‘Yes, but … what if the kids came here? What if you moved here? What if we got a place, you and me, and moved here? Think how brilliant that would be!’ Rose clapped her hands together like a small child confronted with a shop window packed full of toys, but Shona didn’t seem nearly as taken with the idea.
Frowning, she rested the back of her hand against Rose’s forehead, its skin cool against Rose’s brow as she looked into her eyes. ‘Are you sickening for something? Look, babe, I’m not moving up here. For one thing, I don’t do sheep, with their devil eyes and funny walks, and for another I am not going to move the boys from their home and their school, and leave my mum and the place I grew up for a load of yokels. I love you, and I’ll miss you. And I’m so proud of you for coming this far, in both senses, including literally coming this far to here!’ Shona grinned at her. ‘I came up here to hold your hand, and you barely needed me at all. And now I’ve got to make a start at working out what I want to do next.’
‘It’s just … well, what about Ryan?’ Rose asked reluctantly, afraid of the answer.
‘What about him?’ Shona asked her, dropping her gaze as she stepped away from Rose and returned to her packing.
‘Are you going back for him?’ Rose said.
Shona said nothing, busily attempting to fold a bra as she attempted to ignore Rose.
‘Sho? I heard you talking to him on the phone!’
Rose was referring to the hushed conversation she had strained to overhear as it drifted in, along with Shona’s cigarette smoke, through an open window. Shona’s voice had been soft and gentle, full of tenderness and affection, something that even Rose, who knew only too well how easy it was to find yourself trapped in an impossible relationship, found hard to understand. How Shona could bear to talk at all to the man who’d almost killed her, let alone with such care and kindness, was beyond her. The difference was, she supposed, that she had stopped loving Richard a very long time ago. Shona had never stopped loving Ryan, no matter what he did to her.
‘Are you going back for him?’
‘No!’ Shona said, adding quietly, ‘I don’t know yet.’
‘Shona, you can’t. You can’t let him back in your life, you have to see that, don’t you?’ Rose asked her desperately. ‘I mean, what if I announced that actually, now I’d had a chance to think about it, Richard wasn’t all that bad, and was maybe just a bit misunderstood and that after all I would go back to him, what would you say? You’d kill me!’
‘It’s different,’ Shona protested. ‘Completely different.’
‘How?’ Rose asked.
‘Dickhead is evil through and through, and that’s it. He’s always had whatever he’s wanted all his life. Nice family, plenty of money, good education, wife, child. And with all of that he’s still a nasty evil shit who lives to make other people’s lives a misery. Ryan never had any of the chances Dickhead had. His dad beat him senseless until the day he dropped dead of a heart attack, which was in the middle of beating up his mum for the last time. And then as soon as she could, his mum left him to it, went off with some bloke and never got back in touch again. He was fifteen, Rose, fifteen. He got kicked out of school after school, shoved into care and no one ever gave him a second chance except me. No one ever showed him any kindness except for me. This time it’s different,’ Shona insisted, her shoulders tense, her neck stiff.
‘So you are going back to him then,’ Rose said, knowing this was an argument that she was unlikely to win, hoping desperately that things would work out the way her friend wanted them to.
‘I’m not going back to him straight away.’ Shona shrugged defensively. ‘But perhaps in time, if things work out. If he can really show me he’s changed. I’m not an idiot – I’m not going to just run into his arms like nothing’s ever happened – but I love him, babe, and really that’s all there is to it at the end of the day, isn’t it?’
‘Then there’s nothing I can say, is there? Except that I really hope you are right about this, Shona, I really hope that you and Ryan can make a go of it. If anyone deserves another chance in life, it’s you.’
Shona’s smile was tinged with sadness. ‘Thank you, darling.’
‘But please, please, stay one more night?’ Rose begged her.
‘No! Look, I’m not going until later. I promised Jenny I’d help put the finishing touches on the annexe so she can decide what to do with it next, and then I’m going to drive through the night. Be back in time to hug and kiss my little men. I’ve missed them, for all the fun I’ve had up here with you. It’s you, you know, that’s made me see what I have to do next. I know now, I have to do whatever it takes to try and be happy.’
‘I’ll miss you,’ Rose said, finding tears suddenly standing in her eyes. ‘I don’t know why, but this feels so final.’
‘Don’t be so stupid, it’s not like it’s for ever, and besides,’ Shona said, reaching out to ruffle Rose’s hair, ‘don’t you see? This is where your life is now, and it’s written all over your face how much freer you feel here, how important getting to know your dad is to you. Even mooning after that idiot you think you’re in love with.’
‘I do love it here,’ Rose said, reaching out and hugging her friend as she sat on the floor. ‘But you going means that me staying feels less like a temporary thing and more like, well, a decision.’
‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ Shona asked her. ‘Starting again, that’s what all this is about. Although how you are going to choose between Frasier and Ted I don’t know.’
‘There is no choice!’ Rose insisted. ‘There is no Frasier or Ted.’
That Rose hadn’t seen or heard from Ted since their hours in the annexe she supposed was probably for the best. He’d said a lot of things to her that night, things she hadn’t said back. Some distance between them now was a good thing, some time for her to feel less bad about how she’d let him kiss her, when she knew that it meant very different things to both of them.
‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that,’ Shona said. ‘Frasier’s been down here twice this week already, and he’s taking you and Maddie to Edinburgh tomorrow. That’s an awful lot of effort for a man who lives in another country, with another woman.’
‘It’s just Frasier being nice. You said it yourself, he’s one of those people who can’t help being good to everyone he meets. He knows I’m going through a tricky time and he’s decided to try and help me through it, probably to keep Dad on an even keel more than anything. He’s a friend,’ Rose said, feeling a warmth spreading inside her every time she said his name. ‘And that is really much more than I could have expected, when I came here armed only with a postcard and a crazed look in my eye.’
It was true that Frasier had arrived at the B & B on Monday evening just before tea and offered to take Rose and Maddie into Keswick for fish and chips.
After showering herself of all traces that her night with Ted might have left on her, her skin aching with tiredness and an excess of touching, Rose had gone to collect Maddie early that morning to find both grandfather and granddaughter already at work in companionable silence in the barn, so at ease in each other’s company that she felt a little guilty for interrupting them. It really was astounding that any occupation could keep Maddie so entranced for such a consistent period, let alone completely transform her character from one that was often difficult and taciturn – especially if she considered herself to be neglected or forgotten – to someone who looked like the picture of happiness, completely relaxed. Maddie had looked up from her work as she heard the barn door creak open and beamed at Rose.
‘Oh, hello, Mum. Come and look at this.’
John had been in good spirits too, although he looked a little tired, and perhaps paler than Rose thought was good. She wondered if he really did live on a diet of mouldy cheese and bread.
‘Did she keep you up?’ Rose asked him, but he shook his head.
‘No, she was asleep by midnight. Age kept me up. It’s a funny thing that the longer you liv
e, and the more tired you become, the less your body is inclined to grant you sleep.’
‘If you like I could go and pick some things up for you,’ Rose offered. He looked worn thin, and she suspected that it was her daughter’s fault.
‘No, thank you. I have a person for that.’
And so, politely rebuffed, and none the wiser as to who this mysterious person might be, Rose had spent the morning in the barn, watching Maddie work, feeling the warmth of the sun beating through the skylight on to the back of her neck, surreptitiously watching John laying the groundwork for the piece that he’d said he was not ready for her to see yet, and feeling all in all really rather peaceful despite last night’s tempest. And then later Frasier had come and taken them out for fish and chips in Keswick, saying that he was just passing, and thought why not spend the evening with the two loveliest ladies in the village, although Rose couldn’t think of a reason why he would be just passing, unless … well, unless he had gone out of his way just to see her.
They’d had a lovely, laidback evening, like none that Rose could ever remember having with Richard, not even in the early days. Maddie had quizzed Frasier endlessly on what he knew about art, gave him a test in colour theory, which he failed deliberately in order to let her explain it to him, and he had patiently spent a great deal of time checking her fish for bones, when she remembered that she was afraid of choking on one. It was rare to find a single man prepared to be so patient with any child, let alone one as relentless as Maddie, and the more Rose watched him go out of his way to engage Maddie, the more she hopelessly adored him. The real Frasier was every bit as lovely as the imaginary one that she had loved for so long, which was a comfort in a way, knowing that she hadn’t wasted all those years of pining on someone who turned out to be terrible in real life.
‘You are good with her,’ Rose had said quietly, when Maddie went to refresh her glass of coloured pens. ‘It’s kind of you. A lot of people find her difficult to get along with.’
‘She’s not difficult at all.’ Frasier shook his head. ‘A little eccentric perhaps, and unusual, but not difficult. Besides, she is decidedly, preciously talented at drawing, which is fascinating. I like her a lot. She reminds me that I would have liked to have had children once.’
‘Well, there’s still time, you’re not over the hill yet!’ Rose exclaimed, although the idea of Cecily full-bellied with Frasier’s child was quite a painful one.
‘Cecily is not keen on children,’ Frasier admitted, perhaps with a touch of sadness. ‘She prefers it to be just the two of us.’
‘Funny,’ Rose couldn’t stop herself from saying, ‘that’s exactly what Richard said to me. So she’s the one, is she, Cecily? The one you will settle with for ever?’
The question, so loaded with longing and double meanings, slipped out before Rose could control her tongue. Frasier turned to look at her, inclining his head slightly to one side, clearly trying to discern exactly what she meant.
‘I haven’t really thought about not being with Cecily,’ he said. ‘We’ve been together nearly two years now, and we get along pretty well. If I were to marry anyone, then she would seem like the most obvious choice, yes.’
‘Right,’ Rose said, forcing her mouth into a brittle smile. ‘Not that it’s any of my business. I think some of Jenny’s natural curiosity must have rubbed off on me. Look, anyway, thank you so much for coming to take us out when you still have that long journey all the way back again.’
‘Oh, no,’ Frasier said. ‘Not tonight. Tonight I’m staying over with John, mostly against his will. His third painting will be ready for shipping tomorrow so I thought I’d oversee the loading and then he might let me talk to him about his next commission. I’ll be free in the afternoon – if you like we could go for a walk? I could show you some of my favourite views.’
‘A walk? Thank you, that would be lovely,’ Rose said, surprised, and confused once more. Just when she finally thought she knew where she stood, Frasier changed the rules all over again. ‘You really are being very nice to me.’
‘It’s not exactly hard,’ Frasier said, smiling perhaps a little coyly, ‘to be nice to you. I’m rather glad to have the chance at last. And I was thinking on Friday I might come down early, pick you and Maddie up, and take you to see my gallery for the day. You can see some of your dad’s work in situ, and I thought Maddie would like to see other art – we could even brave the National Gallery, if she’s keen.’
‘Really?’ Rose looked at him. ‘Are you sure? Shouldn’t you be discovering artists or doing something with Cecily?’
‘Oh, Cecily is far too busy to bother with me on a weekday,’ Frasier grinned affectionately. ‘As long as I’m present and correct from six p.m. Friday onwards we get along just fine, and, well, look … you’ve been through some tough times recently. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I also know that you could do with a friend or two at the moment. The way you are handling this, handling John … it’s admirable. I don’t pretend to know how things were with your husband but I do know that when I saw you on that day seven years ago, you looked so unutterably sad and lost and so … trapped, you reminded me of a songbird in a cage.’ Rose’s eyes widened, amazed that Frasier had seen her exactly the way she had seen herself, trapped in a gilded cage. ‘And if I’m honest I’ve never stopped thinking about you since that moment, wondering how you were and where you were. I hoped that I’d simply caught you on a bad day, and that you were truly happy. It pains me to know that for a good deal of the time you were not.’
‘I wasn’t that day.’ Rose remembered, pain flashing across her face. ‘When I met you, it wasn’t long after I realised just how awful my marriage was, and yet I had no idea how to escape from it. That time I spent with you, it gave me …’ she paused, intent on not loading what she said next with too much meaning, ‘… a glimmer of what life could be like.’
There was a silence between them as Maddie returned to the table with all the pens she had been able to gather with two fists, deposited them and returned to retrieve the rest, much to the disapproval of the waitress.
‘Spares,’ she said by way of explanation.
‘I can’t bear to think of you feeling so desolate,’ Frasier said, mustering a smile to cheer both of them. ‘And yet now suddenly here you are, and you look so full of life and promise,’ he continued as Maddie began to arrange the pens into colour groupings. ‘And although I know that we know each other very little in reality, I can promise you that there aren’t many people in the world who are more pleased to see you that way than I am.’
‘I actually think that might be true,’ Rose said with a smile, thinking of her limited pool of friends. ‘And if it is true, then I am very lucky to have such a good friend waiting for me, just when I need him.’
Frasier smiled. ‘So you will indulge me and let me show you my empire?’
‘Have you got an empire?’ Maddie asked him, as she sat down now in possession of every single felt-tip pen that the restaurant owned, completely oblivious to the scandalised looks of the waitress, as she began to draw.
‘Well, I’ve got a gallery, some offices and a shop,’ Frasier said modestly.
‘Not really an empire, is it?’ Maddie said, rolling her eyes. ‘An empire is a ton of countries, enslaved by your mighty power. Not a shop and an office.’
‘Fair point,’ Frasier said.
Afterwards, when he drove them home, Maddie fell asleep full of chips in the back of the car, and was still slumbering as Frasier drew up in front of the B & B.
‘I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, for our walk,’ he said, leaning across and kissing Rose ever so lightly on the cheek.
‘Me too,’ Rose said, smiling shyly at him, lost once again in a maze of ambiguous intentions that seemed impossible to interpret.
Their walk the next day had been pleasant, under the sunshine, buffeted by the warm winds, with Maddie talking non-stop, inventing goblins and trolls and whispering ghosts around every tur
n, and behind every weather-stunted tree. Rose had not said much, and neither had Frasier, but she had been content to be in his company as they made their way to one of the lesser peaks, he offering her his hand when they came to any tricky inclines, holding onto her fingers for perhaps just a moment longer than he needed to. And when they finally parted outside John’s house, everything had felt just as it should do.
Yes, Rose discovered that she was rather happy to be confused and beguiled by Frasier McCleod, because even if Frasier was just being especially nice to the daughter of his best client, and Ted had just been in the midst of a passing crush, it was a good deal more pleasant and exciting than being the person she had been before. Than being Richard’s wife.
‘See that dreamy look in your eye?’ Shona declared mischievously, drawing Rose back into the present. ‘You’ve had that a lot recently. That’s definitely a thinking-about-a-man look. Which one is it? Ted, all young and keen; or Frasier, all sweetness and hand-holdy?’
‘Don’t try and change the subject,’ Rose said firmly, although the hint of a blush crept in her cheeks. The funny thing was Shona thought she had two men at her beck and call, and the real truth was that actually she had neither. ‘The point is, I’m not sure I can cope without you.’
‘Don’t be a silly sod,’ Shona said. ‘Don’t you get it? You’ve been coping without me since I got here. Rose, you don’t need anyone any more.’
‘Mum,’ Maddie said with some gravity as Rose went downstairs to find her daughter waiting by the front door with her sketchbook tucked under her arm, ‘can we go now?’
‘Go where?’ Rose asked her, still out of sorts from hearing the news that Shona was leaving. Leaving her alone to live her life alone, for the first time since she was eighteen.
‘To Granddad’s!’ Maddie exclaimed.
‘But we haven’t really made a plan to go to Granddad’s today. He’s not expecting us,’ Rose said. ‘I thought that really you and I haven’t seen each other that much since we got here. The weather looks like it might hold, so I thought we might go for a walk, or drive to one of the lakes, maybe get a boat?’
Dearest Rose Page 25