by Paige Toon
‘The head guy left straight after meeting me so that was a bit gutting, but his second-in-command stayed and talked to me for a bit.’
I’m still trying to come to terms with what he said. The man, Sean Nottingham, reminded me of Dad, quite fatherly and nurturing, and his advice was kind, but truthful.
Angus looks concerned as he reaches over and runs his fingers along my arm, from my shoulder to my wrist.
‘It’s okay,’ I tell him. ‘I’m okay.’
Deep in my heart, I knew it already. The record industry is a tough place and labels are only taking on bright young things. No one else is getting a look in. But Sean asked me if I had considered other roles within the music industry. He said that his boss, the head of the label who had already left, needed a new PA. They hadn’t advertised for the position yet, and he said that they could do without the stress. It would be a junior role and I’d be an all-round dogsbody, starting at the bottom and hopefully working my way up.
‘What do you think?’ Angus asks tentatively after I fill him in.
‘I think that I love you for always believing in me.’
He leans forward and plants a tender kiss on my lips. When he pulls away, I have tears in my eyes. ‘But I also think that it might be time to try something else.’
‘You don’t have to give up on your music,’ he says seriously.
‘I know. I’d like to still do gigs, but God...’ I shake my head as the reality of what Sean is offering starts to sink in. ‘It would be pretty amazing to be able to leave waitressing for a job in the record industry.’
He nods, impressed. ‘I’ll say.’
‘Sean said there’d be perks. I’d be able to go to gigs, and sometimes I’d get to go on album shoots and that sort of thing.’
‘It sounds right up your street.’
‘Yeah.’ I smile at him, feeling a belated bubble of excitement.
Dad always used to say that we needed to discover our passion in life and then find a way to do it. He said that we’d meet like-minded people, doing what we love. This is my chance to meet people in the music industry, and who knows what the future might hold? Maybe one day I’ll get to write songs for the next big thing, or even sing backing vocals for another artist. I’m not set on being the front person – I just want to get by, doing what I love.
The more I think about it, the more at peace I feel.
Angus kisses me again. ‘I’m so proud of you,’ he murmurs. ‘Your dad would be proud, too.’
‘Thank you,’ I murmur, my nose prickling.
The sound of a key in the lock makes me start.
‘It’s just Rose,’ he whispers.
‘I hope she’ll be okay about me being here in the morning,’ I whisper back, fretting as I listen to her go into her room and close the door behind her.
‘She’ll have to be.’ He kisses the tip of my nose. ‘Everyone will have to be. I don’t want to be apart from you again. From now on, we’re in this together.’
Chapter 40
Rose
The next morning, my headache feels like the least of my problems. I lie there for a while in bed, contemplating the events of the night before. I can’t believe I kissed Toby. What was I thinking?
Eventually I get out of bed and go into the kitchen to fill up the kettle. I’m just downing a glass of water and a couple of headache tablets when Angus walks in.
‘Are you making filtered coffee?’ he asks, sleepily planting himself on a stool at the island unit. He’s wearing low-slung PJ bottoms and nothing else, but I’m unaffected by the eye-candy moment.
‘Yeah, you want one?’ I ask.
‘Please,’ he says, and suddenly he looks awkward.
‘Am I making two or three?’ I ask pointedly.
‘Three, please,’ he replies sheepishly.
‘Okaaay then.’ The words come out sounding a bit arsey, and as I turn around to get out the cups, I hear him sigh.
‘Rosie, please don’t—’
‘It’s fine,’ I interrupt, glancing at him over my shoulder. ‘I won’t give her a hard time, I promise.’
His shoulders sag with relief. ‘Good. Thank you.’
‘Is it safe to enter?’ my sister calls from the doorway, seemingly naked except for the T-shirt of Angus’s she’s wearing.
‘Yes, there was no need for his big brother pep talk,’ I reply wryly.
She grins as she ambles over, hopping onto a stool beside Angus. They exchange intimate smiles.
It’s eerie seeing them together like this. I guess in some ways it’s good that they hooked up before I went away. It would be harder to come home to them already being a fullblown couple.
‘So,’ Eliza says, leaving a significant pause before continuing. ‘How was it with Toby last night?’ She raises a knowing eyebrow at me and my face heats up in response. ‘Rose!’ she admonishes, a grin splitting her face.
‘What? No!’ I want to tell her that she’s got the wrong idea. In fact, how did she know to ask her meaningful question about Toby in the first place? ‘We’re just friends!’ I insist.
‘There is nothing platonic about the way you two look at each other,’ she says. ‘Tell me what happened!’ she urges, and it’s obvious that whatever denials I issue will be ignored. ‘Did you kiss him?’
I groan, hiding my face.
‘You did!’ Eliza exclaims. I don’t deny it.
‘Wait, you kissed Toby?’ Angus interjects with confusion.
‘Yep,’ Eliza gleefully confirms.
Angus gawps at me. ‘Noooo!’
‘What’s the big deal?’ Eliza brushes off his horrified reaction.
‘He’s practically a teenager!’ Angus exclaims.
‘He’s twenty-one, almost twenty-two,’ I find myself correcting him. He still looks taken aback. ‘I know, I know.’ I press my fingers to my flaming cheeks. ‘You don’t have to tell me. I made a mistake.’
Eliza shoves Angus’s arm. ‘Back in your box, big brother. This is sister territory.’
Angus looks put out as he sits back on his haunches.
‘Why was it a mistake?’ Eliza asks me. ‘He’s an adult. You’re an adult. Plus he’s sexy as hell.’
‘Oi!’ Angus butts in, outraged.
‘And he really, really likes you,’ Eliza continues, ignoring Angus. ‘Plus, the feeling is mutual. I can tell,’ she adds as I stare at her. ‘You’re stupid if you’re going to pass up a hottie like that. He won’t stay single for long.’
I gather myself together. ‘No, he won’t. And I need to be okay with that.’ I try to project the tone of a mature adult, something I’m supposed to be. ‘I want to settle down, get married and have kids. I want what my friends have, what you two will no doubt have in the not too distant future.’
They both shift on their seats like two peas in a pod, but neither of them denies it.
‘You’re still looking for Prince Charming,’ Eliza states, matter-of-factly.
‘Yes,’ I confirm with a decisive nod.
‘Well,’ she says, ‘just remember that he might not come in the package you’re expecting.’
Last night, the taxi journey home was unbearably tense. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, so Toby just sat there on the other side of the car, staring humourlessly out of the window. It was only when we arrived at my place that he met my eyes.
‘Come and say goodbye tomorrow,’ he said.
I nodded and climbed out of the car.
‘Rose,’ he called after me, so I turned around and looked back in at him. ‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘Don’t go without saying goodbye.’
‘I won’t,’ I vowed. He seemed to relax marginally.
Now I can’t believe I made such a promise.
Surely it would be better for both of us if we had a clean break? But no, I do want to stay friends, and anyway, there’s something I’ve been meaning to give him.
Toby is behind the counter with Vanessa when I walk into Jennifer’s. He takes one look a
t me and jerks his head towards the bakery, holding the door back to let me go through. Out in the garden, I notice the windows to the café area are closed and the frosting is still in place.
‘I hope you’re going to take off the frosting or open up the windows when I’m gone,’ I say. ‘I didn’t do all of this for nothing, you know.’
He smiles, despite himself. ‘Sorry, I didn’t quite get around to doing it earlier, but I will. I promise. Dad’s talking about turning one of the windows into an outside door so people can come out here to drink their coffees. He really loves what you’ve done.’
‘That’s a great idea,’ I say, thrilled. ‘How’s your head?’ I ask, pulling up a single chair.
‘Head’s fine. Heart’s the problem,’ he replies, sitting down opposite me.
My face does its usual trick of heating up like a radiator, but he seems remarkably cool as he stares back at me.
‘I brought you this.’ I try to compose myself as I place the plant pot on the low table.
I re-potted one of the rose cuttings I took from home and covered it with a plastic bag to create a greenhouse environment. The other two I’m giving to Mum and Eliza. They’re just starting to shoot. I take off the bag now to show Toby, patting the soil down around the cutting as I explain where it came from.
‘When I’m back, I’ll plant it in the garden for you. The orange colour will work well with the crocosmias and helianthemums.’
He’s staring at me sadly. I tuck a loose piece of hair behind my ear.
‘You’ll have to spritz it with water every—’
My sentence is cut short by him reaching across and brushing my cheek with his thumb.
‘Dirt,’ he explains, rubbing it from his hands and meeting my eyes again. ‘It’s funny, I’ve got this overriding memory of Mum baking in the kitchen at home. She always had flour on her face. With you it’s soil.’
I shake my head, smiling sadly. ‘I wouldn’t make a good baker, would I?’
‘You’d make a better gardener,’ he replies.
It’s a lightbulb moment. I gawp at him, open-mouthed.
‘What is it?’ he asks.
‘I think I’ve just worked out what I want to do with my life,’ I tell him.
He looks bemused.
‘I don’t want to go back to nursing. And it’s not just because I’d find it too hard. When I think about it, I didn’t really choose a nursing career in the first place. It’s not what I love, what I’m passionate about.’ I look around and laugh a little. ‘This is what I’m passionate about.’ Tears sting my eyes and I feel bizarrely emotional. ‘I love gardening.’
I don’t think I was destined to be a nurse, I think I was meant to work outside in the garden, wind, rain or shine. Gardening was Mum’s hobby – it was her passion. Nursing was her job. She missed her vocation, just as I missed mine. But it’s not too late.
I find myself laughing giddily.
‘Does this mean you won’t go away?’ Toby asks, still a little bemused, but mostly hopeful.
My face falls. ‘No. I’m going. I have to.’
I do want to follow in Phoebe’s footsteps, but this is not just about doing what Phoebe did and seeing what Phoebe saw. This is about closure. Then I’m going to go my own way and see the world.
‘How long will you be away?’ Toby asks downheartedly.
‘I don’t know. Maybe a year, maybe less.’ I’m taking the train to Paris tomorrow and after a few days I’ll head to Chamonix. I thought about travelling around Europe first, like Phoebe did, but I think I’ll have too much on my mind, knowing that the Alps are waiting for me. I’ll go to Europe afterwards before flying down to Brisbane in December.
‘My uncle and his partner are having me to stay at their house in Byron Bay for Christmas,’ I tell Toby. ‘After that, I’ll backpack around Australia and come back via Asia.’
‘I’m envious,’ he admits.
‘Start saving,’ I respond with a smile.
He stares at the cutting on the table.
‘My mum said she’ll pop in to check on the garden for me,’ I tell him. ‘Maybe you should make watering the plants one of the new girl’s jobs.’
He shakes his head. ‘Nah. I’ll do it.’
‘Well, while you’re out here, don’t start up smoking again,’ I warn.
My heart flutters as he stares at me levelly.
‘Will you keep in touch?’ he asks eventually. ‘Text me?’
‘Do you want me to?’
‘Of course.’ He gives me a reproachful look. ‘Despite you throwing yourself at me last night, you’re still my friend.’
‘I did not throw myself!’
He laughs at my outraged expression and gets to his feet. ‘Give us a hug.’
I pull a face at him, but stand up and prepare myself for goodbye. His arms fold around me and he holds me tight.
‘I’ll miss you,’ he whispers into my ear. ‘Thank you for everything.’
‘I’ll miss you, too,’ I whisper back. I let him go before I start to cry.
Chapter 41
Eliza
Rose left today. I feel pretty down about it. We had dinner with Mum last night. She kept getting all misty-eyed at the sight of us together. It made me feel bad that our silence had gone on for so long.
I thought Mum would be upset about Rose’s Chamonix plan, but she seems to understand. I’m still not sure I do. But I do feel torn about my decision not to go with her. For me, it’s too difficult, and it’s definitely too soon. But it gives me comfort to know that Chamonix isn’t going anywhere, not that I imagine I’ll ever want to do what Rose is doing.
I feel oddly disloyal being in Angus’s apartment without Rose. She didn’t live here for long, but her aura is stamped all over it. I’m miserable as I wander into her bedroom and see the duvet cover stripped and her possessions packed away in boxes in the wardrobe.
‘Will you get another tenant?’ I ask Angus, wondering what he’ll do with Rose’s belongings if he does. He already has one wardrobe stuffed full of Phoebe’s things.
‘I was going to talk to you about that,’ he says. ‘You’re looking for somewhere to live—’
‘No, Angus,’ I interrupt. ‘It’s too soon.’
‘Just hear me out.’ He takes my hands and stares into my eyes. ‘We’ve known each other for years. We know what we’re getting into. If you’re moving here to Sale, you’re going to be at my apartment loads anyway. At least, I hope you are,’ he says with a hopeful smile. ‘I want to wake up with you. I want to have breakfast with you and kiss you goodbye before I go to work. If the PA thing doesn’t pan out and you decide to carry on waitressing, I want you to come home to me.’
I’ve got to hand it to him: it’s a good argument.
‘What will people think?’ I ask.
‘What people?’ he replies with a frown. ‘I don’t care what anyone thinks. If they have a problem with us being together, they’ll get over it when they see how happy we are.’
‘Happy? You and I fight like cats and dogs,’ I point out with a wry smile.
He grins. ‘You keep me on my toes, that’s true. But I love that about you. And you know I’m always going to give it to you straight.’
I stand up on my tiptoes and give him a kiss. ‘I know. I trust you.’
‘So move in with me,’ he says simply. The look in his eyes is making my heart melt. I have a strange reality-check moment where I can’t believe we’re together like this. The only man I’ve ever really wanted wants me.
‘What about Rose?’ I ask, trying to stay focused.
‘She’ll be okay with it. She’ll have to accept it like our mums will have to accept it.’
‘No, I don’t mean... I mean, I know she’ll be okay with us eventually.’ She’s been amazing so far. ‘But what about when she comes back? What if she still wants to live with you?’
‘Well, I presume you won’t be sleeping in her bed,’ he says with meaning.
I smirk at him
and step away, wandering into his bedroom. I stand and stare at the wardrobes. The double wardrobe to the left is the only one that doesn’t open up onto the space directly in front of the bed. And it’s full of Phoebe’s things.
‘Why did you put Feebs’s things in the left-hand wardrobe?’ I ask. ‘And not the one over there?’ I point to the right, the furthest up against the far wall and the most difficult to access.
‘When I started to unpack, she was on her hen week,’ he says quietly. And still alive, he doesn’t have to add. ‘I was trying to get the apartment sorted before she came back.’
I remember Rose was on her way out of the door to help him when we received the phone call about Phoebe.
‘You gave her the best wardrobe,’ I state. It doesn’t need acknowledging, because it’s obvious.
‘I’ll empty it out,’ he says, in that same low voice.
I walk over to the wardrobe. It’s open a crack, and when I pull at the doors, I can see why. Phoebe’s clothes are in a right state, spilling out of the boxes inside.
‘It doesn’t normally look like that,’ Angus says, sounding on edge.
‘I know,’ I reply. ‘Rose told me what she did.’ I cast a look at him over his shoulder. ‘Do you mind?’ I ask, indicating the contents in front of me.
He shakes his head, but he looks uncertain. He’s worried that today is going to go horribly wrong.
‘It’s okay,’ I try to reassure him. ‘It’s okay.’
He nods again and comes forward as I lift Phoebe’s clothes from the top of the first box and lay them carefully on the bed.
‘Rose wanted to keep some of her things,’ he tells me in a husky voice. I have a lump in my throat, too. ‘I said that she could.’
‘She would have liked that,’ I reply, tracing my fingers over a red chiffon blouse. ‘Did Phoebe wear this to work?’ I ask.
He nods and I spy a multi-coloured knitted jumper peeking out from underneath a couple of other garments. I pull it out. ‘She had this when we were teenagers,’ I murmur.
‘She liked slobbing around in it in front of the telly,’ he tells me with a sad smile.
I bring it up to my nose. ‘It still smells of her. Everything does.’
A tear rolls down my cheek and he reaches out and touches my arm.