“Is that why—”
“No. I told you. This is what I want, Rachel. Honestly.”
Rachel shook her head, unable to speak for a few seconds. Her throat felt thick with disappointment and sadness, and she struggled to find even the semblance of a smile. “Like I said, you need to make your own choices.”
“I wish you could be happy for me.”
“I will, eventually,” Rachel managed. “Give me time.”
“Hey.” Meghan’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “Who made the cake?” Lily winced. “Because the top layer is sliding off.”
Rachel rose from the sofa. “I guess we don’t need a cake anymore,” she said, her voice brittle.
“We’re not celebrating?” Lily sounded sad.
No, they weren’t bloody celebrating. Rachel took a deep breath. “I suppose we might as well eat it before it slides onto the floor
As soon as they came into the kitchen Meghan sussed what was going on, simply from their faces. “Uh-oh.” She stuck a finger in the dripping icing and sucked it off .
Lily made a face. “Eww, Meghan. That’s vile.”
“So you told her?”
“You knew?” Rachel whirled around from the cupboard, and Meghan took another fingerful of icing
“I knew she was thinking about not taking the exam,” she said, and swallowed.
Rachel banged the plates onto the table. “Did it have to come to this? Couldn’t you have told me before, Lily—”
“I tried. You never wanted to listen.”
Which was probably true.
“The only person in this family who wants to go to Durham, Rachel,” Meghan said, her voice surprisingly gentle, “is you.”
Rachel closed her eyes. “And I can’t.”
“Maybe not Durham, but why not Lancaster? You’ve filled out the application—”
“I know.” Rachel opened her eyes and sniffed. “We’ll see,” she said.
A couple of hours later Rachel remained downstairs, wiping kitchen counters that had already been wiped as Meghan and Lily went upstairs to get ready for bed. The pipes clanked and the floorboards creaked, but otherwise the house was quiet, the last of the sun’s rays slanting through the kitchen window even though it was ten o’clock at night. Rachel used to love the late summer evenings; when she’d been little she and her father had walked to the beach at nine o’clock at night, the sun still glinting off the sea. It had felt magical, like a secret they shared, to be out so late.
When had she lost the pleasure in summer nights, in sunlight glinting off water, in anything? For years she’d simply been slogging through each day, head lowered against the rain, the wind, the world.
Lily was right. She had been a nag. And Meghan was right too; she’d been a grumpy git. She wanted to change, but at that moment she didn’t know if she had either the energy or the will.
Her phone buzzed with a text, vibrating on the kitchen table like an angular insect, and wearily Rachel picked it up.When someone texted this late at night, it usually meant the cancelation of a cleaning job.
Can we talk?
It was from Andrew. Rachel stared at her phone for a few seconds before she thumbed a reply. We can text.
The phone buzzed back with another text. No. Talk. I’m standing outside your door.
Her heart felt as if it were clambering up her throat as she flung the phone onto the table and hurried to the front door. Opened it and saw Andrew standing there with a sheepish smile.
“What—”
