“Meghan . . . are you . . . ? Are you all right?”
“All right? Why shouldn’t I be all right?” Meghan’s face was blotchy, her eyes bloodshot, and her clothes hung off her wiry frame. “Rachel’s not here if you’ve come over to do each other’s nails.”
“Actually, I’m here to talk to Lily.”
“Lily?” Meghan’s gaze narrowed. “What do you want her for? Are you turning into Lady Bountiful or something?”
Claire flushed, discomfited by the vitriol in Meghan’s voice. “No. I just need a fourth person to make up a team for the pub quiz,” she said. “Is she around?”
“She’s upstairs,” Meghan answered, and walked into the kitchen, leaving Claire standing on a stoop for the second time that day.
She stepped inside the cluttered mess of the front hall, unsure if she should go upstairs in search of Lily or ask Meghan to help. It felt wrong to nose through Rachel’s house, but Meghan hadn’t left her much choice.
After standing there uncertainly for a few seconds, Claire started up the steep, narrow stairs. She hadn’t realized how small and shabby Rachel’s house was. When she’d last been there she’d been so uncomfortable she hadn’t registered thestate of the house beyond the overwhelming smell of Nathan’s soiled underpants. Fortunately, the house smelled clean now, even if didn’t look it.
She picked her way up the stairs, stepping over crumpled clothing and discarded shoes before calling cautiously, “Lily?”
A thump sounded from one of the rooms and then Lily poked her head out of a doorway at the end of the hall, her mouth dropping open at the sight of Claire.
“Claire? What are you doing . . . ?”
“I’m glad you’re home—”
“I’m on study leave.” Lily stepped out of her room. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine. Meghan told me to come up. I just wondered if you wanted to come to the pub quiz tonight....” Quickly Claire explained her mission, and after her shock at seeing her there cleared, Lily brightened and agreed to come.
“As long as Rachel doesn’t mind me horning in on her territory.”
“Oh, do you think she will?” Claire winced inwardly at the thought of facing Rachel’s wrath yet again. “I didn’t even think of that....”
“I’m sure it’s fine. The worst she’ll do is nag me to study instead.” Lily made a face and then ducked back inside her room, and Claire made her way downstairs.
She saw Meghan in the kitchen, sitting at the table with Nathan on her lap. Claire hesitated, torn between making her escape and reaching out to Meghan, whose features looked drawn in stark lines, her expression cringingly bleak.
Then Meghan turned and caught her staring, and her face hardened into an expression of simple malevolence. “Finished, then?” she demanded, and with a nod Claire took an apologetic step backwards.
“Yes, yes—”
“Go on, then,” Meghan said, and hugged Nathan closer to her.
“Meghan . . .” Claire began, because she couldn’t just leave her there. “Are you . . . ? Are you okay? Because you seem . . .”
Meghan let out a harsh laugh. “Seem what? You’re the one who did a stint in rehab, love.”
Claire recoiled, shocked. “Did Rachel tell you?”
“No, but things have a way of getting out in a place like Hartley-by-the-Sea. Didn’t you know?” Meghan’s smile was malicious.
“Right.” So everyone knew she’d gone to rehab. Fine, she could deal with that. “Well, I’m glad you’re all right,” Claire said, and when Meghan didn’t respond, she turned and left the kitchen, her head held high.
Chapter twenty-five
Rachel
Rachel hadn’t been intending to go to the pub quiz. She hadn’t gone in several weeks; somehow, amidst all the demands of life, the weekly entertainment had lost its cheap allure.
“Claire West is going to the pub quiz?” she repeated when Lily told her about her plans. “She organized a team?”
