‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I mumbled. ‘Just a bit… under the weather. Where’s Betsy?’
‘She’s over at your mum’s. We were knocking for ages at your door, but there was no answer.’
His voice was so loud, every word made my head pound.
‘Look, just take a day off if you’re not well. There’s no need for you to be watching her all the time. Let’s share the work.’
Just a couple of weeks into my role as a co-guardian and I was too hungover to perform my duties. I really was not up to this. Amy had way overestimated me, and she would never have left me in charge if she knew what I was really like. I was just starting, and I was already failing.
Standing under the hot water felt good. I scrubbed my skin until I was pink all over. I was beginning to feel a little better, until I got out of the shower and saw that I had a missed call from Jake. I shuddered. I was starting to perk up, but there was no way I was ready to talk to him yet. I slouched back onto the sofa, exhausted from the effort of showering.
As I sat there, wondering what to do with myself, the phone pinged again. It was a message from Rachel:
I’ve got a day off. Are you at home with Betsy? Can I pop round? xxx
My heart sank, and I felt nauseous at the prospect of seeing her now that I knew what Amy had done. I sighed. This was the universe punishing me. I had to face her sooner or later – might as well do it when I was already feeling rotten.
I’ll come over to you, I texted back. Remind me of your address? I’ll bring the coffee xo
I pulled on my jeans with Amy’s big coat and a beanie and headed out. After last night’s rain, the air was clean and the sky was bright, drained of clouds.
The coffee from Clarke’s bakery wasn’t anything special, but it was infinitely better than the jar of freeze-dried instant granules that Mum had given me. I decided I had to get one of those Nespresso machines for Puffin Cottage – maintaining my caffeine standards was non-negotiable. I bought two cups and two hot bacon rolls to go.
The main road cut through the centre of Seahouses and across Harbour Road, dividing the village into four quarters. Rachel and Phil lived on The Green, the small housing estate at the back of the village that had been built in the seventies as our part of the coast had grown in popularity among weekenders, inflating the prices of homes closer to the sea.
Dad used to complain about the people who snapped up the best properties to only use them a few days a month, pushing up house prices beyond the reach of everyone else. People on local salaries could just about afford to buy on The Green.
I walked along their street, looking out for number twenty. Rachel and Phil’s place was a modest semi-detached, and one of the smarter houses on the street with its manicured garden and glossy white door.
‘Those smell gorgeous,’ Rachel said, taking a coffee from me and leading me inside.
The front half of the living room was dominated by a black leather sofa facing a widescreen TV, while the back was set up as a dining area. Rachel had been ironing her nurse’s uniform and it hung from the top of the dresser like a ghost. A fake fire was roaring with golden flames, the mantelpiece above it crowded with framed photos jostling for position around a carriage clock that took centre stage. I ran my finger along the ledge. There was Rachel and Amy, Rachel with Amy’s kids, Rachel and Phil… I picked up their wedding photo for a closer look.
‘That’s when Phil had more hair and I was still ginger,’ Rachel said with a laugh.
I carefully put the picture back and joined her on the sofa. Rachel handed me my bacon roll on a plate and I took a sip from my steaming cup of coffee.
‘We got married in 2006. I was only twenty-four. We thought we were so grown up.’
‘Did you not want kids?’ I said, before catching myself. ‘God, sorry, I…’
Rachel shrugged and dismissed me with a wave. ‘Don’t worry about it. I think me and you are close enough by now to talk about things like that!’ She gave me a brave smile. ‘I mean, we tried for years, but it just never happened. We didn’t have the money for more IVF, and in the end, we had to decide that we were enough for each other. By then I’d met your Amy and become an honorary aunt to her three.’
‘How did you meet?’ I was sure Amy had told me, but I couldn’t remember, and now that I knew about Phil and Amy’s affair, I had so many more questions about her friendship with Rachel.
‘We moved to Seahouses right after we got married. Phil’s grandma had a caravan up here and he used to spend weekends with her when he was a boy. He was taking over the garage and I was working in a care home near Newcastle, but I wanted a job closer to home. I thought that would be better once the baby arrived. I started working at the hospital and I met Amy in my first week. A few people confused us for sisters, which gave us a good laugh. We just clicked, I suppose…’
Her eyes were filling up. She turned from me, directing her attention out of the window at some faraway point. It was true, I thought: Rachel did look like Amy, with the same light brown hair – just like mine used to be, before I discovered highlights – and cut into a long bob, similar to how Amy wore hers. In fact, she bore more of a resemblance to my sister than I did, these days.
I changed the
