‘What?’ Evie said. ‘I thought you said you wanted us all to be more open and honest with each other?’
‘Yes, but not like that.’
Evie frowned and fiddled with her earring. ‘Oh, no!’ she said a moment later as she dived onto the floor. ‘I’ve lost its back.’ She looked around on the carpet, finally finding the gold fastening, and it was then that something caught her eye from under the sofa. It was a book, and she pulled out. ‘Is it yours, Gertie?’ she asked.
Gertie took the proffered book, a modern novel, and looked at it. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I think it was Mum’s.’ She flipped through the pages. ‘Hey! Look at this.’
Evie leaned forward on the sofa as Gertie pulled something out from between the pages.
‘It’s Mum!’ Evie said, looking at the old photograph. ‘When was it taken? I don’t recognise it.’
Celeste joined her sisters on the sofa. They handed her the photograph and she looked down into the smiling face of her mother. She was wearing a pretty dress the colour of primroses and her long, dark hair was loose and glossy. It had been taken over fifteen years before and Celeste instantly recognised it.
‘Mum looks pretty,’ Evie said.
‘Always,’ Celeste said. ‘That was one thing she could never do wrong, wasn’t it? And it was the most important thing to her too.’
‘I wonder where it was taken,’ Gertie said.
‘Don’t you remember it?’ Celeste said.
Evie and Gertie looked clueless.
‘Tell us,’ Gertie said.
‘It was at Aunt Leda’s party that summer we drove through to Oxfordshire. She had a little marquee up in the garden and that funny little band was playing jazz, and Mum was saying how awful it all was and how she would have done things properly but that Leda always had to have her own way – which was only fair, really, as it was her birthday. But you know what Mum was like – if she wasn’t involved with something or hadn’t even been consulted then it was always a complete disaster in her eyes.’
‘But she seems to be having a good time,’ Evie said.
‘Oh, yes,’ Celeste said. ‘She met a man there. He was plying her with drinks and they were flirting like mad. He was the one who took the photo. That’s why she’s smiling: she’s flirting.’
The sisters looked at the photograph again.
‘You really don’t remember?’ Celeste asked.
‘No,’ Gertie said.
‘Nope,’ Evie said.
‘Well, you should, because we were all standing right there with her.’
‘No we’re not,’ Evie said.
‘Well, not anymore, because she’s cut us all out.’ A strange look had entered Celeste’s eyes and she stood up, the photograph still in her hand as she left the room.
‘Celly?’ Gertie called after her but she didn’t respond.
Two hours later, Gertie started to get worried.
‘Celly?’ she called, knocking on the study door. ‘Please come out and talk to us.’
Evie appeared in the corridor. ‘She’s still in there?’ she whispered.
Gertie nodded and knocked again. ‘Just talk to us! We’re really worried about you.’
Evie stepped forward. ‘Let me give it a go,’ she said to Gertie before hammering on the door like an angry woodpecker.
‘Evie!’ Gertie hissed.
‘Celly?’ Evie called. ‘Are you in there?’ She tried the handle but the door had obviously been locked. ‘You need to talk to us. You’ve wheedled out all of our secrets. We need to listen to you now!’
‘That’s good,’ Gertie said, nodding in approval.
‘Yes, but she still isn’t responding. You don’t think she’s done anything silly, do you?’
‘Like what? What could she possibly do to herself in the study?’ Gertie asked.
‘Slash her wrists with an unpaid invoice?’
‘That isn’t funny, Evie. What are we going to do?’
‘I think we should ring Julian,’ Evie said. ‘I think Celly was really beginning to open up to him about all this stuff with Mum. Maybe he’ll be able to help her now.’
Gertie nodded. ‘Good idea!’
They went through to the hall.
‘You do it,’ Evie said.
Gertie picked up the phone. ‘Damn! What’s his number?’
‘I’ve got it,’ Evie said, taking her mobile out. ‘I made a point of getting it from him because I knew Celly wouldn’t let me have it.’
Gertie dialled the number and waited.
‘Julian? You’re in Suffolk? Oh, good! I’m worried about Celeste. She’s locked herself in the study and won’t talk to us,’ Gertie said. ‘I’m not really sure what’s happened. She’s been in there for hours.’ There was a pause. ‘Okay. Bye.’ She put the phone down. ‘He’s coming right over.’
33.
Julian was pale-faced and tight-lipped when he arrived at the manor. ‘Is she still in there?’
‘Yes,’ Gertie said. ‘She’s never done anything like this before. I’m not really sure what happened. We found this old photo of Mum and Celeste just went all weird and then bolted.’
‘I’ll go and talk to her,’ Julian said, leaving Gertie and Evie standing in the hallway as he sprinted down the corridor.
‘Celeste?’ Julian’s voice called through the closed door, breaking her out of her thoughts. ‘It’s me, Julian.’
She had been standing by the window, looking out into the garden, but now she turned back into the room and cursed her sisters, who must have called him.
‘Are you in there?’ Julian called. ‘Can you open the door for me? I want to talk to you.’
‘Go away, please,’ she said, her voice croaky.
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he said. ‘I’m staying right here until you open this door.’
She didn’t move.
‘Celeste?’ Julian called again. ‘There are people on this side of the door who care about you.’ There was a pause – a long pause – and Celeste wondered if he was going to either give up or try to break the door down, but he did neither. Instead, she heard him clear his throat. ‘And there’s one who might even be a little in love with you.’
Celeste blinked hard. Had she heard him right? Had he just said he was in love with her? She stared at the solid door that stood between them.
‘So, are you going to let me in or am I going to talk to this door all evening?’ Julian’s voice said.
Celeste swallowed hard, quite sure that Julian was both willing and able to do just that, so she walked slowly across the room and unlocked the door.
‘Hey,’ he said as he saw her.
‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Gertie rang you, didn’t she?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘She’s really worried about you.’ Celeste stood to one side and Julian entered the room. ‘Do you want to tell me what this is all about?’ he asked, closing the door behind him but not locking it. ‘Celeste?’
She took a deep breath. ‘I found a photograph,’ she said.
‘Gertie mentioned that. Do you want to show me?’ he asked.
She walked across to the desk, picked up the photograph and handed it to him.
‘Is this your mother?’ he asked and Celeste nodded.
‘Go on – say it,’ she said. ‘Everybody else does.’
‘Say what?’ Julian asked.
‘That she’s beautiful.’
Julian’s eyes widened. ‘Well, I suppose she is,’ he said, squinting at the picture. ‘It isn’t the first word I’d use to describe her, though.’
‘No? What word would you use?’ Celeste asked.
‘Proud,’ Julian said. ‘Proud and vain. Look at the way she’s holding her head.’
‘She’s trying to appear taller than she is,’ Celeste said. ‘She often did that
in photos. Gertie and I were taller than her, you see. We took after Dad and Mum hated that. She was always complaining that we were taller than her.’
Julian gave a wry grin. ‘That seems like a strange thing to worry about.’
Celeste nodded in agreement. ‘It was always about looks. She was forever fiddling with her hair or adjusting her clothes or looking into reflective surfaces. She could never truly live in the moment because she was always worried about other people’s perceptions of her.’
‘So why has this photo caused you to lock yourself in here?’
Celeste didn’t know what to say. How could she explain just how the picture had made her feel?
‘It’s only half the photograph,’ she said at last, deciding to start from the beginning. ‘See where she’s cut it?’
Julian looked again. ‘Ah, yes,’ he said.
‘Gertie, Evie and I were standing next to her.’
Julian looked up at Celeste. ‘She cut you all out?’
Celeste nodded.
‘Why did she do that?’
She shrugged. ‘I can only attempt to understand,’ she said, ‘but I remember that day. Gertie and Evie don’t, and perhaps it’s just as well. Mum had been drinking a lot of champagne and had been flirting with this man. He’s the one who took the photo.’
‘Wasn’t your dad there?’
‘Oh, yes, but he was . . . I’m not really sure where he was. Trying to find a quiet corner of the garden away from Mum, I suppose. Anyway, this guy kept telling Mum how beautiful she was and how it was impossible that she had three children, and Mum was just lapping it all up, saying how she’d sacrificed so much to have us and that she sometimes wondered if it was all worth it.’
‘Oh, Celeste,’ Julian said. ‘That’s awful.’
She nodded. ‘But you know what bothers me most? What did she do with us when she cut us out of the picture? Did she cut us up into tiny little pieces or did she burn us? Maybe she shredded us!’
‘Celeste –’ Julian reached out and held her shoulders in his hands.
‘We didn’t really matter to her, did we?’ she cried. ‘Why couldn’t she love us? Why?’
‘Because that wasn’t possible for her,’ Julian said. ‘You know that, don’t you? You do understand that now? It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anything that you or Gertie or Evie did or said. You couldn’t have changed her.’
‘I know,’ Celeste whispered. ‘I know these things now but it doesn’t make the pain go away.’
Julian shook his head. ‘That will take time and there will be days like this when it all comes tumbling back into your head – just when you think you’ve got a handle on things. But I know you can get through this and I want to help you. I want you to know I’m here for you.’
She looked up at him. ‘Even though I pushed you away?’
‘Celeste – you could push me into the moat and I’d still come back to you.’
She gave a little laugh and a big sniff. ‘I’m so sorry, Julian.’
‘It’s okay. Just promise to talk to me next time. I want to know what’s going on in here,’ he said, tapping her forehead gently. ‘You’ve got to open up about these things. You’ve got to let them out.’
Suddenly, a strange light came into his eyes and he turned to look at the desk and the chair on the other side of it.
‘What do you want to say to her?’ he asked.
Celeste frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘If she was here now – what would you say to her?’
‘I wouldn’t say anything,’ Celeste said, looking puzzled.
Julian moved round to the other side of the great Victorian desk and pulled Penelope’s chair out from behind it.
‘What are you doing?’ Celeste asked, instantly on her guard.
‘Talk to her,’ he said. ‘She’s sitting here right now, ready to listen to you.’
‘No, Julian – don’t!’ Celeste said. ‘I can’t!’
‘Yes you can! Talk to her! Tell her how you feel!’
Celeste’s heart was racing as she looked into Julian’s face. He was completely and utterly serious about this.
‘Go on, Celly! Tell her how you feel!’
Celeste’s breathing was wild and ragged and her mouth had gone quite dry but something was stirring deep inside her.
‘I want to know,’ she began slowly, ‘I really want to know why you had us when you didn’t want to get to know us – when you didn’t love us? Why, Mum? Why? And how could you say all those things to us? Couldn’t you see the damage you were doing? Couldn’t you see how much pain you were causing? Or did that not matter to you? Didn’t you care about anyone other than yourself? Was that it?’ she cried. ‘God! I wish I could understand this and I’m trying – I’m really trying – but I just feel so helpless. I’m mad too. I’m so mad with you for still making me feel like this even when you’re dead!’
Suddenly, the energy that had been driving her seemed to ebb away and she broke down, the tears flowing from her eyes in uncontrolled torrents.
‘It’s okay,’ Julian said, moving towards her so he could hold her in his arms and stroke her dark hair. ‘It’s okay. You’ve been locking all this pain away for so many years.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said between sobs. ‘I didn’t mean to –’
‘To what?’ he said. ‘Don’t apologise, for heaven’s sake! You needed to release all that, and I know how awful you must be feeling right now but it’ll have done you the world of good. I’m sure of it.’
‘But I should have been able to cope better with all this,’ she said, drying her eyes on the sleeve of her blouse.
‘But that’s what you have been doing. Don’t you see? You’ve been trying to cope on your own for so long and that’s not good for anybody. You’ve got to share all this stuff otherwise you’ll go out of your mind.’
‘I know,’ she said, her head resting on his shoulder, ‘and I will. I promise.’
‘Good,’ he said, his hand firm yet gentle as it continued to stroke her hair.
They stood like that in the middle of the study for some time before Celeste spoke again.
‘Everything’s changing so fast,’ she said. You know Evie’s going to have a baby?’
‘Is she?’
‘And Lukas – that’s the father – is moving in to be with her. We’ve got Esther living here now and then there’ll be your antiques business too.’
‘You mean you’re still up for that?’ Julian asked, leaning back so that he could look at her face.
She nodded. ‘Of course,’ she said, and Julian grinned. ‘But it’s going to be chaos here with all these people coming and going and a baby too and –’
‘But that’s good, isn’t it?’ Julian interrupted. ‘That’s just what this old house needs – a bit of chaos and noise. It’s life!’
‘It makes me anxious,’ Celeste said.
‘But it shouldn’t,’ Julian told her. ‘It just means there’ll be more people around to help you with everything.’ He grinned. ‘I’m so glad you’re not going to sell this place. I know it holds a lot of bad memories for you but I also know that it holds a lot of good ones too. I’ve seen the look on your face when you remember them. You love this place.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘You’ve helped me to realise that.’
‘And you can make it work too. I know you can.’
Celeste gave a wry smile. ‘Why can’t I see things like you do? You always see the positive and I always focus on the problems!’
‘I’ll teach you,’ he said, ‘and I think we should start with this room.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, just look at it! It’s so dark and gloomy in here,’ he said, leaving her side as he paced around the study. ‘Don’t you think so?’
‘I – er –’
‘It needs some changes,’ he said, running his fingers along the dusty old bookshelves. ‘Some drastic changes. Starting with these curtains, right?’
‘Well, I –’
Before she could finish her sentence properly, Julian had ripped the ancient curtains down, pulling on the great weight of them until they landed in a heavy, dusty heap on the floor of the study, with the curtain pole and a good deal of plaster clattering down in its wake.
Celeste looked at him in bewildered astonishment.
‘Ooops,’ he said, a shy smile brightening his face.
‘Julian!’ Celeste cried, her hands flying to her mouth.
He crossed the room towards her. ‘Listen to me,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘You’re not doing yourself any favours locking yourself away in this room. It’s oppressing you. You’re not allowing yourself to be you in here. You’ll always be a daughter in this room and that’s not good enough. You’ve got to be your own person, Celeste. You’re worth that. You’ve got to let yourself live.’
She stood staring at him, her eyes wide and frightened. ‘But I –’
‘Get rid of the curtains. Get rid of all these dusty old books –’
‘But the books are important for business.’
‘But you don’t need them in here, do you?’ Julian said. ‘I’m not suggesting that you get rid of them – just put them somewhere else where they’re not reminding you of the past all the time. Don’t you want to do that? Don’t you want to make this room yours?’
She stared at him for what seemed like an eternity and then she nodded as a huge bubble of excitement built up inside her.
‘Listen,’ he said, ‘I got you a little something. Wait right there!’ He left the room and she heard him running down the corridor into the hallway. ‘Yes,’ she heard him say. ‘She’s okay. No – not yet. Give me a moment with her, okay?’ She imagined Gertie and Evie waiting in the hallway to make sure that she was all right and, as much as she wanted to see them and to apologise to them, hug them and tell them that she loved them and that everything was going to be all right because they weren’t going to sell the manor, she stood fixed to the spot because Julian had told her to stay right where she was.
The Rose Girls Page 29
