Lucy tried to involve her in the first few questions, but after Claire had apologetically shaken her head several times, having no clue as to any of the answers, she gave up. Claire sat back and sipped her water, wondering when she would be able to call it a night without offending anyone.
Rachel already seemed offended. Actually, Rachel had seemed irritated by her presence from the moment she’d seen her coming out of the bathroom yesterday. Claire glanced sideways at her; Rachel was hunched over her piece of paper, scribbling. She obviously knew the answers to the quiz, but then, she’d always been clever.
Rob Telford, who was directing the quiz, asked another question. “What countries border Spain?”
“Italy, of course,” Rachel said quickly.
“And France—”
“Any others?”
“Portugal,” Claire blurted, pleased she actually knew something. “Portugal borders Spain to the south.”
“Of course.” Rachel wrote it down. “Claire used to live in Portugal,” she told the others, and Lucy and Abby swiveled to face her with expressions of polite interest.
“That must have been brilliant,” Lucy said. “Far better weather than here.”
“It was hot,” Claire answered, and wondered if she was the only one who thought she sounded so inane.
Rob Telford called for a five-minute break, and it seemed like a good time to make her departure. “Look, I’m really sorry,” she said. “But I’m still tired from... everything, and I ought to get to bed.”
Rachel pushed back from the table, tilting her head up to gaze at Claire. “Busy day tomorrow?”
“Are you working locally?” Lucy asked.
“No, no... just...” What was she doing tomorrow? Wandering around the house or the village, trying to fill up all her empty hours. “Actually, I’m looking for a job,” Claire said. “So if you know of anything going...”
“The real estate market isn’t too big here,” Rachel said. “Not like in Portugal.”
“It doesn’t have to be real estate. I’d do just about anything, actually.”
“Dan Trenton at the post office needs an assistant,” Lucy suggested, and Claire couldn’t keep herself from grimacing.
“I’ve already tried the post office,” she said. “Dan Trenton wasn’t too impressed with me, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, Dan’s a big softie really,” Lucy said, and Rachel snorted. “You should try again. He could use a little company in the shop.”
“You seem to know everyone, for only having been here six months,” Claire said.
“That’s Lucy for you,” Abby chimed in. “She’s the friendliest person I know.”
Lucy blushed and smiled and Rachel rose from the table. “Right, more wine,” she announced. “While there’s time.” She gave Claire a goodbye type of smile, and Claire murmured something about how nice it was to see her again. Even though it wasn’t.
She watched Rachel head over to the bar and wondered just what it was about her that bothered Rachel so much. They’d been friends once, even if they’d stopped in Year Six. There had never been a falling-out, no big argument or tears or tantrums. Just a casual, gradual drifting away, but Claire supposed that was natural. They’d been very different, and they’d been heading to different secondary schools. Still, it made her sad, both then and now.
“Rachel can be a bit prickly,” Lucy said. “She’s got a lot on.”
Claire turned back to Lucy. “Has she?”
“With her mother bedridden and her younger sisters... Rachel manages everyone, and she works like a devil.” Lucy glanced at Rachel thoughtfully; she was leaning against the bar, chatting with Rob with a look of almost fervent determination on her face. “She wasn’t on top form tonight, though.”
“I think that was because of me.” Lucy and Abby turned to stare at her in surprise, and Claire explained, “We were friends in primary school, a long time ago. But I think I annoy her now.”
“No,” Lucy protested, but she sounded unconvinced.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Claire said, and made her way through the tables to the door. As she was reaching for the handle, she glanced back at Rachel and felt a jolt of uneasy surprise to see Rachel gazing back at her. She started to smile, but Rachel simply moved her gaze on, as if she hadn’t seen her at all.
Early the next morning she woke to the phone ringing shrilly, clicking over to voice mail, and then ringing ahead. With a groan Claire reached for the receiver by her bed and managed a groggy hello.
