As he rushes toward them, his legs look like they’re wading through syrup while the upper half of his body falls over them in its effort to get there. Just as he’s about to reach the shadows standing on the cliff edge, he seems to run out of steam, as if he’s suddenly aware of what it might look like if somebody were to put two and two together. For starters, they might question why he’s left his wife’s side to run to another woman’s aid. But the debate that’s raging in Rachel’s own head is, which one of them is he trying to rescue?
She watches as the three of them stand there and wonders if this is the moment that her life implodes. She imagines Jack and Paige looking at each other, openmouthed in shock, as Ali reveals what she saw and heard last night. Her heart beats double time, waiting for Jack to howl into the darkness like an animal who’s just had its newborn snatched by a predator. Even if Josh is his, she’ll never be able to make this right. She’s suddenly aware that despite everything that Ali has done, nothing compares to the consequences of what one night, twenty years ago, could bring to bear.
Her brain wants to run to them, but her body won’t let her; too scared of what she will be met with when she gets there. She looks at the fifty or so meters between them and wonders how so little distance can stand between her and her future. Would it make a difference if she were to offer her heartfelt apologies? Would it save her marriage? Her friendship with Paige if she were able to defend her actions? If she explained why she honestly thought that burying the remote possibility was the best thing to do—for all of them.
A hand slides into hers and she turns to see Noah standing beside her, his vexed expression matching her own.
Despite knowing she should pull her hand away, she leaves it there for a moment, because she needs to. It reminds her that there is one person who might still be standing beside her when this is all over. She can’t help but wonder if he might ultimately be the most important.
Suddenly, Paige emerges from the darkness, her face like thunder, as she strides toward them purposefully, with Jack trailing behind her. Rachel drops Noah’s hand as if she’s been given an electric shock and goes toward her.
“Bitch,” snaps Paige, when their two paths collide.
An icy hand reaches into Rachel’s chest and wraps itself around her heart, squeezing until she can no longer feel it pumping. She goes to defend herself, but her mouth has dried up and she doesn’t know where she’d even begin.
“You need to get out of my way,” Paige says to Noah, who is blocking her in a misguided attempt at placating her.
Rachel looks at him wide-eyed as they both silently acknowledge the deluge they’re trying to hold back.
“I mean it…” says Paige, locking eyes with him.
“Paige…” starts Rachel.
Paige spins around to face her, with flared nostrils. “What?” she yells.
“I’m sorry,” starts Rachel, terrified by this version of her best friend, one she hasn’t seen before. But then she doesn’t know what else she should have expected. “I can’t begin to understand how you must be feeling…”
“You have no fucking idea,” says Paige.
Rachel wants to shrink into herself, away from the toxic atmosphere of everyone having held a secret in for so long that it now feels like they’re all about to spontaneously combust.
“I just…” says Rachel, not knowing where to even start. “I just want you to know…”
Paige shakes her head, as if in an effort to clear the poisonous thoughts that are trapped there. “I’m sorry,” she says, sighing deeply. “I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”
“Wh … what?” asks Rachel, numbly, as her knees threaten to buckle with relief. She holds onto the door to the restaurant for support, not wanting to count her chickens before they’ve hatched. “What happened?”
Paige takes a deep breath in and out. “She really is quite something,” she says. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so divisive in all my life.”
“What did she say?” Rachel asks, before tensing her shoulders up in the hope that they might reach her ears and render her deaf to the answer.
“I won’t let her get away with the lies she’s peddling,” she says, shaking her head. “She’s going to pay.”
“I can understand you being angry,” says Rachel. “But this isn’t the way to deal with it.”
“You honestly expect me to let that liar get away with it?” asks Paige, exasperated.
“No,” says Rachel, daring to believe that Ali’s not told her about Noah and Josh. “No, of course not, but there is a time and a place. And here and now isn’t it.”
Paige suddenly grabs hold of Rachel’s arms and turns her to face her. “You know that Jack and I aren’t…” It’s as if she can’t bring herself to say it. “You do know that, don’t you?”
“Of course,” says Rachel, her voice high-pitched.
“Are you okay?” asks Jack, coming up to them. It’s only when Rachel turns to look at him that she realizes he’s talking to Paige.
Rachel stands there, between her husband and her best friend, yet feels like she’s a million miles from anyone. Jack’s fraught with an unnerving panic. Paige is as incensed as Rachel’s ever seen her. Both of them are seemingly oblivious to the fact that even while she’s trying to comfort them, it’s her world that’s falling apart at the seams.
Guests are beginning to bristle, as if they know something’s amiss, but are not quite sure what. It would help enormously if the DJ put a record on to distract everyone’s attention from what may or may not be going on outside. But in the absence of music, they’re craning their necks to get a better view.
There’s no escaping the fact that Will is clearly comforting Ali, as he wipes her tears and looks at her earnestly. Eventually, after taking a few deep breaths, she comes back into the restaurant to a round of applause.
“Ah,” says the DJ. “Here she is.”
Will accompanies her to the middle of the dance floor, keeping her close to him. Rachel knows him well enough to see that he’s concerned about what’s just gone on, but Ali’s attempting to make light of it by forcing a smile.
“So, here we have it,” says the DJ, in broken English, blissfully unaware of the edginess that’s crept into the proceedings. “A surprise for you, Ali.”
The big TV behind him comes to life and David Friedman is on the screen, sitting in a monochrome-designed room, wearing his trademark jeans and white T-shirt.
“Ali,” he says into the camera, as everyone gasps and turns to look at her. It seems that Rachel isn’t the only one who thought the David Friedman story was just another far-fetched fantasy that Ali had concocted as truth. She can’t help but wish that it was.
David flashes a megawatt smile. “I just wanted to send you a message to say that I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there. I know you’ll have a fantastic time and I wish you and Will many congratulations as you embark on this new and exciting chapter of your lives. Will, you’re a lucky devil and you better treat her right, otherwise you’ll have me to answer to.”
Will smiles and pulls Ali in even closer.
“You think you’re coming back to work next week,” David goes on. “But as much as I need you here, I’m going to have to muddle through without you, because you’re going to Barbados!”
Ali cups her hands to her mouth in shock. “What?” she says, looking at Will with tears in her eyes.
Will nods. “We’re staying at his place for a week,” he says, as everyone cheers and claps.
“Oh my God,” says Ali, disbelievingly.
Rachel’s stomach turns over as reality hits home. The knowledge that Ali had told the truth about knowing David, even playing down how closely she clearly works with him, goes against every natural instinct in her body. This isn’t supposed to happen. This isn’t who Ali is. She’s a liar and a fantasist—who tells untruths as easily as reciting the alphabet.
Despite the oppressive heat in the restaurant, Rachel’s blood feels icy cold, her fingers and toes numb. She wiggles them just to check that they’re still functioning, so disconnected does she feel to her body. Her brain wants to fast-track forward, desperate to join up the dots, but she refuses to allow it because she doesn’t want to see the picture it will draw.