Part 4

Eddie dried off and dressed quickly, opening the bedroom curtains to a deceptively warm weekend sun. He walked slowly down the stairs, the smell of coffee gradually becoming stronger, until he found himself stood silently against the kitchen door frame, her delicate figure hunched over on the table.

She was checking over the post he'd brought in from the front door, letter in one hand and her head resting gently on the other. Steam lifted lightly through her hair, draped as a curtain around the mug before she drew it back behind her ear. She placed the letter carefully on the table, lifting the coffee slowly to her lips, her eyes fixated on the beautiful but untidy scribble across the page.

"Is that handwritten?" He walked over as she flicked her head back, a suspiciously guilty shock drawn over her features. He picked up the envelope.

"Milano…?" he read the postmark aloud, "What, as in Milan? As in Italy?"

Rachel hesitated, as Eddie's gaze drifted over to the photographs.

"Yes. Yes, an old friend who moved there," Eddie leant down to look, "That's her eldest there… And that's her and her daughter on either side…" He picked up the picture of Pascal's birthday party.

"And another son?"

"Yes, another son," she replied with a nervous smile, before handing him a third photo, almost guiltily, "And here are her two youngest."

"Twin boys? Wow, looks like she's got her hands full, all that testosterone." Rachel nodded, keen to change the subject, and said the first thing that came to mind.

"They're coming over here in a few weeks, on holiday in Manchester. Rene and Sophie are considering foreign universities… They're the first two," she added.

"Oh, nice! We'll have to meet up, have them round here maybe." He smiled his trademark happy innocence, and Rachel returned it, ignoring her growing dread.

"Maybe."

***

"Someone's here to see you, miss!"

The raucous laughter and jarring taunts rippled from David Parry, out across the back row and forward, up towards the teacher's desk. As the excitement rose to a climax, Sophia mimed her apologies through the glass in the classroom door, gesturing towards the foyer.

"Okay, okay, settle down," Miss Mason ordered quite superfluously, for the class had already moved on from the distraction and fallen into idle chatter, "Five minutes left, let's go through the answers."

"Sophia, what are you doing here?" She had left the class quicker than the students for a change. Away from the kids, her eyes were tired, and her face was frowned with what should have been confusion, but looked more like concern.

"I just thought we could meet up, you know… Go for a drink after work, catch up. Are you okay?" she added, mirroring Rachel's expression with an overriding kindness.

"Yeah, yes I'm fine, just tired. You know, actually that sounds like a really good idea," she forced a smile, "I've a few things to tell you."

"You're leaving? I thought you loved it in that dump!" Sophia smirked with the same cheeky arrogance that she had given her eldest son. Rachel laughed, relaxing despite herself.

"I know, I know. And I do, you know, I've really learned a lot there." She sighed. "But you know me, itchy feet. There's a head of department job I've got my eye on, actually, down your way…" Sophia listened attentively, aching softly and silently with concern for her younger friend. Rachel had grown confident in the years they'd known one another, found a job and a life that she excelled at. She was close to flawless, successful in all her endeavours. But she'd grown to fear failure above all else, to despise her own imperfections, and she could never approach life with the laid-back optimism that Sophia did.

"Well you're welcome to stay with us at first," she offered, as Rachel discussed her concerns for finding affordable accommodation, "The new house seems quiet, even with the five of us. We must just be used to being crowded."

Rachel said her thanks, the smile remaining on her face as the feeling left it. New house. Five bedrooms. That handsome husband had really turned Sophia's fortunes. She moved to the bar to order another round, always feeling justified in her growing resentment.