Chapter 4

A fourth major event happened four weeks or so before Christmas, on a Friday in November. The two of us went to my favourite restaurant to celebrate Cassie’s birthday. She always told me it was the day her age caught up with mine a little: instead of being six years younger, she was five!

We had finished our delicious main courses when Cassie looked surprised.

“Hey,” she said. “You remember months ago a woman came to the flat looking for you? Well she’s just walked in.”

I looked up, and there she was: Rachel. She was with a tall good looking man, and they seemed very close, she was laughing at something he had said, and they were hand in hand as they were led to their table at the far end of the restaurant.

“That’s Rachel,” I said.

“Gary’s Ex?”

“Yes.”

“Bloody Hell!”

I watched them as they took their seats. He took her hand on the table and they looked every inch a couple. They were too far away for me to hear, but he ordered their drinks with the assurance of someone who knew her wishes well, who was intimate with her.

And I was jealous! No doubt about it. She was divorcing Gary and couldn’t be bothered to tell me. I should have realised where I really stood with her: nowhere. Well, I mentally shrugged, she was nothing to do with me any more – as I had told Cassie, she was out of my league and always had been.

My expression must have given me away, for Cassie was all caring.

“Hit you hard?” she said. “Actually seeing her with someone else, after all you did for her.”

“I told you, I’m not her type. She was pushed together with me, and severed all contact as soon as Gary ended it. Couldn’t get away fast enough. I’m realistic enough to know where I stand.”

“You should go and say hello,” she said.

“No I shouldn’t,” I snapped. “She has no interest in me, and I don’t want to talk to her.”

“Roddy, she did come looking for you, before Gary gave you that black eye. She wanted to see you then.”

“She knew my business number, she knew my mobile number, and my home number. She did not call. Her visit was a spur of the moment thing, soon regretted. So let’s leave it at that.”

I was relieved Rachel was turned three quarters away from me and he was facing me. I was also relieved they were at the opposite end of the restaurant from us. With luck we could escape without her seeing us. She was so absorbed in him, perhaps she would not look round the restaurant. She didn’t.

Cassie looked disappointed, but she knew my tone of voice, and we changed the subject. However, she is also stubborn. After the dessert, she excused herself to go to the ladies’, and to do so, of course she had to pass their table. On the way back, of course she had to stop and talk to Rachel, who of course turned and saw me.

Cassie came back smiling so innocently!

“No I didn’t!” she laughed. “Rachel recognised me and asked about you. She’s coming over.”

I looked up and there she was, beautiful beyond belief. Her boyfriend had stayed in his seat. He looked disgruntled. I could understand that: I felt the same way.

“Hello, Rod,” she said tentatively.

“Hello Rachel,” I said as coldly as I could manage and without a smile. “I believe you’ve met my sister Cassie.”

She looked non-plussed, even upset. “Cassie’s your sister? I thought–”

“He’s the best brother a girl could have,” Cassie gushed. “I’ve had some man trouble and he’s looked after me.”

“Yes,” Rachel said, and looked wistful. “He would. How’ve you been Rod?”

“You mean since Gary beat me up?” I said quite abruptly.

“Pardon?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” I snapped. “He came to my office and knocked me off my chair, black eye, concussion. You begged me not to tell him about our little trick; shame you couldn’t do the same. He blames me for your breakup.”

She looked distressed. “Honestly, Rod, I knew nothing of that. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said with a resigned air. “It was weeks ago, you’ll be a free woman soon, I suppose. I see you’ve lost no time getting back in the dating game. Hadn’t you better get back to your boyfriend? He’s looking unhappy. Wouldn’t want to come between you and a lover again. I suffered enough the first time. Goodbye Rachel.”

I turned to Cassie, who looked amazed. I saw her eyes flick across and knew that Rachel was going back to her boyfriend.

“What’s got into you Roderick?” she admonished me. “That was so rude! I didn’t know you could be like that. i don’t like it.”

I knew I was in trouble when she used my full name – she knew I hated it. My mother did that too all though my childhood.

I also followed Rachel’s progress to her table. She did not sit down, but called for her coat. Her boyfriend was arguing that he had not finished, but she was hell bent on leaving and reluctantly he paid and they left. Rachel shot me an unhappy smile, and he scowled at me.

“She had it coming,” I muttered. “Never came near me and then waltzes up to me and passes the time as if we were old friends after what she did? What did you expect?”

“Rod,” she said firmly. “Get the bill and let’s go.”

We went back to my flat in silence.

“Drink?” she asked.

“Whisky,” I said.

“Please?” She sounded like our mother!

“Whisky please,” I said petulantly and then couldn’t help laughing; she really did sound exactly like our mother, and I sounded like her little boy.

She got me what she knew was the best malt in my collection and a small jug of water, so I knew I was forgiven but was in for a lecture. Then she sat opposite me with a white wine.

“Rod–”

“Please Cassie, no more,” I begged. “Leave it alone, I’ve had enough for tonight.”

“OK,” she answered, “but just one thing. Just one?” she pleaded.

I sighed deeply, “Go on. If you weren’t my Sis–”

“Rachel did come here,” she ploughed on. “You heard her tonight. She thought I was your live-in girlfriend. Didn’t you see how upset she was to find out I was your sister? She made a mistake. That’s why she didn’t get in touch. She didn’t want to mess up your relationship with your girlfriend. That’s all I want to say.”

“But you were at school with us!” I said plaintively. “She must have known who you were.”

“Brother, I didn’t know her! You and she were in year thirteen, and I was in year seven. You were seventeen or eighteen and I was eleven or twelve. I’ve changed since then, or haven’t you noticed?” She ran her hands over her bust by way of illustration with a broad grin! “I did think at the time I’d seen her before, but she was six years ahead, and she’s different as well – it’s years since you and she left school!”

“But she could still have talked to me, especially about the divorce. I could have been with someone else, but she didn’t have to cut me out altogether. The telephone has been invented, you know.”

“I don’t think you know her as well as you think you do,” my sister told me. “Even I can see she’s a walking dream, and I’m not even remotely gay or even bi. But you think because she can get any man she wants she has to be arrogant, or only interested in good biological specimens, and not really interested in you. From meeting her, I’m pretty sure she’s not like that.”

“Well, at school she was like that. She was with that little group of ‘pretty’ girls and they never looked at any of us ordinary lads. She was going out with Gary for a while and I was his best mate. She never spoke a single word to me.

“Then when I came back here with the firm, and Gary and I took up again, she had as little to do with me as possible. She would come to pick up Gary from here, but never once came up to the flat. She had not the slightest interest in me.”

“Until,” she said and waited with a knowing smile.

“OK,” I conceded, “She seemed to warm to me as we did the things she liked. But then, nothing. Look, even after divorcing Gary, she found herself a good looking, self-assured guy. She’s not changed; the really pretty girls go after handsome, rich men, not the rest of us.”

“We don’t go after them, Roddy, they come after us. I wouldn’t be surprised if Rachel never had an ordinary bloke make a play for her. It’s the circle she’s used to. Girls are attracted to handsome men, powerful men, rich men. It’s biological, they are the ones who will provide good genes.”

“But you always end up dating rich arrogant bastards.”

“OK, because they’re easy on the eye and they make a play for me! I live in hope that one day a reasonable looking, solid, good-hearted bloke will take a chance on me. If he’s well off, so much the better. Rachel is the same I’m sure. She wouldn’t get in the way of another woman’s happiness by intruding. She’s too good to try to take a man from another woman. I know I’m right.”

“And I won’t come between her and her new lover,” I reposted. “Come on, Cassie, you saw the guy she was with. You saw his looks, his self-assurance, his charm and his money.

“Look at me, and be realistic. I’m a computer geek. I don’t figure against characters like that. As far as she’s concerned I never have. I was an interlude, and wasn’t making a play for her – you know the phrase girls trot out to blokes like me: ‘Can’t we just be friends?’”

“Brother of mine, you are your own worst enemy. You are not bad looking. Your face has character, you are slim and healthy. OK, so you’re not a body builder, but you’re in shape. Most girls will give you a chance. Bloody hell, they already have!

“Look at Deirdre. A really pretty girl. She wasn’t slow to share your bed, was she? Your problem is your self-image; you do yourself down. All this crap about Rachel being out of your league, that’s what it is, Roddy, crap! You are a good looking man, and she is just an ordinary woman underneath those looks.”

“In any case it’s all academic Cassie,” I replied with resignation. “She’s with someone else. I’m not interfering. Finish.”

“OK,” she said despondently, “Have it your way.”

I could see she was disappointed and wondered whether she would really let me ‘have it my own way’, or more likely hatch some nefarious plan.

And there we left it. We turned the TV on and watched a silly Rom-Com, and then went to bed – separately!

We had just finished breakfast next morning when the flat doorbell summoned me. There on the threshold stood Rachel.

“Rachel!” I said, somewhat stupidly, not for the first time, I remembered when she first got in my car: it was obvious who she was then as well.

“Someone let me in the block, can I come in?” she asked. “There are things I need to tell you.”

“Yes, of course,” I said and stood back to let her past me.

I ushered her to the living room and she sat down on the sofa. Cassie came in and offered her coffee and she accepted.

I sat opposite her in an armchair. Cassie brought in the coffee and said she was going back to her flat. We were alone.

I poured the coffee for her then I waited. She had come for a reason, and I was not going to help. In any case, I did not know what to say.

At length she began to speak.

“I couldn’t let what happened last night lie like that. I need to talk to you about it.”

“If you must,” I said with resignation. “Go ahead.”

She frowned, but went ahead anyway.

“It’s been a catalogue of mistakes Roddy. The first was Gary wanting me to cuckold him. The second was me agreeing, though I did not want to. I should have stuck to my principles and told him no. The third was us agreeing to mislead him.”