Dearest Rose
Page 39
‘But it makes no sense,’ Rose repeated to the woman, one Clare Smith, again. ‘They must be afraid, and so upset. Their father is behind bars, he can’t hurt them. So what earthly reason is there that they can’t be with their gran?’
‘I understand what you are saying,’ Miss Smith said wearily. ‘And yes, on the face of it, it makes perfect sense. But there is procedure, home checks to be done, paperwork to be signed off. Once children are in the system it takes –’
‘Look,’ Rose said, ‘I know this is your job. I understand what a hard, awful job it is, and I’m glad there are people out there like you with the guts to do it, because I know I couldn’t. But those are two little boys who have a loving gran to care for them, taking up places in a home that some children somewhere who aren’t so lucky are bound to need. There must be a way you can make this happen more quickly.’
There was a long silence on the end of the phone.
‘I’m not promising anything,’ Clare Smith said, ‘but I’ll see if I can have them released into their gran’s care by tonight.’
‘Tonight? Thank you,’ Rose gushed gratefully. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘I’m not doing you any favours,’ Clare said primly. ‘I’m just doing my job, same as always.’
‘That was impressive,’ Frasier smiled at her as she sat down, beside him, triumphant. ‘The first time I think I’ve ever seen you in full sail. Quite formidable.’
‘You make me sound like an old maid,’ Rose laughed, pleased to have done something that she knew would ease Shona’s mind. ‘Which I suppose I am, in a way.’
‘Whatever you may be, Rose,’ Frasier said, looking at her so intensely that Rose had to break his gaze and study her hands, ‘you will never be that.’
The scan results had been promising, and in the long minutes that followed Shona’s being taken off the drugs that sedated her, Rose and Shona’s mother sat side by side, Frasier waiting outside in the corridor, refusing to go back to the hotel and get some rest.
Rose had been miles away, lost in her thoughts, when a weird, rasping croaking sound broke her concentration. Rose and Shona’s mum both sat forward, straining to hear what Shona was trying to say. Then Rose pressed the call button to alert a nurse to the fact that Shona had come round.
‘What is it, love?’ her mum asked her, bending her ear to Shona’s mouth. After a moment she looked up at Rose, a smile twitching around her mouth. ‘She says her head is fucking killing her.’
It was several more hours before Shona could really string a sentence together, and several more hours after that before the consulting team had a chance to test her for signs of brain damage. Finally the doctor in charge, a tall lean-looking man with a reassuring air of authority, came out to speak to them.
‘I see no reason why she won’t make a full recovery,’ he told Shona’s mother, who burst into grateful tears. He continued impassively, ‘It will be a long one, there are many other areas to address – the broken bones, mostly – but what is most important is that the serious injuries are no longer life-threatening.’
‘Oh, thank you, oh, thank you,’ Shona’s mother sobbed gratefully.
‘Don’t thank me,’ the consultant said, smiling briefly. ‘It was your daughter that did all the hard work.’
It was getting on for ten o’clock and Shona’s mother had finally gone home, where she was to meet Clare Smith, who was bringing her grandsons, when Rose finally got her first moments alone with Shona. She was still groggy, and her swollen mouth made it hard for her to talk much, but when Rose looked into her eyes, shining brightly behind the blood-engorged lids, she could see the bright spark of life that was her friend looking back at her.
‘So you were right,’ Shona whispered. ‘You said I shouldn’t take him back, and you were right, smug cow.’
‘Don’t joke about it, Shona,’ Rose said. ‘I’m not smug. I’m just grateful that you are here.’
‘I really thought …’ Shona said, having to pause every few words to catch her breath, her broken ribs hindering her speech, ‘I thought I could … love him enough to … make him happy.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ Rose said, unable to find any part of her friend that wasn’t covered in wires. Even her hand, the one part of her that didn’t seem to be broken and bruised, had been hooked up to a drip. ‘You can’t say you didn’t try to save him. But that was the last time, wasn’t it? You’re going to concentrate on saving yourself now, and your sons. Bring them up to be the sort of men you can be proud of.’
Shona closed her eyes briefly. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I think two visits to the ITC unit is … enough for any … girl. I’m done with him … I wish I’d seen sense four ribs and … two arms ago.’
Rose shook her head, smiling despite herself, at Shona’s indomitable spirit.
‘Listen, I have to go back in the morning,’ Rose told her reluctantly. ‘Maddie’s restarting school and I want to be there. But I’ll phone you every day and as soon as she’s settled, in a week or two, I’ll be back to help you get sorted at home.’
Shona closed her eyes in acknowledgement. ‘Sorry about your dad,’ she whispered.
‘No need to be,’ Rose said, smiling sadly. ‘Sad but not sorry. The time we had together was a miracle, really. I can’t be sorry about that.’
‘And … Dickhead?’ Shona asked her. ‘You gonna go round? … Your house? Your things?’
‘Let him have them,’ Rose said, realising that she hadn’t even given the fact that she was in the same town as her soon-to-be ex-husband a second thought. ‘I’ve got everything I want with me. All he’s got are his memories and an empty old house that’s seen more than its fair share of tears. I don’t want to ever go back there.’
‘That’s my … girl,’ Shona said, closing her eyes, this time to sleep. ‘You and me … babe. We’re on a roll.’
Rose looked out of Frasier’s hotel room window, more of a room above a pub, really, but which looked out at the sea, as he made her a cup of tea. They’d eaten fish and chips in his room, neither saying very much, both exhausted from the emotional roller coaster of the day.
It was hard to see where the sky ended and the sea began in the dark, but Rose stared out towards the beach anyway, seeing in her mind’s eye the little girl she had been once, chasing her mum and dad across the sand.
‘Frasier,’ she said slowly without taking her eyes off the view.
‘Rose?’ he replied, saying her name with infinite care.
‘You know, don’t you, that when we get back to Storm Cottage you have to move out?’
‘Yes,’ Frasier said. ‘Yes, of course I do. I’m sorry I’ve stayed on so long.’
‘It’s just, now most of all I need to be alone,’ Rose said. ‘Maddie and I need to find out what life will be like, just the two of us. And we have to start somewhere. There’s still so much for us to go through. So much I still have to deal with; with Richard, the charges, the divorce. I can’t always lean on you, and I don’t want to. Now seems like the right time to stand on my own two feet.’
‘I agree,’ Frasier said, a little numbly. ‘Whatever you want, Rose.’
There was a beat of silent between them.
‘But tonight …’ Rose hesitated, ‘please can I stay here with you tonight?’ She turned round to find him standing, his face utterly shocked at her suggestion. ‘I don’t mean romantically,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I would never … and I know you’ve paid for two rooms but …’ Tears sprang unexpectedly into her eyes. ‘It’s just I’m so tired, and I’ve been so worried, and so much has happened. As a friend, I was wondering if you would let me stay here tonight and just … just hold me?’
‘Of course,’ Frasier said at once, crossing the room to be with her and putting his arms around her.
For a very long time Rose sobbed into his chest, crying for her father, for Maddie and for Shona, but most of all for the little girl who used to run laughing on the beach, and who had been lost for so very long.
Epilogue
Rose had discovered that she loved watching the crackling fire of a winter evening, when the cold nights were drawing in, and Maddie, weary after another successful day at school, was tucked up happily in bed.
Her life in Storm Cottage had settled into a comfortable contented routine over the last few months, one in which she had finally found the time to let her heart and her mind settle and heal, as she gradually made sense out of everything that had happened to bring her to this point.
In the weeks that followed John’s death, Rose came to realise that he had left her an exceptionally wealthy woman, and that, if she wanted, she never had to work or worry about money again. Rose had been both overwhelmed and terrified by the responsibility. With the help of Janette, she’d set up a trust fund for Maddie, doubled the already very comfortable settlement that John had left Tilda, and after a great deal of discussion with Jenny, bought into the B & B – just the business, not the property – ensuring that Jenny and Brian’s family home was safe, and they were also, at long last, free of both debt and worry.
Then together Rose and Jenny set about implementing the plan that Frasier had first come up with on that dreadful morning when he’d found out about her kissing Ted.
It was a brilliant idea really, as clever as it was simple. With Rose’s investment they set about completely redecorating the entire establishment, to make it modern and fresh, and gutting the annexe to turn it into a light airy studio, after which they began the process of remarketing the B & B as an artists’ and writers’ retreat, its association with John Jacobs doing it no harm at all when it came to attracting trade.
Rose had even managed, after some stiff debate and the promise of hired help, to persuade Jenny to extend the hours when breakfast was served and introduce coffee. Her next plan was to convince Jenny to offer her excellent home cooking in the evening, but she was waiting for the New Year before she suggested that, having learnt from Brian that Jenny took much better to new ideas if she believed them to be her own.
It had been a happy few weeks, seeing the B & B coming back to life again, going for the odd drink in the pub, watching from a distance as Ted’s flirtations with several girls eventually petered out to just one: Tamar from the gallery, who’d begun to come down once a week to catalogue and value all of John’s remaining work for the insurers, a gesture that Rose had been glad of, knowing that Frasier would have come himself, if she hadn’t told him how much she needed time alone, not only to get over what had been for her a lifelong love, but to find her feet in this brand-new world, where she was the mistress of her own destiny. Tamar had caught Ted’s eye the first time he saw her and Rose was fairly certain that something of a romance was blossoming between the two.
* * *
On the rare occasions Rose did see Frasier since the night she had spent fully clothed in his arms in the hotel room in Broadstairs, that special closeness between them, that easy joy they took in each other’s company had slowly returned, inch by inch, fraction by fraction. And perhaps, Rose even allowed herself to think from time to time, just for a fraction of a second, just maybe … there might be a second chance for them both.
She’d been thinking exactly that when a sound by the door interrupted her thoughts. Turning round, she noticed that a long white envelope had been slid underneath the door. Intrigued and a little alarmed, Rose went to pick it up, anxiety flaring in her chest as she recognised Frasier’s handwriting.
Dearest Rose,
I will never forget the first time I saw you, you took my breath away. But it wasn’t your amazing beauty that I fell instantly in love with, it was your quiet courage, the fire in your eyes, even when you sat so still, and talked so quietly. I told myself I was crazy for falling for a woman who was not only married, but pregnant, a woman I’d only just met, and I tried to forget about you. But I couldn’t stop myself from writing you that note, from trying to say so much without saying anything at all.
The second I met you again, all of those feelings came back, not that they had ever really gone away – you have always been the woman of my dreams. I loved your father very much, but I confess I hoped that by knowing him, I would get the chance to see you again one day. As our friendship grew I discovered more and more reasons to fall in love with you, but I never believed that you might feel the same way as me. When you told me about the note, and the real reason you came to Millthwaite I was so happy, everything was perfect. I’m not proud of what happened after that, of the way I behaved, and how I slighted you, you who deserve it least of all. I believe I was overwhelmed and I realise how it must have looked, but I wasn’t running away from you. I was running away from the terrifying prospect of having a dream come true and of somehow failing you. If only I had an ounce of your courage.
I can only hope that by now you have had the time to forgive me my foolishness and to realise once again that if you give me another chance, I will do all I can every day for the rest of our lives to deserve you.
Dearest Rose, you are the bravest, most beautiful, funniest, cleverest woman I have ever met and you make my heart race as much now as the very first time I saw you. And just so we are clear, I love you, Rose.
Yours, always,
Fraiser
PS. I’m standing outside the door.
Rose clasped the letter to her chest, knowing even in that moment that it would be one she would read over and over again, for the rest of her life. And then, with tears of joy brimming in her eyes, she put her hand on the latch, and opened the front door.
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Copyright © Rowan Coleman 2012
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