The Rarest Rose

by I Beacham

  Kiernan left Dot’s earlier than she wanted to. She liked Dot a lot, and her conversations were—different. But it had started snowing as she’d arrived there, and as the afternoon had progressed, it was coming down thicker and heavier. Kiernan wasn’t sure how bad the roads would be. Her sports car didn’t do well in snow, and it was already dark.

  She made a conscious decision to drive over to Ele’s. She knew she could have gone home and then phoned her to find out how the talk with Roger had gone, but she needed to see her. Suddenly, that was crucially important.

  It was like a penny dropping. Everything seemed clear to Kiernan. Maybe Dot’s no-nonsense approach to life—her philosophy—was rubbing off on her. She saw now that Chrissie’s inability to commit was after years of going out with her. Kiernan was being unfair to Ele. They’d only known each other a short time, and yet, she was demanding Ele show her more of a declared intention. Kiernan was looking for a relationship, up front with a guarantee. How stupid. If Ele was willing to risk loving her, after years of entrenched devotion to a memory, why couldn’t she be brave?

  Chapter Twenty-four

  It was dark by four o’clock, and Ele watched as one small inconsequential snowflake fell outside her sitting room window as she went to close the curtains. By the time she went upstairs to fetch her slippers and a warm jumper, the ground was already white and the air thick with flakes. All afternoon, the man on the radio warned that a big storm was coming in and that Oxfordshire could expect at least four inches of snow by early evening, and then more overnight. He said that if the warm front met the cold one, and if the expected easterly wind came in from across Europe, then people should expect blizzard conditions. He warned that the early morning commute tomorrow would be treacherous.

  Ele clapped her hands together with glee. She loved snow. Christmas was less than a week away, and it never felt right without it. There was something wonderful about a warm fire crackling, blazing away in the hearth, while everything outside was deep, and crisp, and even. Her adoration of snow was dampened only as she realized Roger would not be able to return the seat until the weather improved. Her thoughts turned grim. What if she was wrong about the stone seat? What if she was trapped in the house by the snow where she could not get out, and no one could get to her? What if the haunting continued? She would be alone with a ghost. She shivered. She had not thought of this. Maybe the snowfall was not so wonderful after all.

  It was gone seven o’clock as she sat downstairs. She had been reading the newspaper in front of the fire, but now her head was tilted back, and she was resting in the armchair Beth always favored. She heard the fire pop and it occurred to her that this was the same fireplace that Beatrice Lavish, Dot’s mother, once made up for the Staffords. Had they sat in front of its warm embers as she did now? Of course they had. What memories old houses held of their past.

  She closed her eyes in comfort and enjoyed the still and quiet surrounding her. Unexpectedly, her peace was broken as she heard a muffled crunching of gravel.

  *

  Kiernan stepped into the house with more haste than she wanted to show. It was bitter cold outside. She rubbed her hands. She’d had the car heater on the highest setting as she had driven over, and stepping out of her warm chariot into the cold night air was not enjoyable. Ele bolted the door at the top and bottom.

  “You’re sure those bolts are across?” It was a night for keeping ghosts out, and heat in.

  Ele glanced back at her. So, they were both still nervous.

  “You shouldn’t have driven over in this,” Ele said, but Kiernan heard the genuine joy in her voice. It reassured her that what she had come here to do tonight, was right. She crossed over to the fire, thrusting her hands close.

  “I’m amazed you managed to get up the drive.” Ele’s sweet voice stopped her meditation.

  “So am I.” Kiernan was amazed too. The drive had been okay en route to Dot’s, but coming back, it had been awful. There were times when she thought she wasn’t going to make it. She’d never taken much notice of how many hills and slight inclines there were on the roads over here—not until she had to drive up them in snow. She dug a hand into her coat pocket and passed Ele an envelope containing photos. “These are the copies. I’ve returned the originals to Dot.”

  Ele looked impressed. She took Kiernan’s jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. “Would you like a drink? I was about to have a sherry.”

  They looked at each other, aware of the significance of that drink in this house’s past.

  “Please.”

  Ele moved gracefully across the room and extracted two glasses from a sideboard. Kiernan watched as her hand, covered with the slightest smidgeon of paint, poured sherry from a decanter standing on a silver platter atop a fine piece of furniture.

  “You’ve been doing your water colors,” Kiernan said.

  “Wrong. I’ve been trying to do my water colors.” Ele handed her a sherry, beckoning with her eyes for her to sit down. “Somehow, working in my studio has lost its allure.”

  “Ghosts will do that,” Kiernan said as she sipped her drink and watched Ele drop onto a sofa.

  “It only takes one,” Ele said more to herself.

  Kiernan couldn’t imagine how Ele was able to return home after all that had happened. She admired her tenacity and inner strength. It prompted her to find out how the rest of Ele’s day had gone. “I was wondering if you managed to have your chat with Roger.”

  Ele recounted all, and Kiernan listened with fascination. Maybe—just maybe—they were on the right trail.

  “This may be a false lead,” Ele said, “but my instinct tells me it isn’t. Anyway, I suppose I won’t know that answer until Roger delivers the seat.”

  “That isn’t going to happen anytime soon, looking at this weather front moving in.” Kiernan immediately wished she had kept her mouth shut. Her comment made Ele look miserable.

  Neither spoke for a while and the silence only broke when Ele chipped in, “I don’t suppose you looked at any of your photos again and have had any thoughts about the stone seat?”

  Kiernan thought of Stafford’s pointing finger. “I did, but there’s nothing new to add except to agree that his focus is drawn to the general area of where the seat once was. I think you’re on to something.”

  “I can’t believe this might all be something as simple as my removing an old stone seat.” Ele clearly found her discovery incongruent and uncomfortable.

  “But it isn’t just any stone seat.” As Kiernan spoke, Ele regarded her curiously. “It’s a piece of stone, true enough, something cut out of a wall of rock and given an attractive shape. It started life as inanimate matter, something lifeless and inorganic, but then it came here and became saturated with love, hope, sadness, and loss. It became the key focus where two young people expressed their feelings of love, and the bitterness of parting, and where they made a promise to each other that they would think of the other every day while they were apart.”

  Kiernan had also thought of this as she’d driven back from Dot’s. “We talk about places holding memories, of houses too. I talk to my car because, to me, it’s an important part of my life. I wonder if this inanimate piece of stone became sentient as it listened to a young woman praying for the return of her lover, and then crying for his loss. If that’s true, did it grow lonely when that woman no longer sat on it every day, and would it have understood where she’d gone? Why it rested there alone? If it was conscious, how did it feel when John Stafford passed away on it, grieving for his wife?”

  Ele’s eyes glistened. “You’re quite the poet, you know.”

  “I’m Irish; it’s in our blood,” she said softly, unable to take her eyes off Ele. No, she thought, I can’t let you go.

  “Do you really believe that memories linger in places, in objects?” Ele asked.

  The way it was said, Kiernan knew a serious answer was sought. She held the top of her glass between two fingers and studied the color of its c
ontents like a forensic scientist. “I didn’t believe in ghosts a few months back, Ele, but I do now.”

  She looked up and caught Ele studying her like she did her sherry. Something passed between them, and in the corresponding silence, Kiernan knew the time was right, to say what had brought her over to see Ele—the key reason. Everything had suddenly made sense to her as she’d left Dot’s. It was something that couldn’t wait. “I think it’s my turn to apologize. I’m sorry, Ele. I’ve been a complete idiot trying to push you away.”

  “No. I’ve been the idiot. You accused me of blowing hot and cold, and it’s true. I called you Beth.” Ele shook her head in disbelief.

  “I know, but we’re not giving ourselves time, are we? We can’t expect our pasts to disappear in a puff of smoke. Whether we like it or not, I have to get over Chrissie, not let what happened between us ruin my future. You have to learn to let Beth go—”

  “I am ready, Kier. I know I am.”

  Kier smiled. “We deserve a shot at love. We should be listening to what John Stafford is telling us. Lost love—it’ll haunt us all our days if we don’t try.”

  “Are you ready?” Ele asked.

  “Yes, I am.” She couldn’t tear her eyes from Ele’s. It was as though there was a secondary communication going on between them. Some subtext that spoke of distorted things straightening. She noticed Ele’s finger no longer wore the ring. Ele caught her look and silently gestured its significance. “If we can sort Stafford out, I’m sure we can work something out.” Ele’s eyes watered. Kiernan crossed over to the sofa, sat beside her, and took her in her arms.

  “I’ve been so scared, Kier.” Ele’s voice sounded muffled against her shoulder. “After the pub when you drove off, and then yesterday, what you said—”

  “Didn’t say,” Kier said. How could she have been so hard as to not respond to Ele’s heart renderings?

  “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “But you haven’t, Ele.” They hugged tighter.

  “What changed your mind?”

  Kiernan drew back, starting to laugh. “Dot Harding.”

  “Dot?” Ele looked puzzled.

  “It’s a long story, and one I’d rather tell you later. But let’s just say the old bird has got a great philosophy in life.” She relaxed back into Ele’s arms, pulling her close and feeling the welcoming warmth of their bodies together. This felt so right. To think she’d almost let Ele go. What a fool she’d been. “We’ll have to tell her, you know.”

  “Eh?”

  “Tell Dot,” Kier said. “Tell her what’s been happening. She deserves that. I mean, if this all works out, it’ll be because of her.”

  “We’ll have to have her over here.”

  Kier nodded. “She’ll love seeing this place—where her mother had such memories. I wonder if she’s ever been here?”

  Ele shook her head. “No idea, but we’ll ask her over for dinner.”

  “You’ll cook?” Kier said.

  “I will. She’s a friend!”

  They embraced for a long time before Ele drew back, taking Kiernan’s hands in hers. She sighed as she glanced over to the window.

  “Kier, I don’t think you’ll be going far this evening, not given the weather.” She looked down at their hands. “I want you to stay the night.”

  “But?” Kiernan heard something unspoken.

  Ele looked at her. “I love you, and I want nothing more than to express that love, to be with you. But I hope you understand why I can’t, not here in this house, not yet.”

  “Memories? A house that remembers?” This was the house where Ele and Beth had loved, where they had kissed, and where their lives had grown closer together like a climbing rose up trellis. Ghosts existed in many forms, and Beth’s was somewhere here, either in the air that moved around them, or burrowed forever in Ele’s mind. Kiernan knew that to ask Ele to make love to her here, for the first time, it wouldn’t be right.

  “We can wait, darling.” There would be a time when they would make love within the walls of this house, but not yet. There was a time for everything if you were patient. “Will Beth allow a kiss?”

  The expression in Ele’s eyes said it all, and Kiernan leaned in. She started with a gentle, chaste kiss. Ele responded, and Kiernan kissed her harder. The passion and heat grew as their tongues danced. Ele moved even closer to her. Kiernan savored how good it felt to be so near to Ele this way. She longed for more, but pulled back. She would honor Ele’s request.

  “Another sherry?” Ele’s breath was labored.

  “Another sherry,” Kiernan said.

  That night, the snow fell deep, and a north wind blew. She and Ele slept in the same bed, spooned together. Ele had decided that Beth’s ghost could accommodate them sharing a bed. Kiernan silently thanked Beth.

  She slept a deep and satisfying sleep. She only woke once, to the sound of distant tapping. She ignored the noise and wrapped Ele’s arms closer around her. Sleep reclaimed her and she thought no more.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  It was the morning before Christmas Eve as Ele moved around in her kitchen. She glanced across at Kier who was eating toast and drinking coffee. Weeks earlier, consumed with guilt, Ele had longed for this. Now her repressed dreams had come true. She was deliriously happy. They had spent several days together, trapped in the house by the weather. Ele thanked the snowfall.

  They had not made love in all this time. Kier continued to respect Beth’s memory. Ele loved her for this even though her body cried out for more. Yet such a bond had grown between them. They slept together and touched each other liberally. They embraced and kissed as often as their lungs would allow.

  Making love was important, but sometimes Ele thought it overrated, as if it was the pinnacle and “must have” of any meaningful relationship. She didn’t doubt how essential it was, but it wasn’t everything. She and Kier spoke of this. Both agreed that while making love was natural and fueled by desire, intimacy was more important. It was the revelation of mind and spirit coming together, a deep bonding of souls. When the sex receded, as it often did over time, it was what remained of intimacy that was crucial. They had laughed one night as, both frustrated, they concluded that intimacy between them was now firmly established. They were ready for the next stage.

  Ele felt an incredible closeness to Kier, and the way Kier looked at her, she knew she felt the same. She edged up close behind her and stole the toast that was half eaten in her hand.

  “Hey, that’s mine.”

  “What’s mine is yours, and yours, mine.” Ele finished the toast.

  “I call it theft.” Kier moved around and hugged Ele. “It’s just as well I’m going home today or I might starve.” This morning, she announced that as the snow had stopped and the sunshine reappeared, she needed to return to her place, as there was something she had to do. Ele licked the butter from her fingers. Kier had asked her to spend Christmas at her place and she had accepted.

  Kier stood in the hallway about to leave when a heavy rumbling sound reverberated from outside the house. Its noise sent Feathers darting up the stairs. When they looked, they saw a truck turning in the driveway and backing up by the side of the kitchen.

  “It’s Roger.” Ele was surprised. She grabbed a heavy jacket and gloves and rushed out the kitchen door with Kier close behind. Roger and two muscular men vacated the truck.

  “Delivery,” Roger said, smiling at Ele. He glanced toward the back of the truck and she saw the stone seat sat beneath a winching device. “Where would you like it placed?”

  “I didn’t think you’d be able to do this before Christmas.” Ele was unable to hide her elation.

  “Neither did I, but with this break in the weather I thought we should take every opportunity to get it up here. I won’t be able to remove any cobblestones and seat it in firmly until better, warmer weather arrives, but we can at least put it where it needs to go.”

  She took no time showing Roger and his team an old sepia photo to
help them pinpoint the seat’s former position. Then with Kier, she watched as a coordinated effort between the three men began. They lifted, swung, and painstakingly moved the stone seat as Roger checked the photo continually to ensure accuracy. He seemed to sense its importance. Twenty minutes later, the truck and the men left.

  “So this is it, then,” Kier said, looking at the seat, sat in a ray of sunshine, snow all around it. “There’s no denying that it’s a handsome piece of stonework.”

  “This is it.” Ele stood back and studied it as Kier brushed up behind her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Ele tilted her head until her cheek touched the hand. “I wonder if this is what it’s all been about—a missing love seat.”

  She left the warmth of Kier’s hand and moved slowly around the seat, regarding it closely. “When the better weather comes, I’m going to plant some little rose bushes around it…make it look like it used to.”

  Wanting to show Kier what she meant, she darted over to the garden refuse area and extracted two dead rosebushes, ones she had planned to put in the borders by her wisteria. They were in large black plastic pots and resembled a collection of lifeless twigs rather than the glorious roses once envisioned. She positioned them either side of the seat. “I’ll do something like this, maybe have half a dozen around it.”

  “It’ll look pretty.”

  “I think it will. Isn’t it funny? I never liked this seat before, and yet now I can’t believe I ever wanted to let it go.” She ran her hand across the top of it. “You know, Kier, I have the strangest, strongest feeling that I’ve done the right thing.” She edged forward and sat on the seat, gently testing its balance on the uneven cobbled brickwork and thick snow. It held firm, and she relaxed.

  “Wait there, and don’t you move.” Kier dashed inside. She reappeared moments later with a camera. “You have no idea how stunning you look with the sun bouncing off your hair and catching the color of your eyes. This is a picture in a million.”