While Harry waited for Rosie, he strode up and down the pathway.
At one point he noticed a woman standing by a tree, not too far from where he had been waiting. She looked rather lonely, aged probably in her early thirties, or thereabouts. Harry thought her quietly attractive with her long brown hair swooped up in a whirl and tied with a delicate little blue ribbon.
She was dressed in a knee-length light-green coat, and wearing dark ankle boots. Dangling from her wrist was a small, chunky umbrella.
Harry couldn’t help but feel that she must be waiting for someone, but as far as he knew everyone had gone except for himself and Rosie.
He continued to pace up and down, and when he looked up again, the woman was nowhere in sight. She must have come to the wrong church, he thought. Poor thing.
When, a moment later, he saw Rosie coming down the path, he ran to meet Rosie. ‘Are you all right, my darling?’ Reaching out, he took her by the hand and walked her down to the gate. He knew she’d been crying because her eyes were red raw. ‘Come on, let’s get you to the village hall, eh?’
‘We’d best hurry,’ Rosie told him. ‘By now they’ll be wondering where we’ve got to.’ It was hard for her not to think all the time of her darling father, lying up there all alone in the dark earth.
As the two of them walked hand in hand towards the village hall, Harry forgot about the woman who had appeared rather lonely, back there in the churchyard.
The reception was not a morbid affair, although talk was muted and the sadness was highly evident in the hall. People ate and drank and toasted the life of John Tanner, and, with nervous approach, they talked to and hugged Rosie and the family.
When Patrick stood up to give a speech, there was not a dry eye to be seen. Instead, each and every one there was made to reflect on the fact that life was indeed precarious, although in each of them, the memory of John Tanner was bound to live on.
When it was time to leave, they left singly or in small groups: the village shopkeeper; the little widow who owned the flower shop; Fred Pearson, manager of the local garage – all glad to have had the chance to say a proper goodbye to their respected neighbour.
Soon it was time for the family to say a gracious thank-you to both the vicar and the lady who had organised the reception.
As the family made their way out, Rosie said, ‘I need to go back to the churchyard, just for a little while.’ She was missing her father so much, she could hardly breathe.
‘Do you want us to come back with you, sweetheart?’ That was Kathleen.
Rosie shook her head. ‘No, thank you, Auntie Kathleen, and I really don’t want to go home in the official car.’ Shuddering at the thought, she turned to her uncle. ‘Can we please get a taxi, Uncle Patrick?’
‘Of course, Rosie, love, if that’s what you want.’ He understood. ‘I’ll use the telephone in the hall to call a taxi to take you and Harry to the churchyard, then he can wait there for you and bring you home whenever you’re ready. Will that do?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
When the taxi arrived, Patrick and Kathleen hugged Rosie and Harry, then lingered a moment while they climbed inside. Patrick and Kathleen waved the young ones off until the taxi was out of sight, and then they too were heading off, but in the opposite direction.
‘Will they be all right?’ Patrick asked.
‘I’m sure they will,’ Kathleen replied, ‘but Rosie’s positively broken by what’s happened. Oh, Patrick, I don’t know how she will ever get through this.’
‘She’s her father’s daughter, my love.’ He took hold of her hand. ‘I know it won’t be easy, but Rosie will get through it – with our help and with Harry by her side.’
His remark raised another sorry point. Being aware of the driver up front, Kathleen lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘You do know they love each other, don’t you, Patrick? I mean, they really love each other.’
‘Yes, I have realised that,’ he replied, ‘and I’ve been thinking of having a serious talk with them. But with things the way they are at the moment, and Rosie having to cope with the loss of her father, it might be kinder if I left it just now. They are so very young yet. What do you think?’
‘Yes, I think that would be best.’
For the remainder of the drive home, Patrick was thinking about when he first met Kathleen, and then later when she said yes to his proposal of marriage. Over these past wonderful years, they had been so happy, and so much in love. He considered himself the luckiest man in the world. He only hoped Harry and Rosie would find the same kind of happiness.
PART FIVE
Revelations
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘ARE YOU SURE you’re all right on your own, Rosie?’
‘I think so.’ Now that they were actually in the churchyard, Rosie was experiencing so many emotions she felt totally lost. ‘I just need to be with him … just for a minute or two,’ she said in a shaky whisper. ‘I need to tell him how much I miss him, and how much I wish he was still here, talking and laughing with me, and just to see his smile once again would be so beautiful.’
Harry forced back his tears. ‘His smile will always be with us,’ he promised, ‘because you have it. You have his smile, and you have his goodness, and I will always look after you, Rosie.’
Rosie slid her hand into his, her eyes welling with tears. ‘You are the kindest person I know and I’m so glad I’ve got you as a cousin,’ she said.
Saddened by her innocent remark, Harry nodded.That was how she saw him: as her cousin. ‘I’ll go inside the church and light a candle for your father. Would you like that, Rosie? After I’ve lit the candle, I’ll wait at the church door for you.’
Rosie smiled on him, and then she turned away and went up the path.
Rosie turned her head to see him enter the church, and then she walked on towards her father’s resting place.
When she was within sight of the mound of floral tributes that marked her daddy’s grave, she paused, surprised to see someone was there, kneeling down, placing flowers.
Drawing nearer, she saw it was a woman, but she could not get a good look at her because her head was bent, and her light-brown hair was somewhat tousled about her face.
As Rosie came nearer, increasingly curious, she heard the woman softly crying. Her sadness touched Rosie’s heart.
For a long, confusing moment, Rosie wondered if she ought to go to the woman and ask her who she was.
Quietly, Rosie approached softly, until she could see the woman more easily. She appeared to be in her thirties, and she was reaching out to lay the prettiest posy of flowers on the grave, the gentlest smile on her sad face.
Curious as to who this woman was, Rosie quickened her steps until she was almost upon her. The woman was seemingly unaware of her presence.
Rosie stepped forward. ‘Who are you?’ she asked kindly.
The woman looked up and regarded Rosie with tear-filled eyes.
‘I’m sorry, but I think you may have the wrong place.’ Rosie gestured to the flowers. ‘This is my father’s grave.’
For what seemed an age, the woman looked at Rosie with such kindness that Rosie’s heart seemed to flip over, and then the woman spoke softly to her. ‘This is John Tanner’s grave, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then I’m not at the wrong place.’
Rosie had a fleeting memory of a distant figure often waiting at the school gates and seemingly watching her.
Tears were now running down the woman’s face, and when she slowly rose to stand before Rosie, she looked at her with such compassion that Rosie was taken by surprise.
‘You must be Rosie?’ the woman asked in the softest tone.
Somewhat confused, Rosie stepped back a pace. ‘Yes, I am … but I don’t know you. At least … I don’t think I do.’
The woman smiled though her brown eyes remained sad. ‘Of course you don’t. But I know you, Rosie. I’ve watched you grow from a toddler. I’ve stood outside th
e gates of your school. I’ve kept you in my heart all these years, and now I share your deep loss. John was a good and beautiful man, and I’m so sorry he’s gone.’ Her smile deepened. ‘But you’re here, Rosie, and so am I. And I know he would be happy about that.’
Rosie was now beginning to feel deeply uncomfortable. ‘How do you know me? Why did you watch me grow up … and who are you?’ Her fear turned to anger. ‘I want to know. Tell me, who are you?’
The woman hesitated as if she was momentarily sorry for saying the things she had said, but she somehow gathered her courage in order to tell this lovely girl why she was here.
‘Forgive me, Rosie,’ she hesitated, but then the words just fell softly out, ‘… I’m your mother.’
It was too much for Rosie to take on board, and fearful of this woman and what she was claiming, she fled down the path and across to the church. Then she was in Harry’s strong arms, babbling and crying, and trying to repeat what the woman had told her.
‘Woa!’ Harry walked her to a bench beside the church door and held her tight as he spoke softly. ‘Ssh, Rosie, be calm.’ A moment later, she was calm.
The woman, who had been standing a short distance away, came to them. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I should never have blurted it out like that. But I need Rosie to know who I am, and why I’m here. She deserves that much.’
Quieter now, Rosie sat on one side of Harry, and the woman sat down on the other side to explain herself.
‘John and I met a long time ago. We saw each other off and on for a while and I always thought we would get married, but Molly was a strong personality with an unusual wild beauty, and once he had met her she drew him in and he couldn’t resist her. Even after he married Molly, we still had feelings for each other, and although John told me that he had made a mistake in marrying her, it was too late.’
Both Rosie and Harry were dumbfounded.
‘Was my daddy really seeing you, even after he married her?’ Rosie asked the woman.
‘Yes. He loved her but she was so difficult to live with. He tried to leave her, but she always got him back. She was like a crazy woman when she found out about us.’
‘So how did she get him away from you? What did she do?’ Rosie wanted to know everything.
‘During the last time we were together, I got pregnant with you, Rosie. Your father didn’t know about you, because I didn’t want to put pressure on him, not until after you were born. I made up a story about not wanting him to cheat on his wife any more and I broke up our relationship.’ She paused to allow that to sink in. ‘Then my mother got taken very ill. She needed round-the-clock nursing, and there was no one to help her but me. My parents were divorced, and my father was travelling all the time with his work anyway. Also, I had two small brothers who needed me. It was so hard, but I couldn’t let them down. Eventually I couldn’t cope any more. That’s when I told your father he had a daughter.’
‘What happened?’ Rosie asked.
‘I took you to my heart, Rosie. I loved you from the first moment I saw you. It was very difficult … you can’t understand how hard it was. I was desperate. My family were in dire need of me, and after I had you my life became impossible, especially as my father had decided to stay abroad. When that happened, Mother got worse, and she died within the year. That’s when I had to turn to your father.’
She explained, ‘In the end, I had to tell John about you. That put him in a very difficult position, although he was thrilled to have you. He couldn’t stop cuddling you … oh, you should have seen the joy on his face the first time he saw you, Rosie.’
She took a deep breath. ‘He was so wonderful, and supportive. He said he would work something out, but that if he managed to persuade Molly to take you on, he would not be able to see me ever again. I agreed. He was married, and I had more than enough to deal with. It was a bad situation.’
Rosie listened while she went on. ‘I wanted to keep you, Rosie. But it was just too difficult, and I knew John would take good care of you. I was just seventeen, with so much responsibility that I could hardly breathe, let alone look after a new baby on top of everything else. Molly agreed to take you on as her own, but only if John signed over to her the cottage and five acres at the far end of the farm, the income from these to be paid entirely to her. Your father reluctantly agreed. She wanted more, but your father would not allow it. They kept the secret of your birth and the bargain they’d made.’
She assured Molly, ‘Your father adored you. There was no way he was going to let me have you adopted, something I had no choice but to consider if he could or would not help me.’
Reaching out, she touched Rosie gently on the hand, afraid to hold her in case Rosie rejected her altogether. ‘It’s been the hardest thing, seeing you and not being able to have you. But I knew you were safe with John. And we both loved you so much. We could not have loved you more.’
Rosie was deeply shaken by all this news. ‘That land was his father’s and his grandfather’s before him. How could he let her take it from him?’
‘Because he had held you in his arms, and he adored you from that moment, Rosie. Yes, your father was devastated by Molly’s demands, but he did not hesitate, not for one moment. You were everything to him, and he so wanted to raise you as his daughter. Molly got what she wanted, but your father thought it a small price to pay for having you in his life.’
For a long time, Rosie was silent; thinking and realising, and feeling so relieved. ‘Now I know why she hated me so much … why she liked to hurt me and make me cry.’
In a great surge of joy, she hugged this woman … this stranger who was her real mother. ‘Thank you …’ She could hardly talk for the emotions that were shaking her; she could hardly even think straight. ‘But I know now … why she wanted to hurt me. She said I was no good … that I would never be any good, and I believed her.’
Rosie got up and flung her arms about this woman, her real mother, warm and loving, and so sad about what she had had to do. ‘Thank you for telling me,’ Rosie said. ‘Thank you for making me realise that I am not bad, that I don’t deserve the worst things in life … like she always told me.’
Thrilled to his soul at Rosie’s news, Harry stood back while this woman held her child.
‘You’re a beautiful girl, Rosie,’ her real mother told her. ‘I know how proud your father was to have you with him … and he kept my secret for all those years. I only wish I could have done better for you. Please forgive me, Rosie?’
And because she felt this woman’s deep regret, Rosie promised her that there was nothing to forgive.
‘What’s your name?’ she asked.
‘It’s Rossalyn.’ She smiled. ‘Your daddy gave you a name that was very similiar to mine.’
Rosie thought of the woman who had hated her from as far back as she could remember. She wondered what Molly Tanner would say if she could see her standing here, with her own birth mother.
Shuddering at the thought of Molly Tanner and what that woman had done, Rosie felt heavy of heart. She wondered if, for her own sake and the sake of her loved ones, there might come a day when she felt able to put all behind her, where it surely belonged.
The lawyer was adamant. ‘I’m sorry, but there is nothing I can do. The terms were lawful … written and passed, and they will stand as long as there are Tanners.’
Having taken an instant dislike to this scheming murderer, he now found great satisfaction in revealing that what was cemented in law with regard to the Tanner properties could not be undone, except by a direct descendant of John Tanner. If Molly Tanner thought to contest the lawful deeds, she would get no further than this irrevocable document.
John Tanner had, after some small difficulty, secured the right to give her the small cottage and the parcel of farmland, and so Molly was not altogether penniless. That would be all she inherited. Everything else would go to John Tanner’s only child.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IN THE WEEKS that follow
ed, Rosie was finding it hard to come to terms with her beloved father’s death.
Keeping a close and loving eye on Rosie, Kathleen and Patrick treated her with the utmost kindness.They allowed her the space to grieve when she needed to, but also provided her with good company, and even a measure of laughter to help heal her crippling distress.
‘But what is Rosie’s new life to be?’ Kathleen asked Patrick one evening after Rossalyn had visited and had confided these thoughts to Rosie’s loving aunt.
‘My darlin’, does it matter just yet?’ he said. ‘That lovely young girl needs time and she needs space. She can stay here for as long as she likes, as far as I’m concerned.’
Kathleen replied in a quiet voice, ‘Thankfully, there’s a farmhouse and farm land waiting for her, and yet she hasn’t ever mentioned her home or the farm to me since that dreadful business.’
Harry assured them, ‘Rosie is still grieving. The last thing she would think about just now is her father’s farm. She’s still broken by her Daddy’s death. And besides, Uncle John’s men know their roles – the stable manager is in charge – and have turned up loyally to work every day since his death. There’s less to do on the land in winter anyway. She’s always loved the farm and she will go to it when she feels good and ready. Also, it would help her to look to the future.’
‘Do you think she could cope?’ Patrick was a little concerned.
‘Well at least she has us. We’ll all help her.’ Harry assured his father. ‘The trouble is, the longer she leaves it, the harder it will be for her.’
‘Harry’s right,’ said Kathleen. ‘She needs to go and look. Maybe we should take her over to the house for a couple of hours tomorrow, if she agrees. What d’you say?’
Patrick grinned at his wife. ‘I say that, as usual, you are right, Kathleen.’
Somewhat relieved, Kathleen planted a kiss on his rosy cheek. ‘Right! So we all agree that we’ll wait for Rosie to make the first move?’
Patrick nodded. ‘I think that’s the best plan, sweetheart, yes. But if she doesn’t mention it soon, it may be necessary to encourage her gently.’
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