“Well, I...” Dread seeped into Claire’s stomach. Abby and Lucy and even Juliet were friendly, but the whole experience was an endurance test. The crowds, the noise, the feeling of ignorance and then the awkwardness at only drinking water while everyone was swilling wine. Although, actually, she’d like a glass of wine. “I suppose...”
“Great—”
“Can’t you tell she doesn’t want to go?”
Both Lucy and Claire turned in astonishment to see Dan leaning over the counter, scowling as usual, although this time it was at Lucy. “Stop pestering her. She said no yesterday and she’s trying to say it today.”
“Oh.” Lucy’s face crumpled a bit, and Claire felt a rush of sympathy.
“No, I don’t mind . . .” she began, unconvincingly.
“Oh, I didn’t realize,” Lucy said. “I’m sorry.” She turned to Claire with an uncertain smile. “I do rush on sometimes, I know, and I’m not always clued in to what’s really going on... but if you don’t want to go, you mustn’t. I mean, we can always find a fourth. I just thought…”
Claire was torn between appeasing a disappointed Lucy and taking the exit Dan had so surprisingly provided. In the end she chose to escape. “I’m sorry, I’m just not a party kind of person. But maybe something else, some other time, would be...” She trailed off, and Lucy nodded.
“Yes, of course. Sure. Brilliant.” She slapped a coin on the counter, waved at them both, and then hurried out of the shop.
Claire turned slowly to Dan. “Thank you,” she said. “I think?”
He arched an eyebrow, unsmiling. “What’s to think?”
“You might have just lost me my one friend in this village.”
“Lucy? That won’t put her off. But you should stick up for yourself. Learn to say no.”
“I know I should,” Claire said quietly. “But thank you for saying it for me.”
“Don’t expect me to again,” Dan said, and walked back towards the kitchen, no doubt to walk his dog. Claire watched him go, wondering if he did have a soft side like Lucy had said, or if he’d simply got tired of her waffling. Probably just tired.
Chapter eleven
Rachel
The day had not started well. The night hadn’t been that great, either. Rachel had fallen asleep with Nathan drooling on her shoulder and occasionally flinging his arm across her face until Meghan had crept in around four o’clock in the morning, smelling of beer and cigarettes and giggling tipsily.
“Oh, I’ll just sleep in your bed,” she’d whispered before Rachel, blinking blearily, had fully woken up.
“No...” she began, but Meghan was already creeping out of the room. Rachel sank back onto the bed and spent the next three hours being alternately kicked in the face and the kidneys until Nathan woke up at six thirty and demanded his Weetabix.
The morning was beautiful, with the birds twittering in the two runty trees in the back wedge of garden, the golden light filtering through their barely unfurled leaves. Rachel stood at the sink and tried to enjoy the moment, but Nathan was banging his spoon on the table, and she realized the grass hadn’t been mowed in forever.
She poured milk into her coffee and then into Nathan’s cereal as he looked up balefully.
“Mummy gives me sugar too, on top.”
Rachel dumped a spoonful of sugar over his Weetabix without a word. She sat at the kitchen table and sipped her coffee, trying not to feel irritated that she’d spent the night in bed with a toddler and she had to work all day. Meanwhile Meghan had wasted a hundred pounds’ worth of prescription pills and partied all night. And would no doubt be unrepentant about both when she finally stumbled downstairs that morning.
Rachel finished her coffee as Nathan turned his Weetabix into a brown, sugary mush without eating much of it. She’d never been a morning person, and usually slept in as late as she could, only to rush around grabbing coffee and banging dishes while Lily, Nathan, and Meghan tiptoed around her. She would actually enjoy this moment’s fragile peace, if she weren’t so tired.
Reluctantly she thought of last night’s drink with Andrew, his nasty assessment of her. You seem to think only yours does. It had been a bloody rude thing for him to say. He didn’t know anything about her life; he didn’t know how hard it was.
And yet she had been rude to Andrew, and even to Claire, since she’d clapped eyes on the pair of them. Seeing them again had made her take a hard look at her life and realize just about none of it was going to change. Would she be cleaning houses and taking care of her mother when she was fifty? Probably. It could be worse, she knew. If she hadn’t had that brief taste of freedom and opportunity at Durham, she’d be fine with the way things had turned out. It was just she knew how different they could have been.
“Hey, you’re not usually up this early,” Lily said as she came into the kitchen, knotting the belt of her ratty Doctor Who dressing gown that Meghan had given her for Christmas last year. Rachel hadn’t even realized Lily liked Doctor Who; she’dfelt a jolt of surprised uncertainty when she’d seen how pleased Lily had been with it.
“There’s the culprit,” Rachel answered, and pointed a finger at Nathan as she gave him a reassuring grin. He grinned back and then shoveled a spoonful of mushy Weetabix into his mouth.
“Where’s Meghan?”
