Page 50 of Love In Translation

“So, why haven’t you phoned your cousin yet?” Abi asked.

“Because I’m a coward?” Rheo replied.

“Mmm-hmm.” Abi snatched Rheo’s phone off the table. Rheo scrambled out of her chair, and when she made it to Abi’s side, her friend was inside the apartment and the video call was in progress. Right, she really needed to put a screen lock on her phone.

But Rheo wasn’t too worried. Carrie wouldn’t answer, she was far too busy—

“Who are you and why are you on Rheo’s phone?” Carrie’s familiar voice floated across to her.

“Hey, I’m Abi, Rheo’s friend,” Abi replied. She grabbed Rheo’s arm and tugged her to her side. “Here’s Rheo.”

Carrie’s smile was sweeter than she expected it to be. “Hi, Rhee,” she said. “It’s so good to see you.”

Rheo smiled, thinking Carrie looked fantastic. Her cousin’s face was makeup free, her long blond hair was beach-babe messy, and she wore a ratty, paint-splattered shirt. Rheo noted a smear of green on the side of her nose.

“Have you taken up painting again?” Rheo asked.

“I wish! No, paintball shooting.”

Pity. Carrie was a talented painter. Rheo took the phone from Abi and they walked back onto the patio. When Abi turned to walk into the kitchen, wanting to give her some privacy, Rheo tugged her shirt and pulled her back. Abi sat down again, but Rheo leaned against the railing.

“Is that Gilmartin?” Carrie demanded, her eyes narrowing. “Are you inGilmartin? What the hell, Rhee? You said you’d never go back there!”

Rheo gulped. “Well, that’s why I’m calling you—”

“Where are you staying?” Carrie demanded, her voice rising. “Paddy rented the Pink House to a friend of mine, Fletch. Have you met him? Why aren’t you telling me anything, Rheo?”

“Well, I would if you’d give me a minute to speak,” Rheo told her, exasperated.

Carrie waved her hand and nodded. “Okay,okay!”Her silence lasted a second. “But how long have you been there and—”

“Carrie, shut up, okay?” Rheo shouted, feeling on edge. She moved to the closest chair and looked at Abi, who smiled in sympathy. “It’s a long story, and I won’t be able to tell you if you keep interrupting.”

“Just tell me you are okay,” she said, sounding anxious.

“I’m fine.” Rheo never expected Carrie to be so worried about her. “Well, better than I was. I messed up at work, quite badly, and I went into a bit of a downward spiral,” Rheo said, testing the waters. At the first hint of teasing from Carrie, she’d cut the call.

“What about Callum?”

“Ah, he dumped me before all this happened.”

“The dick biscuit.”

Abi half snorted, half laughed at Carrie’s description. Carrie, to Rheo’s surprise, just tipped her head to the side and waited for more. So far, so good.

“I was forced into a six-month sabbatical, and instead of staying in New York, I sublet my apartment and came here. I’ve been hiding out in Gilmartin for a while now.”

Carrie’s eyes got bigger and bigger, and Rheo, now on a roll, decided to tell her the rest. “I’ve been living in the Pink House, but Paddy doesn’t know.”

“But Fletch is living there,” Carrie murmured, looking confused.

“His arrival was a bit of a shock. He agreed to let me stay, and I persuaded him to keep my presence in Gilmartin secret.”

“But why?” Carrie wailed.

Here came the hard part. “Because I didn’t want to tell any of you that my supposedly perfect life wasn’t so perfect after all,” she quietly admitted.

Carrie stared at her, her eyebrows lifting. “Honey,” she drawled, “the only person who thinks your life is perfect is you. We think it’s stressful and tough and very, very rigid.”

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