Victoria Connelly - The Rose Girl

by Unknown

‘You know why.’

  The sisters stared at each other for a long time before the tears rose into Gertie’s eyes.

  ‘Oh, sweetheart!’ Celeste was on her feet in a second and had rounded the table to take her sister in her arms, embracing her as huge sobs wracked her body.

  ‘He told me he loved me!’ she cried. ‘He said we were going to be together and I believed him.’

  She continued to cry and Celeste continued to hold her, waiting until she was ready to say more.

  ‘I wish you’d told me,’ Celeste said eventually.

  Gertie gave a big sniff before wiping her eyes with a tissue from out of her apron pocket and looking at her sister. ‘You didn’t tell me about what happened with Julian,’ she said.

  Celeste nodded. ‘Ah, yes,’ she said, ‘and Evie didn’t tell us about the baby.’

  They looked at each other with sadness in their eyes but tiny smiles on their faces.

  ‘We seem to be very good at keeping secrets from each other,’ Gertie said, giving her nose a fierce blow.

  ‘I wonder why,’ Celeste said with a touch of irony.

  ‘Because Mum never let us talk about our feelings?’ Gertie said.

  Celeste nodded. ‘Whenever I tried to tell her anything important to me, she’d just brush me off. It was impossible to get close to her and open up.’

  ‘But we mustn’t become like that,’ Gertie said. ‘Not ever.’

  ‘I know,’ Celeste said. ‘So are you going to tell me what’s been going on with James?’

  Gertie took a deep breath and the two of them sat down at the kitchen table, and Celeste listened to her sister open up about the man she’d fallen in love with.

  ‘I finally managed to talk to him this afternoon,’ she said, bringing the story up to date. ‘He’s been offered a job in France. I said I’d go with him. Can you believe that? I was going to give all this up here just so I could be with him, but he said he owes it to Samantha to make things work. He said the climate will do her the world of good and they want to make a fresh start of things.’

  ‘Oh, Gertie. I’m so sorry.’ Celeste reached across the table to hold her sister’s hand.

  ‘He’d said he was unhappy. He’d told me he couldn’t live without me and that Samantha made him miserable. Was he lying all that time? Was he just using me?’

  Celeste bit her lip. ‘I think maybe he was exaggerating the truth,’ she said.

  ‘I thought he loved me, Celly. I thought we had a future together.’ Tears welled up in her dark eyes again but she managed to hold them back this time. ‘I’ve been so stupid! I should never have got involved with someone who was married! Why did I do that to myself? Why?’

  ‘Because you’re a romantic,’ Celeste told her. ‘You’re led by the heart rather than the head – you always have been.’

  ‘Well, he’s broken my heart so I guess I won’t be making that mistake again.’

  Celeste watched as she got up and began to scrape all the bread dough from the table into one big messy heap.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

  ‘Binning it,’ Gertie said. ‘It wouldn’t be very good anyway. I forgot to add the yeast.’

  32.

  It was the next morning when Evie came charging into the study without so much as knocking on the door.

  ‘Why are Tennyson’s Love Poems floating in the moat?’ she said.

  Celeste looked up from an invoice she was trying to decipher. ‘They must belong to Gertie. Did you rescue them?’

  ‘No. They’re kind of half-stuck on a lily pad, though, if she wants to try and reach it.’

  ‘I’m not sure she’ll want to. The moat might be the best place for it.’

  ‘Did you find out what’s bugging her?’ Evie asked.

  ‘It’s a who rather than a what, and his name’s James Stanton,’ Celeste said.

  ‘You mean –’

  ‘Yep,’ Celeste said.

  ‘Then he was having an affair all this time!’ Evie said, a light in her eyes. ‘Jeepers! I’d never have guessed it would be with our Gertie!’

  Celeste shook her head. ‘Look – don’t make a big scene about it, okay? She had real feelings for him.’

  ‘Well, he’s a good-looking guy,’ Evie said, flopping down into their mother’s chair. ‘A complete sod, obviously, but pretty handsome. Poor Gertie! It’s a good job he’s left Little Eleigh already or I’d punch him in the nose.’

  Celeste sighed. ‘That wouldn’t solve anything.’

  ‘Maybe not, but it would be the right thing to do,’ Evie said.

  ‘Evelyn, you’ve really got to put a stop to this whole doing the right thing business. It always gets you into trouble.’

  Evie sighed and her hand rested on her belly.

  ‘You okay?’ Celeste asked.

  ‘Yes, Aunt Celly, I’m fine,’ Evie said, raising a smile from her sister. ‘Well, I was a bit sick this morning but I’m okay now.’

  ‘Can you feel anything yet?’

  ‘Just indigestion,’ Evie said. ‘Gertie’s going to make me a big vat of peppermint tea and she’s expecting me to drink it all. Disgusting.’

  Celeste smiled. ‘She’s put me on a strict rotation of lemon balm and camomile to counter stress.’

  ‘Holy herbal!’ Evie said.

  ‘But listen,’ Celeste said, ‘you mustn’t tell anybody about Gertie and James, okay?’

  ‘Don’t say it would have brought disgrace to our family,’ Evie said, suddenly serious.

  Celeste looked shocked as she remembered the frequent reprimand of their mother. ‘I’d never say that,’ she said. ‘Never!’

  ‘Okay,’ Evie said, placated by her sister’s look of total horror.

  ‘But we live in a small village and you know what it can be like, don’t you? Gertie’s such a private person and it would be awful if she became the victim of malicious gossip. I think it would break her.’

  Evie had the good sense to nod. ‘Poor Gertie,’ she said again. ‘Shall I go and talk to her?’

  ‘If you can find her,’ Celeste said.

  It was late in the afternoon when the three sisters all found themselves in the living room. Earlier, Evie had found Gertie in a corner of the walled garden cuddling one of her hens and crying into its feathers, and the sisters had a good heart to heart before working companionably together and then heading into the house.

  ‘It’s too hot to do any more work,’ Evie complained, flopping on to a sofa, her blonde hair flattened against her head where she’d been wearing a sun hat. ‘At least I’ve dealt with the order from Mrs Peters. Her husband’s coming to collect it all tomorrow.’

  ‘And I’ve attacked the greenfly problem. Poor Madame Pierre Oger was smothered!’ Gertie said.

  ‘And I’ve cleared yet more paperwork,’ Celeste said. ‘I can finally see some of the desk now.’

  Her sisters smiled.

  ‘Well, as soon as you’re done, you can help us out in the garden,’ Gertie said.

  ‘Yes, there’s that troublesome border with the bindweed you can help us with,’ Evie said.

  ‘Wow, thanks!’ Celeste said and they all laughed.

  Celeste’s eyes roamed the room, resting on the auction catalogue which Julian had brought. She leaned forward and picked it up, acknowledging the fact that Julian had held it, too, not so long ago. Her mind spiralled over the time they’d spent together – brief snips of days snatched from busy working schedules. Would they have fared better if they’d spent more time together, Celeste wondered? But she’d been convinced she hadn’t wanted that. Why, oh why had she been such a fool? Why hadn’t she seen what a special man he was? And why hadn’t she realised just how deep her feelings were for him until it was too late?

  ‘You really should call him,’ Gertie said.

  Celeste put the catalogue down. ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘I really miss him,’ Evie said. ‘I would have liked him as a brother-in-law.’

  ‘Evie!’ Celeste crie
d, rolling her eyes.

  ‘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 gr
in. ‘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.’