‘Which coming from you is a generous ten in my book. What’s his name?’
‘Blake Darnell.’
‘Nooo!That’s a made-up name if ever it was. Oh, my sparkling white teeth! This gets better by the second. Tell me more.’
‘No, it stops right now. And since you’ve extracted every last mortifying detail out of me, explain about your teeth. Should you be consuming sugary sweets so soon after having them done?’
Rachel shrugged and popped another one in her mouth. ‘A girl’s gotta eat.’
‘Hmmm … and the reason for this act of vanity, which doubtless cost a middling-sized fortune, would be what exactly?’
‘In readiness for meeting my in-laws.’
Her hand poised over the bag of Haribos, Jenna looked at Rachel, her face wearing a satisfying expression of surprise. ‘In-laws? Have you gone off and got married in secret?’
‘You know as well as I do, that’s never going to happen. When I marry you’ll know all about it because you’ll be helping to organise it, as well as being my chief bridesmaid.’
‘Yeah, that’s right, I’ll be in charge of half a dozen bridesmaids following you up the aisle and we’ll all be forced to wear hideous claret-coloured dresses with emerald green sashes.’
Rachel grimaced. ‘I think you’re describing your own distasteful wedding day. But to anwer your question, I’m meeting Paul’s parents for the first time next weekend.’
‘For that you’ve had your teeth whitened?’
‘I want to make a good impression.’ She saw the disapproving expression on Jenna’s face. ‘There’s nothing wrong in wanting to look my best.’
‘Rachel, you always look your best. You couldn’t look anythingbutyour best. Are you nervous about meeting them?’
‘Not at all. Well, maybe a little. But only because it’s important.’
‘How important?’
‘I think it’s a sign that Paul is getting serious, that, you know, he’s finally over his ex and isn’t worried that our relationship is a rebound thing. It’s a step in the right direction, and after I’ve met his parents, I’ll take him home to meet Mum and Dad. Mum’s been on at me for ages to meet him.’
Jenna’s expression had switched from disapproving to dubious. ‘Remind me,’ she said, ‘you’ve been a couple for what, six months, or is it longer?’
‘Six months and twenty-one days.’
‘Not that you’re counting. So it’s taken him this long to figure out you’re easily the greatest thing to come into his life?’
‘Are you going to be like this all weekend, putting a downer on everything? No wonder that bloke in the office called you prickly!’
‘I’m sorry. And I seem to be saying that a lot today. I don’t know what’s the matter with me.’
Rachel sniggered. ‘I do. You’re not getting any sex, that’s your problem.’
‘Oh, tell everyone on the train why don’t you?’ hissed Jenna, looking around the carriage to see if anyone had heard.
Her voice low, Rachel said, ‘It’s true though, isn’t it?’
‘I’d sooner put up with celibacy than be stuck with the wrong man,’ responded Jenna, turning to look out of the window.
Rachel took it as her cue to keep quiet, which she’d be the first to say wasn’t easy for her. Nor was letting somebody else have the last word. She pulled out the paperback she’d brought with her; it was one of her mother’s book club choices and so far she was finding it heavy going. Secretly she preferred the type of book Jenna had earlier dismissed. She liked to be entertained, not lectured or preached at.
Some time later, when the train stopped at Manningtree and the carriage emptied by half, and she’d read the same page several times over, Rachel gave up on the book. Next to her Jenna had her laptop out and appeared to be working. Rachel rarely worked outside of the office if she could help it. Or even inside the office if she could get away with it. She wasn’t a dedicated career girl like Jenna; her job in the HR department of an insurance firm was a means to an end; it paid the bills and enabled her to indulge in her favourite pastime, that of online shopping.
Recently work interested her less and less; she was, to put it bluntly, waiting for the next stage in her life to begin. She wanted a husband – or a committed partner – and a family, and not necessarily in that order. Without realising it was happening, she had reached an age when she desperately wanted a baby. Her treacherous hormones screamed out for one, made her do crazy things like look longingly at toddlers in pushchairs, or had her staring gooey-eyed at tiny babies strapped to their fathers’ chests. She had even started browsing baby clothes online, which had to be a browse too far. Not a word of this had she dared so much as hint at to Paul. If he knew how fast and loudly her body clock was ticking, he’d probably run a mile.
She closed her eyes and thinking of Paul and the all-important meeting with his parents next weekend, she gave herself up to the familiar fantasy of her wedding – of the pretty church at Linston decked out with flowers, and the boat to take her along the river to Linston End where there would be a fabulous marquee on the lawn.
