‘Letter her sister wrote after Jane died; the one on the wall in that closet? Yeah, that got me, too.’
‘Yes, precisely. That always moves me, but that’s just it. It’s the only thing that usually brings me down in there. I’ve always felt such a warm, all-embracing contentment, as though I can feel Jane’s happiness at being back in her beloved Hampshire, in a small village, pouring out her creativity.’ She couldn’t tell Morgan all that had happened, of course, which must account for the bulk of her feelings, but all the same, she hadn’t expected the experience to be so… visceral.
‘Well, at least you’ve got a bit of time with Doctor Lovely now – enough to cheer anyone up! What?’ Morgan assumed an innocent expression.
Rose merely shook her head. They had come to the start of the driveway leading down to Chawton House, and Morgan rummaged around for her camera again.
Rose leaned on the wooden fence whilst her friend took a few shots. There seemed to be quite a few people milling around in the nearby churchyard. Perhaps she’d only get a few words with Aiden? After all, the cafe and pub both looked to be heaving, and they’d never find a seat to have a proper conversation.
‘Do you want to wait? I don’t think I’ll be long.’ Rose and Morgan had set off down the driveway together. ‘Look.’ Rose pointed ahead. ‘There are loads of people here – probably half the people who were at his talk yesterday. We can grab something to eat together?’
‘I’m not waiting for you; I’m only here to make sure you go.’
They had reached the gate into the churchyard now and stopped outside.
‘You were full of life yesterday, Rose; this is no time to backslide. And take down your hair, for God’s sake. You’re not in the office now.’ Morgan held out her hand for the hair clip, and Rose reached up to remove it before handing it over.
‘There.’ Morgan pocketed it, leaning forward to ruffle Rose’s curls as they tumbled over her shoulders. ‘Now you’re more you!’
‘I doubt he’ll notice the difference.’
Morgan shook her head. ‘Humbug. He already likes you; now you have to learn the same lesson as Jane Bennet, and give him a little encouragement.’
Rose almost laughed, but Aiden came around the side of the church then, several people in his wake, and her insides started doing somersaults. Morgan was right. This wasn’t the time to fall back into her old way of thinking. Then she glanced at her friend. ‘I think you need to take a dose of your own medicine.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Perhaps James needs a little encouragement; just because he’s not prone to being demonstrative doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel.’
‘Touché! It seems we are all fools in love after all.’
Was she more of a fool than ever, though? Rose bit her lip, staring at the people flocking around Aiden. He’d always seemed so unattainable; until Jane, that is. Until she’d had the chance to get to know the real man; let him see the real Rose.
‘Thinking of going over there anytime soon?’
Rose fidgeted with the strap on her bag before pulling it onto her shoulder. ‘Yes, yes I am.’ She didn’t move, and Morgan laughed.
‘Then start with one foot in front of the other. You’ll soon think of something to say. I mean, you know so much about his work, after all. Hey, you can build on that morning you spent helping him.’
‘But that was ages ago!’ Somehow, it felt like it was.
Morgan rolled her eyes. ‘Four days ago. Now, text me when you’re done with him. And don’t forget a word, I want to hear it all.’ Morgan turned to walk away, then called back over her shoulder, ‘There’s no room for caution here. Throw it to the winds.’
Rose watched Morgan making her way back down the drive. Caution? Okay, maybe before she’d always been cautious; but not now. You couldn’t be cautious and change the world, right? And that she had done, so how hard could this be?
Swinging around, she walked under the lychgate into the churchyard. Most of the people seemed to be leaving, and Aiden was left with two women who were clearly asking him to sign something. Rose hesitated, but then he looked up and caught her eye, and, taking a steadying breath, she walked towards him.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
‘Sorry.’ Finally free, Aiden walked over to where Rose stood. ‘Look, there’s been a slight hitch to my day. How long have you got?’
Rose glanced at her watch. ‘Until two? I’m on the afternoon tour.’ She gestured up towards Chawton House. ‘Meeting Morgan up there.’
‘Fine, fine.’ He seemed preoccupied, glancing over to where some of the dig team were sitting on the grass eating sandwiches, and she felt uncomfortable. Should she say something, make up a reason for leaving so he could be free of this commitment?
‘The cafe was heaving. There are a couple of coachloads in the village today. I doubt we’ll get anything quickly there, even if it’s just a cuppa.’
‘That’s all sorted.’ He dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand, then seemed to realise how grubby it was. ‘Heck. Can you hold on a minute?’
Rose had no time to respond, but as he walked away from her and she turned around, looking for somewhere to wait, she caught sight of the graves of the Austen ladies, tucked away at the back of the churchyard. The memorial stone Aiden had shown her in the photo was gone.
Rose went to sit on a nearby bench facing the fields, conscious of the curious gazes of Aiden’s colleagues. How was she to recapture the rapport that had seemed to fall so naturally between them back then?
She glanced over her shoulder as Aiden re-emerged from inside the church, wiping his hands on a towel. Unable to turn away, Rose watched him as he walked over to his discarded bag and dug around inside, clearly exchanging some banter with the team and chucking the towel unceremoniously at them as he walked back towards her.
Turning back to stare across the fields, Rose willed her cheeks not to fill with colour as she recalled the first time she’d become aware of him. It had been about five years ago; she’d had a severe bout of flu which had kept her off work for a week and, bored with her own company, she’d put the telly on as background noise whilst curled up on the sofa reading.
That was until his voice penetrated the imaginary world she was wrapped in. Looking up, she’d glanced over at the telly and the rest was history. The book was discarded, the remote snatched up from the coffee table and for the rest of her time off work, Rose had watched back-to-back repeats of Time Travellers as it played every weekday afternoon, hoping and hoping for another glimpse of him. Of course, her first real glimpse of him she preferred to pretend hadn’t happened. As for when she’d found out he was coming to stay in one of the flats they managed for the first time…
‘Er, Rose?’
Rose looked up with a start.
‘Sorry. Miles away.’
‘May I?’
He pointed to the bench.
‘Oh! Of course.’ She grabbed her bag so he could sit down, and then turned a little so she was facing him, not that he noticed because he was busy laying a piece of white sheeting on the bench between them.
‘I knew there’d be little enough time today, but I’m glad I was prepared now it’s even less.’ Before her eyes, he pulled a veritable feast from the carrier bag at his feet: a small selection of sandwiches, bags of crisps, cocktail sausages and some cherry tomatoes, along with a couple of bottles of water.
‘There!’ He sounded incredibly proud of his endeavours, and she laughed.
‘A picnic! This is thanks indeed, and well beyond the promised drink.’
‘Damn.’ Aiden glanced over to the other team members. ‘I meant to make a flask of coffee this morning! Let me see if…’ He made as if to get to his feet, but instinctively, Rose stayed him with her hand on his arm.
‘It’s okay; I don’t drink the stuff.’
He sat back slowly, and Rose, realising she was still holding his arm, withdrew her hand.
‘Ah, okay; it’s good I forgo
t, then.’ Rose frowned. ‘The coffee. I don’t drink it either.’
Rose laughed at his sheepish expression as he waved a hand at the spread between them.
‘Here – take something to eat. What d’you prefer? We have good old BLT, ham and egg mayo and’ – he glanced up at her – ‘because I had no idea whether you were vegetarian or not, cheese and pickle.’
Rose wasn’t sure she could eat a thing, but she took a triangle of bread from the spread before her and a couple of tomatoes.
They munched in contented silence for a few minutes, but as it stretched, Rose became aware of it and sought desperately for something, anything, interesting to say. She took a swig of cold water, her mind empty of suggestion until suddenly she recalled the ease of their conversation about his work and what had inspired him when they’d had drinks at Graze that night. Would that work? He’d never know he’d already told her, would he, and perhaps it would fool her into thinking it was the same Aiden – the one who’d seemed interested in her, who’d told her he liked her?
She took another gulp of water. ‘I know one of the ladies asked you this yesterday, but I didn’t hear…’ Rose faltered. She hadn’t taken in the response because she’d been too busy trying to look anywhere but at Aiden. She cleared her throat; he was looking expectantly at her now. ‘Would you – I mean, can you tell me a bit more about what drew you into archaeology? I think you said you started off studying history?’
He nodded and wiped his hands on the edge of the white cloth. ‘My fascination with the past wasn’t so much with the history in front of you, it was in what you couldn’t see; the hidden secrets. You could walk over a field in any part of Britain and never know the enigmas buried in its depths, come across a ruin and never see the beauty of how it once looked or hear the stories that might be concealed in its stones.’ As always when talking of his work, Aiden’s face was animated, his hands moving expressively, but then he stopped, looking self-conscious. ‘Sometimes you don’t realise what’s missing, what’s not there – do you know what I mean?’
Rose didn’t care what he meant; he could talk forever as far as she was concerned. Hell, he could read the phone directory aloud and she’d be happy listening to his voice. Shallow. You’re so shallow.
‘And so – what is the hitch today? Have you found something that was missing?’ She gestured over towards his team. They seemed to be clearing up their equipment rather than returning to work.
Aiden shrugged. ‘No, nothing.’ He glanced at his watch and sighed. ‘Look, I’m afraid I’ve got to head over to Winchester; got the call this morning; something I’ve been waiting on.’
‘Is it – are the two projects linked then? I’ve seen that on TV sometimes.’
‘Not at all. This’ – he gestured back towards a small test pit visible near the front of the church – ‘is a commission from the local parish council to see if we can find the original footprint of the church – you knew it burnt down?’ Rose nodded, trying to look as though he hadn’t already told her this. ‘This has gone fine – fairly routine work. But the Winchester one is more complex…’ He looked away for a moment, across the open fields. Then he sighed and turned back to face her. ‘Don’t mind me; I’m just wishing I didn’t have to go right now.’
‘We were supposed to go to Winchester after the library tour; to the cathedral.’
‘Yes – of course. You must be disappointed it had to be dropped.’
‘I’m not too bothered. I’ve been before, and I’ll go another time, but I do feel sorry for those who’ve come a long way and won’t get the chance again. It’s such a shame they had to close it to the public during festival week.’
‘Yes, I’m sure they weren’t too pleased about it either, but sadly, when damage occurs in a building as old as that it has to be dealt with as expeditiously as possible to avoid the situation growing worse.’ He smiled ruefully and turned to stare out across the fields. ‘That’s where I’m off to, actually – the cathedral itself. The consultant archaeologist was my mentor but he’s away, and he asked me if I’d oversee it as I was in the area.’
‘What happened?’
He turned to look at her. ‘A leak in one of the windows caused some flood damage to one of the walls and the flooring below. Means repairing the window, of course, but also moving some old stones with a great deal of care.’ For a moment, he said nothing, and Rose tried not to stare at him. Is it wrong I want to reach out and touch his face?
‘That’s not unusual, of course,’ Aiden said, and Rose almost gulped, then realised he was not mind reading, but merely continuing with his thoughts. ‘But the timing’s not great.’ He paused. ‘Listen, I—’
‘Hey, boss!’ They both turned around to find one of Aiden’s team waving at them. ‘We’re off. See you in the morning.’
He waved a hand and turned back to Rose. ‘I have to go, too. It wasn’t much of a thank you, was it, for all your hard work?’
‘It was – it’s been… lovely. Everything.’
He smiled faintly, then glanced at his watch. ‘Damn. Sorry, I do have to go. But—’
Rose had picked up the discarded carrier bag, intending to put the remains of their picnic in it, but something fell to the ground, and she bent to pick it up.
‘Ah, I forgot I’d brought dessert.’ Aiden took the open packet of Love Hearts from Rose and shook some out onto his hand before selecting one and handing it her. Instinctively, she glanced at it before popping it into her mouth, then wished she could take it out again to be certain it said what she thought it did: Be Mine? Hastily, she swallowed it and thanked him and turned away to continue tidying up the leftover food before they both walked over to the gate.
‘I appreciate you taking the time out of your tour.’
Rose shook her head. ‘It was no hardship. Honestly.’
‘Good. Rose…’ He reached out suddenly and tucked a stray curl of hair behind her ear. ‘Take care. I’ll see you again, I’m sure.’
And then he was gone, walking under the lychgate and loping across the grass with his long stride towards his car. Rose watched it pull away, her heart doing somersaults, before turning her steps towards Chawton House, for the tour.
Her given time with Aiden was over, another year gone and another year to wait. But what a time it had been. She smiled to herself as she started up the slope to the house. Perhaps she could drop him a text… accidentally on purpose? Or even find out where he was working and just… turn up?
No, perhaps not. Laughing under her breath, she joined the others gathering for the tour. Probably best not to go from wallflower to stalker so rapidly!
Rose turned back to look down the driveway towards the road. Aiden’s car had gone, but it was hard to feel down when her skin was still tingling where his fingers had brushed her face.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The popularity of the guided tours at Chawton House had led to the group being split into two smaller ones, and Morgan – who had turned up just as the tour was due to start and had reluctantly agreed to hear all about Rose’s lunch when they had more time later – had waved cheerily to her friend as she was swept off in a different group.
Having done the tour before, Rose made a sudden decision and hung back, slipping away from them and heading outside.
Walking up into the gardens at the back of the house, Rose wandered among the flowers beds, inhaling the scent of the late flowering roses, her heart full. Something was different; despite the thought of perhaps not seeing Aiden again until next year, she wasn’t filled with her usual despair, more a sense of hope for the future.
An hour later, Rose headed back down the path and round to the courtyard outside the kitchens where she could tell from the noise that afternoon tea was being enjoyed by everyone.
‘Yo, Rose!’
Morgan got to her feet, smiling widely.
‘How was afternoon tea?’
‘Awesome!’ Morgan slipped her arm through Rose’s as they turned to follow som
e of the others from their coach party round to the front of the house and down the gravel driveway. ‘How about you? You wouldn’t have made me wait the entire tour if he’d proposed, would you?’
Rose sighed. ‘No. And he’s not likely to, is he? I probably won’t see him again until next year, and there’s no guarantee he’ll come back then.’
‘Don’t give up now, Rose,’ Morgan said reassuringly. ‘Come on, let’s have the play by play. You owe it to me for deserting me just now.’
‘Yes, and I’m sure you felt lost, lonely and alone – not.’
Morgan laughed. ‘I had a blast. This cream tea thing is awesome. Did you know there’s a whole debate about the pronunciation of “scone”? Some of the ladies became quite heated! But that was nothing to the one about whether the jam or cream should go on first.’
With a laugh, Rose nodded. ‘Tell me about it. I went last year and it was just the same. I still don’t remember who came out the winner.’
By the time everyone had returned to the coach, the headcount had been done and the engine started, Rose had pretty much related all there was to say about lunch. After all, not a lot had happened, and they’d been together less than an hour, but it seemed enough to keep Morgan happy, who was still chattering on about everything pointing to Aiden having taken a fancy to her. Rose simply smiled, and then Morgan’s phone pinged and she began exchanging a flurry of texts.
‘James says do we want to go for a drink when we get back? Says he’ll meet us off the coach?’
‘Why don’t you see him, and I’ll head home and leave you the opportunity to tell him some pertinent information about your future postcode?’
Morgan gave her a warning glance. ‘No way, it’s all of us or none of us. Besides, I want to wait till we’re back at Laura’s Place. He still doesn’t always understand my accent and I don’t want anything lost in translation. And furthermore, he knows how much you’ve been looking forward to us having this week, and he respects it.’
The Particular Charm of Miss Jane Austen Page 27