“Obviously.” She felt as if she’d jump-started their relationship, and not in a good way. “Look, I’m tired and I should probably go home. Long day tomorrow...”
“Rachel, it’s eight thirty. How about a drink?”
“I just left the pub.”
“We’ll go to Raymond’s, then.”
“I thought you said it was overrated.”
“Did I?” He smiled ruefully. “You must have thought me a complete snob.”
“I did, actually. And a pompous ass.”
“Dare I hope that your opinion has changed?”
“A little. Maybe.” She smiled, exhaustion and hope crashing around inside her so she didn’t know what she felt. “All right. One drink. But then I should get back to Meghan.”
“What’s up with Meghan?” Andrew asked as they fell in step together and started walking down the high street towards the old train station. As they emerged from between the terraced houses on either side of the street, the sky opened up and they paused for a moment to watch the sun sinking towards the sea, the puddles in the sheep pastures glinting under the golden light. A brisk wind was coming off the water, and Rachel shivered slightly before walking on.
“I don’t know what’s going on with Meghan,” she said. “But she’s not herself. Snappier and stressed and she’s lost weight. And there’s a man involved somehow.”
Andrew held the door open for her, and as she walked into Raymond’s, the quiet elegance of the place soothed her frayed nerves. “This is nice. I’ve never been here before.”
Andrew ordered their drinks while Rachel sat on the deep, squashy sofa in front of the fireplace and leaned her head backagainst the velvet cushions. She felt as if she could fall asleep. When he returned a few minutes later with their glasses of wine, her eyes were closed.
“Is this going to put you over the edge?” he asked as he handed her a glass of wine.
Rachel opened her eyes and took it with a murmured thanks. “Maybe. You might have to carry me home.”
“I wouldn’t mind.” His gaze held hers for one tingling moment before Rachel looked away. She wanted so much to lean on Andrew, to have someone to share the burden of care that had been placed squarely on her shoulders, but she was afraid to ask. Afraid to trust, because she’d seen what had happened before when she’d relied on her father to pick up the slack. He’d scarpered. He’d broken her heart.
“So. Tomorrow,” Andrew said. “What time are you meant to pick up your mum?”
“In the morning.” Rachel’s stomach churned at the thought. “We have a home nurse coming for the first time tomorrow afternoon. But I honestly don’t know how we’re going to cope, Andrew. When I’ve visited my mum in hospital she’s barely been able to move or speak. And she can’t...” She swallowed hard, a blush rising to face. “Control herself. If you know what I mean. So that will be two people in the house in nappies.”
“You can’t do it all yourself, Rachel.”
“But I think I might have to.” She could feel a lump forming in her throat, and she took a sip of wine, hoping to dissolve it. It only got bigger. “There’s no one else. Lily needs to study, and Meghan is barely holding it together.”
“What about me? What about Claire?”
She looked at him in surprise, discomfited by the question. “Last time I checked you live in Macclesfield and Claire...”
“And Claire?”
“Claire works at the post office shop.”
“Only four days a week.”
Rachel took a sip of wine, her mind spinning. “She hasn’t offered.”
“I think she’d like to help.” Andrew paused. “And I think it would be good for her.”
“So this is for Claire’s benefit?” Rachel asked, her voice sharper than she meant it to be.
Andrew regarded her evenly. “Why can’t it be a win-win situation?”
“I don’t know.” The thought of asking for Claire’s help, depending on her, made Rachel feel uncomfortable. Exposed. Claire had dropped her once. She didn’t feel like being dropped again, especially at a time when she could so easily start to rely on her. On anyone who was willing to step up. “How could she help, anyway?”
