She cleaned two holiday cottages tomorrow afternoon, but she could do it in half the time if she hustled. “Of course.”
“I’ll see you at four.”
“Thank you, Miss—” Too late Rachel realized she didn’t actually know the woman’s name.
“Taylor,” the woman said, and Rachel heard a note of reproof in the woman’s voice. What kind of mother didn’t know the name of her daughter’s teacher? Except Rachel wasn’t Lily’s mother. “I’m Lily’s biology teacher. The other teachers might want to see you, too, if you want to make the arrangements.”
When the call ended, Rachel sat there for a moment, the phone cradled in her hand, exhaustion crashing over her. She saw a movement in the front window of the Wests’ house, and the pale sliver of a face between curtains before it moved away. Andrew, no doubt, wondering what she was doing sitting in his driveway. She reversed out of the Wests’ sweeping drive and headed down the beach road.
Four hours later Rachel pulled up outside her house, reversing into a parking space that gave her two inches on either end and hitting her neighbor’s bumper in the process. With a groan she got out to assess the damage and saw that it was a tiny scratch that could be buffed out with a rag and some polish, but Edgar Lacey would read her the riot act about it anyway. He was incredibly precious about his old banger, polishing it to a tired shine every Saturday morning while wearing nothing more than a vest and gym shorts. Not a sight Rachel liked to look at while eating her Shreddies.
She decided to tackle him later and headed inside to the chaos that was the Campbell home. The noise hit her first: Nathan screaming at the top of his lungs, Lily’s pulsing techno music, and her mother calling for something, a chaotic orchestra of her family life whose tune she usually didn’t mind. Today she found it nearly unbearable.
Rachel dumped her stuff in the cupboard under the stairs and headed first for her mother, poking her head around the doorway.
“Mum?”
“Sorry, love,” Janice wheezed. She was lying flat on her back as she did whenever the pain was really bad, her face pale and gray. “It’s just I’ve run out of pills and my back is aching something fierce.”
“You shouldn’t have run out,” Rachel said with a frown. She retrieved the brown plastic bottle from the bedside table and squinted to read the instructions. “Meghan had this filled only last week, and they’re meant to last a month.”
Her mother smiled in apology. “Poor Meghan spilled some in the toilet of all things, when she went to get me a glass of water. She forgot she had the open bottle in her hand.”
Which sounded a lot like Meghan. Rachel put the bottle back on the table. “I’ll phone the chemist’s emergency number.” Which would cost money they couldn’t afford, as well as a drive into Whitehaven. “Can you manage with ibuprofen till then?”
Her mother winced but then lifted her chin in what looked like a pantomime of bravado. “I suppose I’ll have to, won’t I?”
“Yes, I’m afraid you will.” Her voice came out sharper than she meant for it to. She was starting to feel savage; everything today seemed to be crowding her in, reminding her of how small and suffocating her life was and always would be.
She fetched a bottle of ibuprofen and poured her mother a glass of water. Janice Campbell heaved herself up against the pillows.
“Sorry, love.”
“It’s not your fault.” Bloody Meghan. With an impatient breath, Rachel helped her mother to rest against the pillows and then handed her two tablets.
“Better make it three.”
Wordlessly Rachel shook out a third and handed it over. After her mother had swallowed the pills, she headed upstairs to where Lily’s music and Nathan’s wailing were competing in both volume and aggravation. Rachel decided to tackle Meghan first.
“Meghan, why didn’t you deal with the prescription before I came home?”
“Say again?” Meghan glanced up from the mirror propped on top of her dresser, a lipstick in one hand. Nathan was wrapped around her legs, his head peeking out between her knees. At Rachel’s entrance, he’d stopped crying, at least for a second.
“Ray-Ray!”
“Hey, Nath.” She patted his head before turning back to Meghan. “Mum’s prescriptions. She said you dropped half the pills down the toilet this morning. But you had all day to deal with it, and you didn’t.”
Meghan stared at her for a moment, nonplussed, and then turned back to gaze at her reflection. “Oh. Yeah.” Slowly she leaned forward and outlined her lips in carmine red.
“Meghan. Seriously? That’s all you’re going to say?”
Meghan shrugged, her eyes still on her reflection. “What would you like me to say?”
“Oh, I don’t know? Sorry, maybe?”
“Okay. Sorry.” She smacked her lips together, unrepentant.
“Why didn’t you phone the prescription in, or text me? I could have picked it up on the way home.” Meghan didn’t answer,and for the first time since she’d come into the room, Rachel registered her sister’s outfit: tight miniskirt, clingy top, and way too much makeup. “You’re not working at the pub tonight, are you?”
