Page 127 of The Post Office By the Sea

“You’re staying?” Rachel looked flummoxed.

“I’m staying and working in the post office shop and, if the offer is still open, joining Campbell Cleaners.”

“But . . .”

“I didn’t see the text you sent,” Claire explained, “before I spoke to you. Not that it actually makes a difference. I should have just said what I felt, what I wanted. I thought I’d learned that much at least, but apparently I hadn’t. Just like I should have said it twenty years ago.” She took a deep breath, unable to see the expression on Rachel’s face in the shadowy interior of the rhododendron. “I know we were just kids and it’s old history and all the rest of it, but I should have fought for our friendship. I know that now. I always knew that.”

“I should have too,” Rachel said, trying for a smile. “I should have said something. It wasn’t all your fault, Claire.”

“I don’t want to make the same mistakes now. I want it to be different. For us to be different.”

Rachel wrapped her arms around her knees. “Well, I actually want to be different too. Not so bossy and bitchy.”

“You bossy?” Claire smiled.

Rachel laughed, shaking her head. “It stinks under here,” she remarked after a moment. “I think a dog must have pooed somewhere.” Rachel gave Claire a direct look. “So are you serious about the cleaning thing?”

“Absolutely, if you’re serious about letting me in on it.”

“Yes—”

“Then it’s settled.” Claire held out her hand. “We can shake on it, or we can get out of here and go have a proper drink down at the Hangman’s Noose.”

“Drink, definitely,” Rachel said, but after they’d scooted out from under the rhododendron, dusty and dirty and definitely worse for wear, Rachel pulled her into a sudden and surprising hug. “I’ve missed you,” she said, her voice choking a little, and Claire returned the hug, felt the answering emotion tighten in her chest.

“I’ve missed you too,” she said, and after a brief, hard hug, they pulled away, sniffing self-consciously.

“Right, we’re sorted, then,” Rachel said.

“Yes,” Claire answered. “Sorted.”

“Well, that took long enough,” Rachel said, rolling her eyes and smiling. “Only about twenty years.”

“Better late than never,” Claire said, and laughing, she slipped her arm through Rachel’s. “Now let’s go have that drink.”

The wind was picking up a little, the sun glinting off the sea that sparkled in the distance as arm in arm they headed back down the school lane.