by Sandie Jones
The door unlocks and a tip-tap of shoes crosses the tiled floor. Water runs and the hand dryer blasts hot air into the tiny space. When it turns off, Rachel waits for the door to open and close, but there’s only silence. No movement. No tip-tap. Nothing – just an ominous stillness.
It’s beginning to feel awkward, like a standoff, with only a flimsy sheet of Formica to witness who will break cover first.
Rachel doesn’t want a confrontation, but she’s not going to hide in a toilet all night. She smooths down the fabric of her dress and takes a deep breath as she prises the lock and opens the door. If Ali is surprised it’s her, she doesn’t show it. In fact, she’s standing purposefully against the basin, as if waiting for her.
‘Excuse me,’ says Rachel, tightly.
Ali moves aside and exhales. ‘I just wanted to say I’m sorry,’ she says.
Rachel rests her hands on the edge of the sink, lets her head fall and laughs.
‘What’s so funny?’ asks Ali.
‘Is that honestly all you’ve got to say? You’re not usually one to be lost for words. I expected more from you, quite frankly.’
Ali looks at her quizzically. ‘Has he told you?’
Rachel, feeling her temper fraying, turns to face her, their noses just an inch apart. ‘Yes,’ she shouts. ‘Yes, he’s told me.’
‘And you think it’s funny?’
‘If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry,’ says Rachel. ‘Because it is so fucked up, that I can’t even begin to understand why you would have done it. What did you think you were going to achieve? Did you really think you were going to coerce Jack into submission?’
‘I don’t know what I was thinking,’ says Ali, her bottom lip beginning to wobble. ‘I just wanted him to be honest with you, because believe it or not Rachel, I really like you.’
Rachel laughs sarcastically again. ‘Wow, really? Well, then I’d hate to see what you do to your enemies.’
‘What are you going to do?’ asks Ali.
‘About this?’
Ali nods nervously.
‘Well, we’re going to ride this out, for Will’s sake, while we’re here, but once we get home, I don’t want you anywhere near me or my family.’
‘Seriously?’ asks Ali, tearfully.
‘Seriously,’ mimics Rachel. ‘Though, I can’t guarantee that Jack will be able to hold back until then. He has every intention of telling Will what’s been going on.’
Ali screws her face up. ‘Why does he need to bother Will with this? I’ve kept it to myself for months, out of respect for you and, for some illogical reason, Jack. Why would either of you want anyone to know about this? He really has no shame, does he?’
Rachel leans in towards Ali, her teeth grinding against each other, in an effort to stop the vicious diatribe that is threatening to project from her mouth. ‘If you come anywhere near my husband again, I will not be held responsible for my actions.’
‘I assume you’re going to say the same to her.’ Ali spits the last word out as if it’s venom.
Rachel stops and looks at her, her patience hanging by a thread. ‘Her?’
Ali dries her tears and looks at her wide-eyed. ‘He hasn’t told you, has he?’
Rachel doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of saying no.
‘Oh my God,’ says Ali, looking at Rachel’s slack-jawed expression. ‘The bastard’s not told you the truth.’
Rachel straightens herself up. ‘He’s told me what I need to know,’ she says, suddenly feeling like a fish out of water. ‘That you’ve been harassing him for months, years even, refusing to take no for an answer.’
‘You think I’ve been going after Jack?’
‘I don’t think. I know. And it all makes sense, the constant innuendos, the smutty gifts – though, how you pulled off the necklace ruse this morning, I don’t know, because there’s no way you could possibly have known that I would find the receipt.’
Ali fingers the heart hanging around her neck. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Don’t play dumb with me,’ spits Rachel. ‘Did you think that by pretending something was going on, it would make it true?’
‘I don’t . . .’ stutters Ali, shaking her head. ‘I don’t understand.’
Rachel laughs cattily. ‘Taking him off at the airport, asking him inflammatory questions, giving him inappropriate gifts, trying to go for a run with him. It’s desperate behaviour by someone who isn’t used to being told no.’
Ali closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
‘But guess what?’ Rachel goes on. ‘He’s not interested.’
‘I didn’t do any of that to try and make you think something was going on between us,’ says Ali, looking confused. ‘I wanted to put him on the spot; to make him feel under pressure to do the right thing. The questions and gifts were all designed to let him know that time was running out.’
‘You gave him a cock covered in love hearts, for Christ’s sake.’
Ali sighs. ‘I gave him something that illustrated a strong moral compass; to show that those who have done nothing wrong, have nothing to fear. But those who do . . .’ She trails off.
Rachel shakes her head. ‘And trying to get him on his own all the time? How do you justify that?’
‘I just needed to talk to him in the hope that he’d see sense,’ says Ali. She looks at Rachel, her eyes pleading to be believed. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about how it might have looked, but I can assure you, it was never meant to allude to something going on between us.’
Rachel’s eyes narrow. ‘So what was it done for?’
‘As a warning,’ says Ali, ‘To let him know that if he didn’t tell you, I would.’ Her voice tails off at the end.
‘Tell me what?’ Rachel shouts, losing her patience.
‘That he’s having an affair.’
‘For God’s sake, what is wrong with you? He’s not having an affair with you.’
‘Not with me, no,’ says Ali.
Rachel laughs incredulously. ‘Well, who the hell with then?’
Ali looks upwards, as if asking for help. ‘Well?’ shouts Rachel impatiently.
‘Paige,’ says Ali, in barely more than a whisper. ‘He’s having an affair with Paige.’
The floor spins and Rachel feels like she’s being sucked into a vortex, as she falls backwards. Ali grabs hold of her arms and backs her onto the closed toilet seat. Rachel’s hands instinctively strike out, looking for something to grip onto, but all they can find is the frictionless cubicle wall which they slide down.
‘What . . .’ she starts when she eventually finds her voice.
‘I’m sorry,’ says Ali. ‘I wanted him to tell you.’
Rachel pushes herself against the cistern, hoping and praying that someone comes in and drags this psychopath off her.
‘What kind of fucked-up world do you live in?’ hisses Rachel. ‘You can’t help yourself, can you?’
‘I’m telling you the truth,’ says Ali.
‘You’re incapable of it,’ cries Rachel. ‘You’ve done nothing but lie since we’ve been here.’
‘I’ve only ever tried to protect the people I care about,’ says Ali.
‘The only person you care about is yourself,’ says Rachel, pushing herself up and walking towards the door, unsteady on her feet. ‘You’re nothing but a fucking liar, and I’m warning you to stay away from me, my family and my friends.’
‘She’s not your friend,’ is the last thing Rachel hears as the door closes behind her and she finds herself, dazed, on the edge of a dance floor filled with people with their hands aloft, singing to Neil Diamond. Jack, Paige and Noah are staring at her, their faces etched with concern, from the other side.
22
Without even realizing what she’s doing, Rachel finds herself standing behind the DJ deck, with him looking at her expectantly.
‘Can I borrow the mic?’ she says.
‘Eh?’ he questions, not understanding her.
‘Gi
ve me the microphone,’ she says in clear, clipped syllables.
She reaches across his turntable to pick up the bulbous-headed mic and taps it three times with her finger before sliding the needle off ‘Sweet Caroline’. The music comes to an abrupt stop as the scratching grates around the restaurant and guests cover their ears.
They turn to Rachel, waiting for her to say something, but she looks at them blankly, not knowing what she’s going to say herself. Ali comes out of the cloakroom, looking around in confusion. She freezes when her eyes settle on Rachel.
‘I just want to talk about Ali for a second,’ says Rachel, her voice projecting further than she’d expected. Her mouth dries up as she moves the mic further from her lips.
Everyone’s faces look strange, like they’re staring at her from inside a bottle, their features distorted by the curvature of the glass. Maria’s is the only one she recognizes, though she can’t quite read her expression. Is it panic?
‘You see,’ Rachel goes on. ‘She’s not quite who you all think she is.’
Jack moves across the floor towards her, like he’s skating on ice, whilst Ali just stays rooted to the spot, poleaxed, with her mouth open.
‘Please tell me it’s not just me,’ Rachel asks the sea of faces, in a room where you could hear a pin drop.
‘Rachel,’ Jack says into the bewildered silence.
‘What?’ she snaps.
‘Don’t do this.’
‘Why not? They need to know. Everyone needs to know.’
Jack laughs awkwardly, as if he’s dealing with a drunk, forgetful elderly relative. ‘But now’s not the time,’ he says. ‘Later. We’re supposed to do this later.’
Reality hits her then, as Jack’s attempt to pretend she’s gone too early on a planned announcement sinks in.
The forty or so gawping onlookers suddenly come into sharp focus with Will at the forefront, smiling as he waits naively for Rachel to sing Ali’s praises. How can she shatter whatever warped illusion he has of the woman he’s just married?
She almost drops the mic in shock, unable to believe that she’s taken leave of her senses. What the hell was she thinking?
‘Sorry,’ she mumbles as she shakily hands the microphone back to the DJ. Jack takes hold of her arm and guides her over to where Noah and Paige are standing.
‘Have you completely lost your mind?’ he hisses, through a fixed grin.
‘She can’t keep being allowed to get away with it,’ says Rachel, still defiant, but grateful that somebody has stopped her from saying anything more. ‘I bet everybody here will be relieved it’s not just them she does it to.’
‘What the hell’s going on?’ asks Paige, looking from Jack to Rachel and back again.
‘God knows how many relationships she’s destroyed – friendships she’s ruined,’ blurts out Rachel. ‘I’m not going to let her do it to mine.’
Paige looks at Jack with raised eyebrows. ‘I thought I told you to sort this out.’
‘Oh, it’s got even better since then,’ says Rachel, no longer caring who knows what anymore. ‘Apparently it’s not Ali he’s having an affair with.’
‘O-kay,’ says Paige hesitantly, looking at Jack. ‘So, that’s a good thing, no?’
‘Do you want to know who she says he is having an affair with?’ Rachel’s talking as if Jack isn’t there. It’s easier that way, as it fools her into thinking they’re not talking about the man she’s loved for the past twenty years.
All three of them look at her expectantly.
‘You!’ she says, laughing and pointing at Paige.
‘What?’ the three of them say, in unison.
‘That’s what I mean,’ says Rachel. ‘She’s wrecking relationships. You should have let me say what I was going to say.’
Paige looks like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘Well, that’s just . . .’ she starts. ‘I don’t even have the words . . .’
‘Well, where has she got that idea from?’ asks Noah, looking from Paige to Jack and back again.
‘It’s a long story,’ sighs Jack. ‘But it goes without saying that it’s completely untrue.’
‘Of course it is!’ snaps Paige.
‘It seems she’s got form,’ says Rachel, the four of them staring at Ali across the restaurant. ‘This is what she does. She must be so unhappy with herself that she throws hand grenades into as many other people’s lives as she can.’
Paige’s lips pull into a tight line as she looks Ali up and down, her hostility apparent. ‘She knows I’ve never liked her,’ she says snidely. ‘I guess this is what she does when someone doesn’t dance to her tune.’
‘Oh, come on,’ says Noah. ‘This is all a bit melodramatic isn’t it? I mean, I know she’s a livewire and sails a little close to the edge sometimes, but she’s never crossed the line.’
‘That’s because, like most men, all you see is her sweet smile and big tits,’ says Paige, crudely.
‘Oh, right.’ Noah laughs tightly. ‘She’s one of those women, is she? How do you describe them again, Paige?’
She looks at him blankly, but there’s tension pulsing in her jawline.
‘Ah, that’s it,’ says Noah, as if he’s just remembered. ‘You’d refer to her as a man’s woman.’
‘Well, I think this quite clearly demonstrates that she’s not a woman’s woman,’ says Paige.
‘So, that’s all this is, is it?’ he asks. ‘A spiteful vendetta against you because you’re a fellow female who’s dared to show your obvious disdain towards her?’
‘Clearly,’ snaps Paige. ‘What else would it be?’
‘Okay,’ says Rachel, stepping in. She hadn’t quite thought about the effect her announcement would have on Paige and Noah. ‘Look, I don’t think it’s anything against Paige per se. It’s a much bigger picture that centres around Jack, it seems.’
Noah raises his eyebrows in a silent question.
‘It’s honestly too complicated to go into now,’ says Rachel.
‘I’m going to talk to her,’ says Paige, going to shoulder her way past Noah.
‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea,’ says Jack, grabbing hold of her arm. ‘There’s all sorts of things going on that you don’t know about. For Will’s sake, I suggest we all just get through the rest of the evening, as best we know how, making as little fuss as possible.’
Paige laughs acerbically. ‘What? And let her get away with telling my best friend that I’m having an affair with her husband?’ She’s still tugging at Jack to release his grip on her.
‘For the moment, yes,’ says Jack authoritatively.
‘But you are going to deal with this?’ says Paige. It’s a rhetorical question.
‘And you are going to tell Will what’s been going on?’ adds Rachel, piling the pressure on him.
Noah snorts. ‘Isn’t it a bit late for that?’
‘I’ll deal with Will,’ says Jack. ‘But not now.’
‘Isn’t this just wonderful?’ says Ali’s mum, as she approaches them, misreading the mood completely.
They all fix false smiles on their faces, with the men already beginning to edge discreetly away so they don’t get caught up in whatever else she’s about to say.
‘I mean it’s just breathtaking,’ she goes on, looking out across the fuchsia cliffs as they descend into a sea of the same colour. A full moon has now replaced the sun, but it’s the neon pink of lasers that’s reflected in the inky black water.
‘It is,’ agrees Rachel, at a loss for anything else to say.
‘She so deserves this,’ says Maria, as if to herself.
‘I’m going to get another drink,’ says Paige, curtly, obviously unable to listen to anyone singing Ali’s praises. Rachel’s going to find it hard to stomach as well if Maria intends to go down that line.
As Paige moves away, Maria turns to face Rachel and looks at her so intently that it makes Rachel shift her stance in an effort to snap her out of it.
‘Please don’t hate h
er,’ says Maria.
‘Ex-cuse me?’ says Rachel, unable to believe that Ali’s mother is in on this ridiculous charade as well. ‘Do you have any idea what she’s been doing?’
Maria nods. ‘She’s told me what’s going on and I’m sorry, I truly am, because you seem like such a nice person.’
‘Mrs Foley, before you . . .’ starts Rachel.
‘Please, call me Maria,’ she says, putting her hand on Rachel’s arm. ‘It might not seem like it right now, but she’s only trying to do the right thing by you.’
Rachel looks at her through narrowed eyes, trying to put herself in her position as a mother. Without knowing what part of Ali’s catalogue of deception Maria is alluding to, it’s hard to judge whether she’d try and make the same excuses for Josh if she had to. Does she know, for example, that her daughter has been essentially blackmailing her former boss? Trying to force him into a predicament that he doesn’t want to be in, or else she’ll tell his wife that it’s happening anyway? Does she know that now Ali’s on the ropes, she’s accused another woman of having an affair with him? An allegation so potentially damaging that it could have a devastating effect on two families.
‘No disrespect, but I don’t think you have any idea what your daughter is capable of.’
‘You know,’ says Maria, leaning in. ‘When I had my accident, if Alison hadn’t been there for me, I wouldn’t be here today.’
Rachel looks around, hoping for an escape opportunity to present itself. This woman is clearly as deluded as her daughter.
‘When they got me into the hospital, I had a twenty per cent chance of survival,’ she goes on. ‘Unbeknownst to me, Alison had already been told that I had a hundred per cent chance of losing my leg.’
The admission takes Rachel so by surprise that she can’t help but look at the two shins and sandalled feet that appear from below Maria’s long floral skirt.
‘False,’ she says, tapping on the prosthetic.
‘I’m sorry,’ says Rachel. ‘I didn’t realize.’
‘As I say, if Alison hadn’t made the sacrifice that she did, I honestly wouldn’t be here now, so just know that whatever she does, it’s always from a good place.’
‘Sacrifice?’ asks Rachel, unable to help herself. ‘If she hadn’t been driving, you wouldn’t be in a wheelchair.’