asked herself, before realising it was her phone ringing. She still hadn't changed the ringtone since Christmas. She ran to grab it before the call rang out. It was Batt. Her heart skipped a beat as she picked up her phone and answered his call.
"Hello," she said, tentatively.
"Hi, Rachel, sweetheart," Batt's voice sounded happy on the other end of the phone.
"Hi, darling," she replied, feeling like a fake.
"It's so good to hear your voice, Rach," he said, smiling into the phone.
"It feels like ages since we've spoken. I'm sorry for being annoyed with you. I know you need space. I've missed you so much." Rachel let him chat away, telling her all about the farm and his daughter and how she was coming to stay for the summer holidays. "You're awfully quiet," he said suddenly.
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