‘Oh – that doesn’t help you? That’s right, because all the buildings here are huge, cream-coloured stone.’
‘Morgan—’
‘I’m on the corner of Gay Street, according to the sign, so I guess I’m at the Circle place? What number are you on the Royal Crescent? I really need to see someone re-enact that annoying kiss from Persuasion so I can purge it from my mind. Do you think Aiden and you could oblige me?’
‘Morgan!’ Rose pursed her lips and tried again. ‘Just turn around, go back down the hill and find number 40 – it’s the Jane Austen Centre. I’ll meet you outside.’ Rose ended the conversation and went back to the computer, relieved to see the doctor still engrossed in his work, his glasses perched once more on the end of his nose as he made pencil notes in the margins of a document.
Quickly making sure all her own work was saved, Rose picked up her bag and then stood awkwardly for a moment before walking over to him. No reaction; then she cleared her throat.
The doctor looked up, then tossed his pencil onto the desk. ‘Are you off?’
‘Yes, all done. I left voice messages on the two calls as no one answered, and I’ve saved the presentation to a memory stick as well as on the laptop itself.’ She held the stick out to him. ‘Should I…’ She glanced at the mayhem on his desk, then met his gaze. ‘Do you want me to take it straight to the office and get it printed off?
‘No, that’s fine.’ He took it from her just as the clock on the mantelpiece chimed the hour. ‘I’ll have a final read-through, see if I want to make any further changes first.’
Rose checked her watch. It was already two o’clock. ‘Can I get you anything to eat? There’s a nice deli just around the corner.’
‘I know the one you mean – but no, thanks.’ He leaned back in his chair and stretched. ‘I think I’ll take a walk around the local park, get some air, before I get back to this.’ He waved a hand at the mess of papers on his desk as he got to his feet.
‘And er – so there’s nothing else you need assistance with?’ Rose knew Morgan was waiting, and she’d also lost an entire morning on the busiest of days, but she simply didn’t want to leave.
Dr Trevellyan shook his head as he shrugged into his jacket. ‘No. Think I’m all sorted.’
Picking up her bag, Rose followed him out into the hallway, and he locked up before holding the street door aside for her. ‘Hope it hasn’t left you in too much of a mess in the office.’
Rose ducked her head as she passed him. ‘I’m sure it’s all fine.’ She hovered a little uncomfortably on the step as he closed the door and then turned to stare out across the scene as he pocketed his keys. Having spent so much time with him, she felt completely at a loss as to how to end their meeting. Should she offer to shake his hand? No, surely that was too formal… But at least you’d get the chance to touch him again.
Feeling the moment stretch on, Rose cleared her throat. ‘Well, goodbye, Doctor Trevellyan.’ He gave a start, then turned to look at her, and she couldn’t help but smile – he was always so easily lost in his thoughts.
‘I filmed in Bath a few years ago – it was my first time on the TV, and my first set-up was down there.’ He pointed to the field below the Royal Crescent. ‘Took me ten minutes to say my name like a rational person.’
How could Rose forget? The filming of an episode of Time Travellers, an archaeology show, haunted her. What an idiot she had been, applauding like some giddy schoolgirl when he held up his first find for the camera.
‘I’m sure you aren’t the only one who’s been… irrational around a TV crew.’ Was that her voice, squeaking?
He turned to look at her, and before she knew what was happening, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. ‘Goodbye – Rose.’
He turned then and walked off along the Royal Crescent towards the park as though he didn’t have a care in the world, leaving a stunned Rose on the doorstep, her heart pounding as she raised a hand to where his touch had been.
Chapter Six
The scene outside the Jane Austen Centre was much as Rose had anticipated. There was the usual melee of tourists, all lining up to have their picture taken, either with Martin, the costumed greeter – renowned for being the most photographed man in Bath – or the rather austere model of Jane Austen which had pride of place on the step in front of the building.
Today, however, there was the added confusion of a small group of people huddled around someone Rose couldn’t see until she was almost upon them: Morgan! Surrounded by a host of new friends, she was chatting animatedly to them, all totally oblivious to their blocking the street. The moment she spotted Rose, however, Morgan excused herself , and they quickly fell into step together as they walked round the corner towards Jolly’s.
Morgan grinned at her friend. ‘Well? How was your morning? Did you get him to pose for photos? Did he propose?’
Rose laughed as she shook her head. ‘No! Of course not.’ She glanced at Morgan as they entered the shop. She’d had but ten minutes to compose herself since parting from the doctor, and she wasn’t sure she could speak coherently. It was, after all, nothing. People kissed socially on the cheek all the time these days, didn’t they? It had been a thank you, that was all. She was only thankful he hadn’t adopted the European influence presently infiltrating the normally restrained British culture of kissing on both cheeks. She had never managed to get it right, always going for the wrong side first. The chance of mishap and kissing someone – him – accidentally on the lips was way beyond any level of embarrassment Rose could imagine.
‘You’re blushing!’ Morgan grabbed Rose by the arm and pulled her aside as they were about to enter the cafe. ‘What happened? Was he wearing a shirt or not?’
Rose stared at her friend as she recalled Dr Trevellyan standing in the doorway, fresh from his shower, buttoning up his new shirt with those long, slender fingers…
‘Rose Wallace! You are becoming redder by the minute! Tell me everything, now.’
Glancing around, Rose shook her head. ‘Come on.’ She opened the door to the cafe. ‘Let’s grab a quick sandwich. I promise to tell you – and it’s nothing, honestly; just… nothing at all.’ She ignored Morgan’s snort as they picked up a tray and joined the queue.
Nothing else was said between them as they selected food and drinks and carried their trays to a secluded table in a corner, but Rose was conscious of Morgan’s smug expression. Surely she was going to disappoint her friend with how little had happened?
‘So?’ Morgan wasted no time. ‘Did he kiss you?’
Against her volition, warm colour flooded Rose’s cheeks again.
Morgan’s mouth dropped open, but she shut it with a snap. ‘Wow; I was only joking!’ She fixed her friend with a serious look. ‘I knew it. How could he resist you? It’s true love. It has to be.’
‘Morgan! Shhh.’ Rose glanced around the cafe, panicked in case anyone overheard them. ‘It’s not like that, not at all.’
With a sceptical look, Morgan applied herself to her food for a moment, then said, ‘Perhaps you’d better tell me what it is like, then. Come on.’ She took a swig of water from her bottle. ‘Out with it; and don’t leave out any detail.’
As succinctly as she could, Rose outlined her morning, including the doctor’s wine-stained shirt – much to Morgan’s amusement – and his parting gesture.
When she’d finished, Morgan raised a knowing brow. ‘Never uses your first name, you said. Probably hadn’t even registered what it is, you said. Seems to me it’s how he thinks of you, or he wouldn’t have used it just now.’
Rose shook her head as she finished off her lunch. ‘No – I think he’s just absent-minded; he won’t even be aware he used it.’
‘Whatever. I think we have lift-off.’ Morgan piled the debris from their lunch onto their trays, and they carried them to the counter before heading through the department store and out into Milsom Street. The afternoon was particularly fair for mid-September and the street full of people.
‘Oh, look.’ Morgan pointed towards two people in full Regency dress. The costumes looked extremely well researched and made, even from this distance. A small group of tourists, cameras to the fore, were taking it in turn to have their photo taken besides the middle-aged couple, who seemed rather delighted with the burst of attention. Rose shuddered; she would have died of embarrassment.
‘We’ll see a lot of this now.’ They turned down the hill. ‘I’d best head back to the office. I’ve missed so much of the day, James will be going spare.’
Morgan tugged on Rose’s arm. ‘Can we just go in here?’ She waved a hand at a large bookshop. ‘I really want to buy a few books about the city. It will give me something to read while you’re working. Five minutes.’
They headed into Waterstones, where a helpful assistant soon directed Morgan to the section she required, leaving Rose to peruse the display of Austen-related books and materials on display. During the festival, this was always expanded and more prominent, and she was unsurprised not to be the only person browsing through the books and goods on sale.
Once again, there were a few people already enjoying the opportunity to walk around in Regency dress, in particular three young women who were decidedly giggly and clearly a little self-conscious about what they were doing. Rose’s attention, however, was soon drawn by a slender figure over near the permanent section of classic literature. Then she smiled; though dressed in normal clothes, albeit a little dated, the young woman clearly sported a close imitation of a Regency hairstyle. No doubt she had been practising, but had not felt brave enough to don the full costume yet.
Idly, Rose watched as the lady, who was staring fixedly at the top shelf where all of Jane Austen’s published works resided, reached out and touched the spines, one by one, almost reverently. Definitely a true fan if ever she had seen one. Rose smiled; if she was not mistaken, the lady was softly saying the titles under her breath as her hand moved along the books…
‘I’m done.’ With a start, Rose turned around to find Morgan had returned, a small pile of books in her arms.
They walked over to the desk, but as Morgan chatted happily to the man taking her payment, Rose glanced back over to the lady, only to realise she had gone. With a shrug, she turned back and, with a little persuasion, finally managed to remove Morgan from the shop and leave the young man free to serve the next person in the queue.
* * *
‘So – shall I call in on my way home later, or what?’ Rose turned to her friend as they reached the steps up to her office, ready to part company with her for the remainder of the working day.
‘Nah.’ Morgan shook her head, laughing, and lifted the carrier of books. ‘I’ll pop up with you and collect that folder from the flat – I left it here when I came looking for help yesterday and forgot to pick it up when your boss mentioned food.’
‘Of course. Come on, then.’ Rose led the way up the stairs to the office. There was no sign of Roger – had he returned to work at all today? – and James was on the phone.
Meeting James’s eyes as she crossed to her desk, he smiled briefly at her. ‘The stopcock should be under the sink… no, not the blue wheel, the red? Yes, that’s it. Okay, good. I’ll get someone to you immediately.’ He paused, his glance moving to Morgan, who was hovering in the doorway. ‘Not at all. No problem. Bye.’
Rose looked attentively to James for information as he replaced the receiver.
‘There’s been a small flood at Rivers Street.’
‘In the kitchen?’ Rose dropped her bag onto the floor by her desk as James rummaged through the papers on his own for his car keys.
‘On the lower ground floor; sounds like a problem in the utility room. Thankfully, it’s tiles, not carpet.’ He glanced at his watch.
‘Can you call Overtons and see if they can get there now? I’m afraid I’ve got to leave you with all the catch-up from this morning as well; Kathy’s on back to back check-ins and I’ve got an appointment.’
Rose waved him away. ‘No worries. I’ll look after things here. Morgan.’ She looked over to her friend who remained by the door. ‘Did you want to leave your shopping here and go and see some sights?’
‘Absolutely not.’ Morgan walked over and plucked a pencil from the collection on Rose’s desk before tucking it behind her ear. ‘I’ll help you.’
Rose was unsure whether Morgan was serious, but James glanced back as he opened the door.
‘Let her help if she wants to – she was a welcome addition while you were with Aiden this morning.’
Taken by surprise, Rose laughed, looking from one to the other. ‘Really? How on earth did that happen?’
‘Morgan can fill you in. I have to dash.’ He looked over at Morgan. ‘Feel free to use my desk.’ He gestured towards it. ‘If you can find it, that is.’
With that, he was gone, and before anything further could be said the phone rang. Morgan instantly snapped it up with a smile on her face and a cheery greeting for whoever was at the other end before busily scribbling notes onto a pad she had somehow retrieved from the mess on James’s desk.
With a smile, Rose turned her attention to her inbox, which had filled up in her morning’s absence. She resolutely closed her mind to her time spent with Dr Trevellyan; it had been wonderful but she would be a fool to hope it might be repeated, especially as she was on holiday the following week. By the time she returned, he would be gone again for another year.
This sobering thought was sufficient for Rose to relegate the memory to where it belonged, and instead she leapt back into being the coolly efficient manager she was known to be.
More than two hours later, having fetched a glass of water for Morgan and made herself a cup of much-needed tea, Rose sank into her chair slightly bemused by how the day had turned out.
When not chattering away to her friend, Morgan turned out to be excellent on the phone. She gathered information competently, got a quick answer from Rose if necessary, and responded with unquenchable friendliness. When the phones were silent, Morgan chattered away as Rose dealt with emails and texted Kathy over timings. It was a huge improvement on exchanging instant messages across thousands of miles of cyberspace and several time zones.
It was during such a lull that Roger sauntered into the office, and Rose waved a hand towards Morgan.
‘Roger, this is a friend of mine who is over on holiday.’ Morgan had looked up when Rose started to speak, a ready smile on her face, and she quickly got to her feet and offered a hand. ‘Morgan, this is Roger.’
Roger held onto Morgan’s hand far longer than was necessary.
‘Pleasure to meet you.’ Only Rose saw the fleeting wink her friend sent across the room. Having retrieved her hand, Morgan sank back into the seat and picked up her pencil and notebook again, but Roger – tiresome man – perched himself on the edge of James’s desk and started to ask Morgan about where she came from.
A call on her mobile prevented Rose from hearing more than this, but when she finally ended her conversation, Roger remained perched on the desk and Morgan had assumed a blank, non-committal expression.
‘It must be pretty hard to get your head around all the history in this country – or anywhere in Europe. Your lot think anything older than fifty years is antique. Americans never can seem to build anything that lasts.’
Rose cringed with embarrassment; Roger had, it seemed, decided insulting American workmanship was a good way to impress her friend.
‘What’s the update on your check-ins, Roger?’ Rose glared at him, but he barely glanced at her.
Morgan fixed Roger with her gaze. ‘To be fair we have something where I’m from that you don’t seem to have.’
‘Oh? And what’s that?’
‘Frequent earthquakes,’ snapped James as he walked back into the office, juggling some files, his briefcase and a small bunch of flowers. Roger raised his chin but said nothing. Even he didn’t have the gall to challenge his boss when he had that steely look in his eye.
‘Everything okay?’ Rose took the files from James as he stopped by her desk. ‘Do you want a cuppa?’
James didn’t answer; he dropped his briefcase and the flowers onto Rose’s desk, and she winced as a few petals fell off. Roger had retreated behind his own desk to collect his things, and James walked over to speak to him in a low voice. Judging by the colour flooding Roger’s cheeks, he was not wishing him a pleasant weekend, and with a sour look in Rose’s direction, he brushed past James and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Rose and Morgan shared a quick glance as James turned around to face them. Then he smiled slightly, and both girls released a visible breath.
‘Rose, anything new to – no, don’t get up, Morgan.’ He waved a hand at her friend as she made to stand. ‘Anything need doing tonight?’
She shook her head, looking quickly through her notes. ‘No – nothing that can’t wait until Monday now. All the urgent things have been sorted.’ She looked up. James had gone to stand beside her friend and was leaning over to log in to his computer. ‘And Kathy is doing the two check-ins this weekend – she knows her stuff.’
‘Excellent.’ James straightened up. ‘And next week? Anything I ought to be aware of while you’re on holiday?’
Rose shook her head. ‘No, no. Everything’s as done as it can be and, barring any maintenance issues arising, it should be a quiet week.’
‘Good – well, I’ll just catch up on emails before I shut up shop.’ He stood back as Morgan got to her feet. ‘Thank you, Morgan. Your help is much appreciated – twice over.’
‘I had fun.’ Morgan smiled widely at him, all trace of her closed expression gone. ‘Two favours repaid, one to go.’
Rose gathered her things, handed Morgan her bag of books, and they walked to the door as James sat at his desk, pulling his phone charger towards him. ‘Have a fabulous weekend and enjoy your break. You’ll be missed.’ James threw a knowing look in the direction of Roger’s desk, and Rose smiled sympathetically.
The Particular Charm of Miss Jane Austen Page 4
