The Guilt Trip

by Sandie Jones

  Rachel grimaces at the reminder, but a part of her wonders if Ali’s propensity to lie might actually work in her favour. It would certainly cast doubt on any revelations she cared to expose about Rachel and Noah.

  ‘Here they are!’ exclaims Jack, leaning on the bar, with a beer in his hand. Rachel had hoped that he might pace himself today, but if a few pints help to restore the equilibrium with Noah, she’s all for it.

  ‘We were waiting for you to bring us a drink, remember?’ Paige bites back. If Rachel knows Paige at all, she knows that it’s going to take all her resolve not to show her indignation at what Jack’s doing with Ali. Even in the best of circumstances, they have a cat-and-mouse relationship, taking it in turns to dangle the cheese. But with this time bomb ticking noisily underneath them all, it just feels like a matter of minutes before Paige lights the fuse.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ says Jack playfully, knowing that’s the perfect way to rile Paige. ‘You don’t seem the type to wait on a man for anything.’

  She looks questioningly at the glass of rosé he hands her.

  ‘No gin and tonics, I’m afraid,’ says Jack in response. ‘Just wine and beer.’

  ‘Here,’ says Noah, passing an identical glass to Rachel.

  She knocks the warm liquid back in two hits, desperate to feel its effects, trusting that it will numb her jangling nerve endings enough to enable her to be able to get through this afternoon and evening.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ announces a loud voice. ‘Mr and Mrs Hunter would like to request that you make your way up to the restaurant for the wedding breakfast.’

  ‘Let’s hope we’ll be able to get a decent drink,’ says Paige tightly. ‘And let us pray that we’ll be sitting together.’

  Rachel groans inwardly. She’d never been a fan of sit-down meals, where you were forced to make small talk with a total stranger for three hours, knowing you’d never see them again. She understood why it naturally fell that way whenever you got everyone from two people’s lives in the same room, but it didn’t stop the feeling of dread that consumed her as she counted down the minutes until she’d be back sat on her couch, wearing pyjamas and watching a boxset on TV. Today, though, she’s thousands of miles from home, so that isn’t an option.

  As she looks at the table plan at the door, she’s got everything crossed that Paige and Noah aren’t on her and Jack’s table. Because the atmosphere is toxic enough, at least to her, and she can do without the added tension of wondering when Paige might divulge Jack’s secret before Rachel’s ready to share it. And she certainly doesn’t need Noah’s eyes burning into her, whenever Josh comes up in conversation. If she had her way, she’d even rather be sitting on her own without Jack, because it gives her no pleasure to watch him hang himself, but she’d already been told there was no top table as such, so the best man would be all hers.

  The restaurant is pitched precariously on the cliffside, supported by what look to be ill-fitting stilts. Some long, some short, others clearly retrofitted in an effort to replace those that had been ravaged by the sea salt and heat of the summer sun. Rachel wishes she’d not seen the underside of it, as not only does it make her apprehensive about sitting in it for the next few hours, but it also reminds her of the state of her marriage, which for all intents and purposes looks solid, yet is on very shaky ground below the surface.

  The terrace, next to it, seems to be a newer addition, with more robust posts holding it up, out of harm’s way and the sea’s natural course. But the watermarks on the supports are evident, and Rachel shudders to think that at some point in the next few hours, the waves that are gradually claiming back the beach will be well over and above her head, creeping ever closer to where they’ll be dancing the night away.

  She can’t make her way back up the rickety staircase fast enough and, as if sensing her unease, Jack puts his hand in the small of her back, in an attempt to make her feel secure. She couldn’t feel any less so if she tried, both literally and metaphorically.

  ‘You okay?’ he asks with a wide smile when they reach the terrace that has now been set up with bar tables and outdoor heaters for when the sun goes down. She gives a curt nod as she looks up the dirt track that cuts a swathe through the rocky ridges either side of it. It’s so steep that it was no wonder the taxi had been able to cruise down, seemingly without power. She wonders what it would take to get herself back up it and into the nearest village, wherever that may be. She hopes it would be far enough away from here to make her feel less like she was being suffocated from the inside out.

  Despite its shoddy undercarriage, the restaurant itself is beautiful. Three of its sides are open to the elements, and the late afternoon sun is streaking across the round tables that are adorned with crisp white tablecloths, a centrepiece of bougainvillea and a tissue-wrapped favour on each place setting.

  Paige is already across the driftwood floor in search of her place and Rachel can’t help but feel relieved when she sees her disappointed face.

  ‘Please be seated where you find yourself,’ reprimands Ali’s mum, as Paige surreptitiously attempts to move her place name to where she’d rather be. She pulls a face behind Maria’s back as she’s forced to stay where she is.

  ‘Rachel,’ says Ali’s mum, with a warm smile that lights up her eyes. ‘You’re over at the front, on the table next to the bride and groom.’

  Rachel can’t help but wonder how complex the relationship must be between Ali and her mum since the accident. How could you ever forgive yourself for causing someone you love so much pain? Taking away their ability to ever walk again? And how could Maria not spend the rest of her life blaming her daughter for what she’d done? Yet despite it all, Rachel doesn’t think she’s ever seen a pair as close as they are, though the memory of Maria’s words, ‘It’s all a front,’ rings alarm bells loudly in her ears.

  As Rachel weaves her way through the tables towards the magnificent sea view, the fragrant aromas of fish and garlic remind her that she’s hungry, and with the amount she’s intending to drink, she knows it’s only sensible to eat as much as she can now if she’s going to avoid making a scene she doesn’t want to make.

  ‘Hello,’ says the man next to her awkwardly. ‘I’m Neil.’

  Rachel takes the hand he offers, and once again wonders about the absurdity of the intimate situation they’ve been forced into. She’s never met this man before, yet for the next few hours, he is her only outlet, as she is his, unless they want to endure a painful and unnatural silence. At least when you’re faced with this situation on an aeroplane, it’s commonly accepted that you either make eye contact or you don’t. But at weddings that’s not an option you can really choose.

  ‘Rachel,’ she says, through a controlled sigh. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  As it turns out, innocuous conversation is just what Rachel needs. Neil, a mechanic, and his wife Liz, a doctor’s receptionist, give her a blow-by-blow account of how they’ve left their three-year-old at home for the first time, and the banality gives her a temporary respite from the nightmare she’s trapped in. Thankfully, the nerves of having to deliver his speech ironically render Jack, on her other side, almost speechless for the duration of the meal.

  The sound of cutlery clinking against the side of a glass gradually stills the room and all eyes turn to Will, who’s already gazing adoringly at Ali.

  ‘I can’t believe I get to call this incredible woman my wife,’ he starts, to a rapturous round of applause.

  Rachel forces herself to put her hands together, but she looks about as enthusiastic as Jack does.

  ‘From the first time I laid eyes on Ali, I knew she was the one for me,’ says Will.

  Which is surprising, thinks Rachel, seeing as she was hanging off another man’s neck at the time.

  ‘After years of being in the wilderness . . .’ he goes on.

  ‘Quite literally,’ one of Will’s friends heckles.

  ‘I was thinking more from a companionship point of view.’ Will laughs. ‘I
didn’t think I’d ever meet my soulmate. But here she is . . .’ Ali fans her face with her hands in an attempt to stop her tears from falling. Will tenderly wipes them away with his napkin. ‘And she is the most generous, thoughtful and funny person I’ve ever met. We have had such a laugh together and there have been times when I’ve been lost for words at how kind and caring she is.’

  Rachel catches Paige’s wide-eyed look of disbelief.

  ‘Just last week, when we found out that her grandmother wasn’t going to be well enough to fly out here, Ali’s immediate reaction was to postpone the wedding. It didn’t matter at what cost, she just knew she didn’t want to get married without her gran here to see it. But, with a little persuasion on my part, and a lot from her family, she agreed to go ahead on the condition that we recreate a mini version for Grandma Nettie when we get back home.’

  Ali’s mum claps and dabs at her own eyes as she looks at her daughter with so much pride that she might burst. Rachel wonders how much more of this sanctimonious bullshit she’s going to be able to take.

  ‘But of all Ali’s admirable qualities, it’s her loyalty that astounds me the most.’

  There’s a snort from behind Rachel, at the exact same time as the wine she’s got in her mouth threatens to splutter from her nose. She doesn’t need to look to see who it is. Will gives Paige a few seconds to stop coughing and, as the clock ticks down, Rachel’s getting hotter and hotter.

  ‘So, yeah, as I was saying,’ Will continues. ‘Ali’s loyalty knows no bounds. When we met, I had just returned from another voyage of self-discovery in Vietnam.’

  ‘You took ten years longer than the rest of us to find ourselves,’ calls out the same heckler.

  ‘Yes, I am aware of that, thanks,’ says Will. ‘And, let’s be honest, my prospects weren’t great. As Ben has so helpfully pointed out, I’ve been a nomad ever since leaving university, with nothing of any relevance to show for it on my CV. Ali had a good job and I’m sure her friends told her not to waste her time on a no-mark like me.’ He looks around at the few women of Ali’s age, who all shake their heads and utter their disagreement. ‘Well, thank you ladies, but frankly I wouldn’t have blamed you. Yet somehow, someway, Ali decided it was worth backing me, and there hasn’t been a single day in the last three years that she’s made me feel it’s a decision she regrets. She has stuck by me, through thick and thin – waiting patiently for me to get my act together.’

  Ali grabs hold of his hand and looks up at him, her face full of devotion. Rachel empties her glass of red wine, not knowing who she feels sorrier for. Herself or Will.

  ‘Thank you for the loyalty you’ve shown and the trust you’ve put in me,’ he says to her, amidst much ah-ing and aw-ing. ‘I will never let you down.’

  He leans down for a kiss and the guests applaud and raise their glasses.

  ‘To the happy couple,’ says Jack, taking it as his cue to stand up. He clears his throat, and Rachel almost delights in how difficult this is going to be for him. Though, not nearly as difficult as it’s going to be for her.

  ‘I’ll keep it short,’ he says. ‘As I know you’ll all be keen to get your dancing shoes on, but I just want to say a few words about having Will as a brother.’

  Will groans and puts his head in his hands.

  ‘Well, not so much a brother, as an acquaintance, who on the odd occasion he’s bothered to call me in the last ten years, shows up on my phone as, “Will . . . you lend me a hundred pounds?” The line gives him the laugh he’d hoped for when he’d practised on Rachel the night before they left, when her world was a thousand light years away from the one she finds herself in now. When she’d lain there in bed, watching Jack as he strode up and down at the foot of it, pointing to her whenever he delivered what was supposed to be a humorous line.

  She’d kept her face deadpan for all four of the puns, until, exasperated, he’d thrown his piece of paper in the air.

  ‘You’re supposed to laugh,’ he’d sighed.

  ‘Well, maybe, I just don’t find you funny,’ she’d jested.

  ‘No?’ he challenged. ‘So, you don’t think I can make you smile?’

  ‘Nope,’ she’d said, as his head disappeared under the end of the duvet. She’d spread her legs as her book that had been lying dormant on her chest dropped to the floor.

  ‘Still not smiling?’ he’d mumbled, through the quilt.

  ‘Uh-uh,’ Rachel had managed, as she arched her back.

  She looks at him standing beside her now and can’t help but wonder how many times he’s made Ali smile like that.

  Bile rises, burning the lining of her throat with a poker-hot ferocity. If she stays here, she’s going to purge the remnants of her lobster casserole all over the table. With her face burning, more from embarrassment than the pressure of holding it in, she pushes her chair back and scoots behind a bewildered Jack towards where she hopes the toilets are. There are two doors; one’s clearly the kitchen, so she opts for the other, without looking back to see the trail of onlookers she might have left in her wake. Shutting herself into a cubicle, she pours cold water on the insides of her wrists and wills herself to calm down. But she can’t shake the image of Jack’s head buried between Ali’s legs from her mind.

  ‘Rach!’ comes Paige’s voice through the door. ‘You okay?’

  Rachel lets her in and falls into her arms. ‘I can’t do this,’ she says.

  Paige stiffens. ‘Do you want me to take you back to the villa?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ cries Rachel. ‘I just don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on and pretend that everything’s normal, when the best man, my husband, is fucking the bride.’ She knows she’s had too much to drink as she’s lost all volume control as well as the propensity to care who might hear.

  ‘Okay,’ says Paige, backing Rachel onto the closed toilet seat. ‘You’ve got two choices here; you either find a way of getting through the next few hours without driving yourself insane, or we’ll say that you’re sick and I’ll take you back.’

  ‘I should have stopped it,’ cries Rachel, ashamed to acknowledge that if Ali didn’t have what she has over her, she would have done. But instead of giving Will the chance to get out of a marriage that is destined to fail before it has even begun, she’d taken the coward’s way out, too scared of Ali’s recrimination; selfishly saving her own skin at the expense of Will’s. ‘He’s not done anything to deserve this and he’s going to be so devastated when he finds out he’s been betrayed by his brother and his wife. It’s him I’m most worried about in all of this. I couldn’t give a shit about Jack or Ali, or even me, but he’s done nothing wrong.’

  Paige looks taken aback. ‘Er, neither have you.’

  Rachel has never felt more compelled to tell Paige about Noah than now. She has done something wrong. So very wrong, and now, quite rightly, she has to suffer the consequences. She’s under no illusions about the double standards she’s currently living by.

  ‘Paige, listen . . .’ she starts.

  ‘No, you listen to me,’ says Paige, crouching down to Rachel’s height. ‘Will is not your responsibility. Ali’s got form – she’s done it before and, no doubt, she’ll do it again – that’s just who she is. What you now need to do is to find out if anything’s going on between her and Jack, because if it is, I swear to God . . .’

  Rachel nods, willing herself to get her act together. To gather the strength and resilience she needs to get through the rest of the day.

  ‘I assume you haven’t said anything to Jack yet?’ asks Paige.

  ‘I haven’t had the chance, but I will, tonight or tomorrow, depending on how drunk he’s planning on getting.’

  ‘And have you thought about what you’re going to do if he admits it?’

  A lump instantaneously forms in Rachel’s throat. ‘I need time to think about that,’ she says.

  ‘Can you live with a man who’s been unfaithful? Or are you always going to be thinking that, every time he’s late in from work, he�
��s with her?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she cries. ‘What if he wants to be with her?’

  ‘If he wanted to be with her, and her with him, then she wouldn’t have just married his brother, would she?’

  ‘I just don’t know what to think anymore.’

  ‘Whatever’s going on, it needs to be stopped,’ says Paige in a threatening tone. ‘Because I won’t stand for it.’

  ‘Anyone would think he’s your husband,’ says Rachel, laughing snottily.

  ‘I’m only thinking about you,’ says Paige, rubbing her hands up and down Rachel’s arms. ‘Do you want your husband back or not?’

  Rachel wasn’t aware that he’d gone anywhere . . . yet.

  ‘So, are you going to put your big-girl pants on and go out there, or am I calling a taxi?’

  Rachel stands up, shakes herself down and peers into the badly lit mirror. She rubs at the streaks of mascara that are smeared under her eyes and pinches her skin to get a rush of colour to her cheeks.

  ‘Here,’ says Paige, handing her a lipstick from her bag.

  Rachel takes it, twisting the silver casing in her hand, trying not to cry again. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you,’ she says, hugging Paige to her.

  ‘I’m sure you’d manage.’ Paige laughs.

  ‘No, I don’t think I would.’

  ‘Well, good job you don’t have to, then.’

  As the two women walk out of the toilets, Ali momentarily stops what she’s saying. Rachel’s not remotely surprised that, as uncustomary as it is for the bride to give a speech, Ali has taken it upon herself to give one. Another chance to be in the spotlight, just in case she’s not been in it enough already.

  Jack looks at Rachel like a six-year-old boy whose mum’s come late to the nativity play, but once she’s sitting beside him, he softens and rubs her back.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he whispers.

  Rachel nods, the bitter taste in her mouth rendering her speechless.