The Rose Garden

by Marita Conlon-McKenna

  ‘Molly, please think about it. There is nowhere decent to go for a nice coffee or a lunch close by – you know that.’

  ‘That’s true, and it’s such a nuisance,’ agreed Molly. ‘You either end up having lunch in the hotel or the Kilfinn Inn, or staying at home having coffee.’

  ‘A café set here in a courtyard garden, only a few minutes’ walk from the village, would do well. I know it would,’ she insisted.

  ‘Let me have a think about it,’ said Molly, seriously. ‘I don’t know if I can afford to take on something like that, or if I even want to.’

  ‘I’m willing to invest or rent from you – whatever you want,’ Gina found herself offering.

  That night, as she lay in Paul’s arms, she told him what had happened.

  ‘I know that I said far too much. I should have done it slowly, taken my time approaching her. I’ve probably blown it.’

  ‘Molly Hennessy is a good woman, kind as they come, but remember she’s smart too and wants only the best for Mossbawn,’ he counselled. ‘Don’t rush her. Just see what happens after those visitors turn up next week.’

  Gina knew he was right. She just had to be patient.

  Chapter 77

  SO GINA HAD TAKEN PAUL’S ADVICE AND BEEN PATIENT, AND AS the summer days turned to autumn Molly finally made her decision.

  ‘Gina, I think you are right about the café. Having somewhere to have a cup of tea or light lunch here in the gardens would be a great addition to Mossbawn House and to the village,’ she said decisively. ‘I think we should both put on our thinking caps and talk to Trish. She’s the architect and will know what she can do with the old stables in terms of design and costs. And of course Paul would do all the building work.’

  Gina was so happy she felt like jumping up and down like a little kid. She couldn’t wait to phone Paul to tell him the good news.

  ‘We want the café to be a place people really want to come to,’ Molly continued, serious. ‘Not just in the summer, but all year round. They need to feel relaxed meeting their friends or comfortable to just have a bowl of soup on their own.’

  ‘Molly, I’ve been thinking of nothing else for months,’ Gina admitted, ‘and I’ve lots of ideas for what we can do with the stables and a new kitchen that I’ll talk to Trish about. However, the most important thing is to keep the garden element as much as possible.’

  The following few months were hectic, with everyone trying to agree a design with Trish and waiting for planning permission to come through.

  The house itself had been hired by the film company for six weeks’ shooting and Gina found herself catering for the crew and cast, doing everything from early breakfasts to late dinners and a huge number of warming tasty meals twice a day.

  Mossbawn’s calendar of events for the rest of the year was also beginning to fill up and Gina was working harder than ever, but loving every minute of it. The fact that she would now have a business of her own was exciting. She was taking a ten-year lease on the new café premises. Both she and Molly were investing in the business, and Molly would take a percentage of the profit once the café began to make one.

  As March turned to April, the days brightened and Molly had decided to open Mossbawn’s gardens for a few months of the year, closing them early if they were hosting a function.

  The old stables were now transformed into a bright café area. The original stone walls had all been preserved and Trish had designed an inner courtyard with a glass roof which connected the old tack and harness room to the rest of the buildings. Molly was delighted to be able to start planting all around it.

  ‘That courtyard is small, I know,’ the architect explained, ‘but on wet Irish days it will ensure the café still feels open air.’

  The back of the stables opened up by simple drop-down windows and garden doors that gave out on to a large new terraced area that Molly was planting with pretty cottage-garden plants and year-round cover.

  The old wash-house was now a modern kitchen. Gina stood there, wishing that Norah Cassidy could see the place. She had sunk practically every penny of her inheritance from Norah into the new venture. They had talked about a big family holiday to Disney World, but had settled instead on a weekend trip to Eurodisney in Paris. The boys, Paul and herself had had a great time!

  For the new café she was re-using as many of Norah’s old tables and chairs as possible. They had been sanded down and repainted in soft Farrow & Ball colours, which worked well with the old stone walls. She had worked out a simple menu and would use as much produce from the kitchen garden as possible.

  As the opening of the Garden Café neared, Gina was nervous as hell that people mightn’t turn up, or that she had got it wrong and it would all be a disaster.

  ‘It will all be fine!’ said Paul soothingly. ‘The café is lovely.’ But the night before the café opened she tossed and turned, unable to sleep, worried that things would go disastrously wrong …

  She and Inga were there bright and early to bake fresh scones and cakes to welcome visitors. They chopped up vegetables for the soup of the day, rolled out pastry for the goats’ cheese tarts and cut up chicken for the chicken-and-leek bake. The place looked wonderful and she thanked heaven that the day was dry and fairly bright. Molly had put little glass vases of fresh flowers on each table and Gina had hung a framed photograph of Norah Cassidy behind the counter.

  They opened at eleven and Gina could hardly believe it when Johnny Lynch walked through the door and took a seat near the window. He ordered his usual: a scone and a pot of tea.

  ‘It’s on the house this morning, Johnny!’ she laughed, giving him a welcome hug.

  The old man was like a good-luck charm, she thought, as a load of her regulars came along to wish her well too. The café was kept busy all morning and was packed out at lunchtime. Everyone wanted a table and a chance to eat at the Garden Café.

  Chapter 78

  MOLLY SAT IN THE ROSE GARDEN. THIS GARDEN, WHICH HAD possessed and obsessed her, was finally finished. When she had begun this garden she had been so sad, so full of grief and loneliness. She had buried herself in the task of restoring it. Now there were roses everywhere; old roses and new roses covering the stone walls and the frames and the painted gazebo with the archways, creating a rose bower just like she had imagined, pink and peach and blush-coloured roses in bloom everywhere, and the garden bringing her immense joy.

  Here the roses were protected from damage by wind and bad weather; the garden was sunny and warm even in winter. She watched the buds and leaves of each rose bush protectively, ready to deal with black spot or aphids or fungus. Each one needed care, and they rewarded her well for the attention they received. She was especially proud of the old roses, planted long before her time, that had suddenly rallied, returned to vigour and begun to grow again, sending their new shoots and tendrils skyward as they reached for the sun and light, producing buds and blooming in their heavy, blowsy fashion like old film stars and divas attracting the attention.

  It was peaceful and quiet here, away from everything, and Molly loved to sit and read or just relax, the way the gardener who had first marked out this patch must have done. Roses filled the herbaceous borders and she had created separate beds for cutting, with rows of coloured red and yellow and cream and pink roses that bloomed again and again.

  One rose in particular intrigued her. Neither Paddy nor she could find a name for it. She searched David Austin and numerous other rose catalogues. Gabriel, the rose expert, had visited and was equally miffed, declaring he’d never seen a rose like it with its perfect bowl of a flowerhead and rich pink colour, tinged almost purple as it turned. Gabriel had taken photos of it and was testing growing it. She had managed to propagate it and planted another one near the gate and also one beside her cottage. Gabriel was certain that it was a new, unregistered variety and she had secretly named it Rosa Constance Moore, convinced that Charles Moore must have developed and bred this special rose for his beloved wife. It was a Mossba
wn rose – something very special.

  The roses were wonderful this year, but she knew that with hard work and care and attention every year they would get better. She was so glad to be still living here, part of it all.

  Mossbawn House was building up a good reputation and each event they held was different. Molly was surprised by how much money a wedding or launch or anniversary celebration could earn. Gina was an absolute star at providing the type of meal or buffet that their clients wanted, and Molly was delighted to see the drawing and dining rooms busy again the way they should be. She enjoyed showing people around the house and the garden, telling them stories of the previous owners and their families. Kim’s research had been meticulous and there were family trees, portraits and photographs all on display now in the library.

  When she had opened the gardens a few months ago she had been filled with trepidation, but to her delight twenty-six members of her local gardening club had arrived to support her. And it had been a success. Now gardeners and enthusiasts were discovering Mossbawn and visiting it along with their families, or those just interested in having a stroll around the lawn and beds and walled gardens.

  At first when Gina Sullivan had suggested opening the Garden Café, Molly had been very sceptical about it, but Gina had been really determined to make the new venture work. Even in the few short weeks since it had opened it had become not only a great attraction for visitors to the garden but, more importantly, had become a café used by all the locals in Kilfinn.

  ‘I told you it would work!’ Gina had declared proudly. ‘People need to have some place close by to go for coffees and cakes, or soup and a sandwich, or to have a tasty lunch with their friends.’

  Sitting in the garden with the sun warm on her skin, Molly closed her eyes. She wondered what David would have made of it all. Of all the changes she’d made, moving out of the house and into the cottage. Of her running a business that was making a profit. She hoped that he would be proud of her, proud of what she’d done …

  ‘Molly – Molly!’

  She stirred, realizing that someone was standing in front of her.

  ‘I guessed that I’d find you here,’ Rob said, sitting down beside her on the garden bench.

  Over the past few months Rob had become part of her life. He was easy company and they got on really well. She liked having him around; he was a good man, kind and loving. They were two lonely people who had somehow had the good fortune to find each other.

  She had been surprised when Rob had confessed to her that he had spoken to David on the phone and had kept in touch regularly with him by email.

  ‘I was his early-morning meeting that day … the day he died. I was the client he was meant to see. David was handling the legal work on the Irish end for the project,’ he had told her miserably. ‘I was looking forward to meeting him, this guy I’d been chatting to and emailing so much. When he didn’t turn up and I heard what had happened …’

  She had sat taking it in. Rob hadn’t been to blame for David’s death – nobody was to blame. But in a strange way it had comforted her that Rob and David had actually spoken.

  She would never ever get over losing David. He would always be her husband, the father of her daughters, her very best friend. But Rob was different, very different from him – which she suspected was a good thing. With Rob she felt young again, ready to try out new things. She liked being romanced and told how beautiful she was. Their relationship was new and fresh, but she suspected it was one that would last.

  At first she had told him it was far too soon for her even to consider a relationship, but Rob had been tenacious, bit by bit seeing her and working his way into her heart. He was full of plans. He wanted to bring her to see the Grand Canyon, to watch the Northern Lights, to swim in the Barrier Reef …

  Now he took her hand in his, his grip strong and warm as they sat together in the sunshine, talking and laughing.

  Chapter 79

  KIM LOOKED IN THE MIRROR. SHE LOVED HER DRESS. SHE HAD found the fitted off-white lace wedding gown with its satin-ribbon trim in a designer’s small studio. With its old-fashioned vintage look it made her feel like a princess. Her simple veil was held in place with her mother’s antique diamante-studded tiara. Her long hair had been blow-dried, with part of it pinned up, her make-up was classic and natural, and she carried a beautiful hand-tied bouquet of roses from her aunt Molly’s garden.

  ‘You look beautiful! Truly beautiful!’ said her father, standing behind her. ‘So like your mum!’

  ‘And you look very handsome, Dad!’ she said, hugging him.

  Liz and Evie, her two bridesmaids, wore matching dusky-pink chiffon dresses and high heels. Three months ago she had discovered that both her bridesmaids were pregnant and expecting within a few weeks of each other! A dress disaster threatened, except for the handiwork of Mary Cummings, the local seamstress, who had managed to alter both dresses to fit.

  ‘Time to put your shoes on, Ava!’ ordered Liz, as she slipped the satin ballet pumps on to the little flower girl, who was running around pretending to be a fairy.

  ‘I’m a princess like Auntie Kim,’ she boasted, grabbing her posy of flowers.

  ‘The car is outside,’ called Molly, running in to make sure the bride was okay. ‘You don’t want to keep Luke waiting!’

  Standing at the door of Kilfinn’s church, Kim took a deep, wobbly breath and held her dad’s arm. The church was packed with people she loved – her family and friends and Luke’s family. Liz and Evie and little Ava walked slowly ahead of her as the choir sang and the organ played. She smiled, her dad steadying her as, overwhelmed with emotion and happiness, they began to walk slowly up the centre aisle of the church. She felt an immense wave of love and support and goodwill welcoming her as she took one step after another.

  Luke was there at the top of the church, standing waiting for her, his eyes lighting up when he saw her, his gaze holding hers. She was tempted to run up into his arms, but she kept her eyes steady on him as she walked nearer and nearer, her dad hugging her at the top as she let go of him and took Luke’s hand.

  Father Darragh welcomed them to the church and began the wedding ceremony as they lit the candles that would symbolize each of them and their marriage. Kim’s eyes filled with tears as they pledged their love and commitment to each other and Luke slipped the simple wedding band on her finger. She knew as he kissed her and took her hand that they would never ever let each other go.

  Standing at the door of the church afterwards, they talked to everyone, all their guests congratulating them, everyone taking photos and hugging and laughing in the sunshine before they headed back to Mossbawn for their reception.

  As they drove up the avenue to the old house, Kim felt as if all her dreams had come true. Ever since she was a little girl Mossbawn had symbolized happiness to her. Even when she was lost and scared and sad, the old house had comforted her, made her feel safe. Now here she was with Luke, her handsome husband, beside her, celebrating their marriage in the place she loved.

  Molly, Gina and Grace had all gone to immense trouble for her wedding and she smiled, seeing that there were flowers everywhere. Pink roses cascaded down the front of the house along with full-headed creeping hydrangeas. The garden and grounds were immaculate – Paddy and Tommy had been on duty all week. Their photographer, Leo, made sure they got lots of photos around her favourite spots, including the woods where she had climbed the tall beech trees and down by the fountain in the pond.

  Molly had insisted they use the rose garden for the drinks reception, as it was enclosed and sheltered, and a sun-trap. There were the painted benches, and tables and chairs had been set up so everyone could relax. There was champagne and prosecco and chilled beers, and Inga and Brendan carried around trays of canapés as guests chatted and everyone enjoyed the party.

  Molly herself, in an expensive beige lace dress and jacket, moved around the garden ensuring that everyone had a drink, introducing people and welcoming them to Mossbaw
n. Rob Hayes was there too, relaxed and at ease, chatting to everyone. Kim was so glad to see her aunt happy again. In his own quiet way, Rob was becoming a part of her life.

  Kim couldn’t believe that she was actually married now. She kept touching the band on her finger to remind herself. It was as if she was in a perfect dream.

  ‘You are such a beautiful bride,’ said Liz, teary-eyed. ‘I can’t believe it – my little sister married and to the nicest guy ever!’

  ‘I can hardly believe it myself,’ she admitted. ‘If someone had said to me two years ago that I would have met Luke and found love, and be standing here in my wedding dress with all the people I care about around me, I would have thought they were mad!’

  ‘Life’s funny, isn’t it?’ agreed Liz. ‘We thought we were a two-child family. We were happy with that, and now there is going to be a new little person in our lives. We’ll probably move – Joe’s always been dying to buy an old house, a doer-upper, outside Dublin. Then crèche fees will be enormous, so it makes no sense for me to keep working full-time. Maybe I’ll just work part-time, or try something else – work from home if we have the space. Can you imagine that?’

  ‘It sounds good,’ Kim encouraged her, relieved, as Liz had been looking so tired and stressed lately.

  Looking around, she could see that Luke’s mum and dad were chatting away with her dad and Carole. It was great that both families got on really well together. She looked over at her cousin. Grace had asked her if she could bring Andrew Lynch from the hotel to the wedding. He was a friend of Luke’s, and even though he was a few years older than Grace they seemed pretty keen on each other.

  ‘He’s a hundred times nicer than all the guys I know from college,’ Grace had confided, ‘and he always makes me feel I’m special!’

  ‘Hey, Mrs Ryan!’ called Evie, sipping a glass of sparkling water and ice. ‘How does it feel to be a married lady?’