The Garden of Little Rose

by Suzanne Snow

  They barely spoke during the journey, and soon Mac pulled off a narrow lane and bumped up a track that was fenced on one side by sheep netting and an open meadow on the other, sloping down to a beach below the headland. He drew the car to a halt outside a two-storey stone house surrounded by fields; the nearest building glimpsed perhaps half a mile away, further along the coast.

  ‘Thanks for coming this evening, Flora. I’m sure Tamsin will love seeing you again, even though it’s maybe not for the best, given how she is around you. You’ve been amazing with her but you’re leaving in three days and I don’t suppose you want to spend any more time with her than absolutely necessary, just in case.’

  ‘In case of what?’ Flora was astonished by Mac’s comments. Her only reluctance was in battling the constant desire not to miss a moment of his company and spend another evening with him – something she could not reveal. The realisation that he didn’t want her to be around Tamsin any more was a shock. ‘And don’t forget that none of this was my idea!’

  ‘She’s formed a bond with you already, whether you know it or not, Flora, and I don’t want her to be hurt again. I only realised yesterday in the garden just how much she’s taken to you.’ He sighed, a frustrated sound that made her search his face in an attempt to understand.

  ‘Of course I don’t want to hurt her. I only ever wanted to help!’ Flora couldn’t restrain the incredulous note still rising in her voice. ‘I’ve only known her a few days and already I can’t bear to think of what she’s lost. Do you really believe that I’ll just drive away without a backward glance and not mind leaving everything behind?’

  ‘Everything?’

  Flora shrugged, swallowing down the truth. ‘The garden. Tamsin. The island.’

  ‘And is that everything, here, for you?’

  ‘What difference would it make if it wasn’t?’ She knew there was a sharp bitterness in her tone, and she refused to look at him and reveal any more of what she was feeling. ‘We’d better go inside before they start to wonder why we’re still out here.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Flora was still rattled by Mac’s warning and what she’d almost confessed, but there was no time to dwell on it, as the front door was flung open and Tamsin stood there, ready to receive them. Mac bent down to fold her into a hug with gentle tickles that had Tamsin giggling, and Flora resisted the temptation to copy him, her heart softening as she watched the two of them. Tamsin looked up timidly and then her hand reached for Flora, who found herself being pulled into the living room. She laughed as she clutched the bottle of wine precariously under her arm. Tamsin stopped in the centre of the room and Flora paused in surprise, her eyes widening at the view.

  Flora hadn’t realised that the house was perched so close to the headland, making it seem as though they were virtually on the water. A large extension, reaching across the back of the building and made almost entirely of glass, allowed light to flood in, highlighting the Scandinavian feel of the open-plan living room and ultra-modern comfortable kitchen.

  ‘How beautiful, I wasn’t expecting such a view!’

  ‘It never fails to take people by surprise. We must have been lucky with our architect, when we decided to extend.’ Doug grinned wryly at Mac, as he crossed the room to greet them, reaching out to grasp Flora’s hand between both of his and shaking firmly. ‘Hello, Flora. Very glad you could make it tonight. Ah, here’s Moira.’

  A woman – like Doug, probably in her early sixties and much the same height – had appeared from the corridor behind, glanced at Mac with a loving look and directed her attention to Flora. She hurried over, a smile lighting her face, as Doug stepped back to hug Mac, the obvious ease between the two men speaking of years of familiarity. Slim and elegant, Moira had short, grey hair tucked behind her ears and stylish black glasses framing hazel eyes that, like Doug’s, looked sad.

  ‘Flora, I’m so pleased to meet you! How lovely of you to come and join us.’

  Flora wasn’t sure that Mac would agree. Moira’s accent wasn’t so obviously local as her husband’s, and Flora wondered if she had moved to Alana from the mainland.

  ‘You’re most welcome in our home. Tamsin has told us all about you, including how beautiful you are, and I can see she was right.’

  Flora’s face flamed at the unexpected compliment. ‘That’s very sweet of you,’ she murmured to Tamsin, giving her a grateful smile, which was cautiously returned. Then she remembered the bottle of wine. ‘Oh, this is for you. A small thank you for inviting me tonight.’ Flora retrieved the bottle and proffered it to Doug, standing nearby. ‘I can’t claim any glory for choosing it, but I was assured it would make a suitable aperitif, as I wasn’t sure what we would be eating.’

  Doug thanked her, pleased, as he examined the bottle and Moira crossed the room to greet Mac properly. He pulled her into an embrace that had her sniffing as she wriggled away. She joined Doug in the kitchen, taking a salad from the fridge and searching for something to dress it with, as he busied himself collecting plates.

  ‘Something smells delicious,’ Flora said hungrily, trying to stop her mouth from watering in anticipation of what smelled like a marvellous meal.

  ‘Well, it’s just a vegetarian lasagne; I hope that’s all right with everyone. I’d already decided to err on the side of caution, and Doug only remembered to tell me you’d had sausages yesterday once the lasagne was in the oven.’

  ‘I eat anything,’ Flora told her gratefully. ‘I don’t cook very often for myself so a home-made meal like this is an absolute treat.’

  ‘Shall we open your wine?’ Doug directed the question at Flora, his voice carrying easily across the room. ‘I understand Mac’s driving, so can I pour you a glass?’

  ‘That sounds perfect, I’d love to try it. Thank you.’

  Doug reached for glasses and Mac indicated to Flora the bar stools on the sitting room side of the kitchen. She pulled one out and sat down, checking what Tamsin was doing and wondering if she would join them. She was staring up at Flora, her eyes flicking to the door. Flora tried to guess what the little girl wanted and hopped back down from the stool, as an idea came to her.

  ‘Shall we go and have a look at your plants? They might need watering.’

  Tamsin nodded excitedly and Flora was happy to follow her outside. She had barely looked at Mac since she had almost blurted out the truth to him in the car and she was glad of some time to gather her scrambled emotions.

  There wasn’t much of a garden outside, beyond a practical patio stretching around three sides of the house, enclosed by a hedge on two sides and a few scattered pots of evergreens. Tamsin’s precious plants had been carefully positioned in the sunniest spot, attached to bamboo canes and in larger pots. Flora knew that Tamsin was watching as she examined the plants to check if the little girl had done everything right, so she quickly reassured her that they were doing fine. She reminded Tamsin to keep them watered and the canes secure as the plants grew taller. Tamsin visibly relaxed at Flora’s assessment, and she felt her heart melt at the girl’s concern and determination to take care of her plants as best as she could. They returned to the house; Moira was still in the kitchen and Mac had settled on a stool, his fingers wrapped around a bottle of non-alcoholic beer, whilst Doug laid the table.

  Flora sat down next to Mac, sipping her wine, and listened to Doug chatting and perhaps trying to make up for Moira’s silence as she put the finishing touches on the meal. Tamsin was on a stool, too, on Flora’s other side, colouring a picture of The Tiger Who Came to Tea. Every so often she paused, waiting for Flora to choose the colour that she should use next. It wasn’t long before Moira declared the lasagne ready and they all moved to the dining table nearby. Doug brought the salad across and Moira asked them to help themselves, lifting a small portion onto a plate for Tamsin.

  Flora was surprised to notice that her glass was already empty, and Doug refilled their drinks before he joined them at the table and they began to eat. Tamsin was sitting between
Flora and Moira, with Mac and Doug opposite. The lasagne was fabulous and Flora was already beginning to feel the effects of the wine; it usually made her sleepy, but tonight her senses seemed sharper, more aware of her surroundings, and she was finding it difficult to control how her body responded to Mac’s attentiveness whenever their eyes met.

  To distract herself, she asked Moira, ‘Mac mentioned that you run a B&B here? It’s an amazing location, I can see why people would want to visit.’ She noticed the look that passed between Moira and Doug, and he replied first, a small sigh escaping as his gaze quickly went to Tamsin.

  ‘Aye, Flora, we do – or did, anyway, and it kept us busy during the summer months when it’s easier to travel to the island. But since the, er, well you know… what happened,’ he lowered his voice, a flash of grief skittering through his eyes, ‘we decided not to take in guests for the time being. It was just too much to think about. We have a small croft, too, you see, that belonged to Moira’s family. The cottage is rented out, but we farm the land and look after the livestock, and that keeps us occupied enough.’

  ‘Sorry, Flora, I didn’t make that clear before.’ Mac had softened his voice and Flora sensed him gazing at her. Moira sniffed sharply, and Doug reached across the table to touch her arm.

  Flora opened her mouth, not quite sure what she was going to say, but desperate to make amends for inadvertently making the conversation awkward.

  ‘I like seeing the lambs.’ Tamsin’s voice was a whisper but it carried through the open space around them. Her steady blue gaze was flickering between Flora and Mac, and it was to her she directed her words. ‘Can you come with me and see them?’

  Flora’s hand stilled somewhere between the table and her glass as she thought hurriedly of an appropriate response. She saw Mac’s frown opposite her as Doug jumped in.

  ‘Och, Tamsin, Flora won’t have time for that,’ he told her, softening his words with a kind smile. ‘She has to go home soon, remember? We talked about this.’

  Flora wished she didn’t have to refuse Tamsin, but understood it was probably for the best, as Mac had said. ‘Your grandad’s right,’ she told Tamsin gently, seeing the little girl’s eyes fall to her plate and disappointment outlined in the slump of her shoulders. ‘I still have some work to finish in the garden before I leave. I’m so sorry, I wish I could. Maybe if I leave my email address with your nanna and grandad, you could send me some photographs?’

  The idea of staying in touch with Tamsin had been taking shape in her mind over the past couple of days. Irrespective of Mac and what their relationship was – or wasn’t – she was dreading never seeing Tamsin again or being able to find out how she was getting on. Doug was already nodding, although she noticed Moira looking more doubtful. ‘And I’ll need to see pictures of the sweet peas, too, when they flower.’

  ‘Won’t you be coming back?’

  Another whisper, a collection of letters brought together and forming words that Flora did not want to consider. She blinked back the sudden tears scratching at her eyes, desperate for Tamsin and Mac not to see. ‘I don’t think so, I’m sorry. I live a long way from here.’

  Flora saw the look then which passed between the older couple, a shared glance of concern. Mac had been right after all: this evening was a mistake. She wondered how soon she could escape this dinner, before her inability to remain on the island unsettled Tamsin any further. The talk turned to more general matters, and Flora was relieved to move on and learn more of the island’s history and stories, which she encouraged Tamsin to share. When the lasagne was finished, Tamsin suddenly hopped down from her chair, looking up at Flora earnestly.

  ‘Please will you come and see my new bedroom, Flora?’

  This Flora could do, and she returned her glass to the table with a smile for her hosts, as she excused herself. She followed Tamsin along the hallway past three doors, before they reached her bedroom. Flora saw at once that it was a picture-perfect little girl’s room, with pink walls and a low, white bunk bed, with bookshelves and space to play underneath. Fairies and a unicorn were stencilled onto a wall, and there was a photograph of Tamsin’s parents on a dressing table. Flora tried not to stare but her eyes fell on it anyway, and she immediately saw the kindness and energy that seemed to shine from Rachael’s eyes, so like Tamsin’s. Angus had his arms around Rachael, holding her from behind, and his look above her head was very like Doug’s, their faces so similar. Flora was almost winded by the laughing casualness of the picture, barely able to believe that two such young people could have been lost so suddenly. Tamsin took Flora’s hand again and tugged her over to a squashy lilac beanbag, big enough for two, and pulled her down.

  ‘Please will you read me a story?’

  Flora settled into the beanbag with a smile. ‘Of course. Shall we do this one?’ She reached for a book close by. It was a story of unicorns, magical horses and a princess who rescued them from a cruel master, and she began to read, with Tamsin snuggled into her side. Before long, she noticed that Tamsin’s breathing had changed, and Flora saw that she had fallen asleep. Long, fair lashes swept down onto pale skin, her fringe falling to one side, and Flora’s heart clenched with a sudden sweep of love mingled with sorrow for all that the little girl had lost.

  She read on, her voice growing quieter, until she reached the end of the book and placed it on the floor. Unwilling to disturb Tamsin, she sat cuddling her for a few more minutes, until the door opened and Mac appeared. At once his eyes darkened with an unfathomable expression at the sight of Flora snuggling the sleeping child, and she fumbled for an apology as her pulse rocketed.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen,’ she whispered, trying very carefully to disentangle herself. ‘Tamsin wanted a story and then she fell asleep. I didn’t want to disturb her.’

  Mac shook his head, stepping quietly into the little pink room. Immediately, he completely filled her view and it seemed as though the walls were contracting around her. He was too big, too masculine, to be contained in such feminine surroundings, and she swallowed nervously, moving her gaze to Tamsin.

  ‘She looks so peaceful,’ he muttered. ‘Doug’s on the phone, there’s a crisis with a neighbour and a tricky calving, so Moira asked me to see if you were both okay, whilst she shuts up the chickens. Should we lift her onto the bed?’

  ‘Probably best. Hopefully, she won’t wake up.’ Flora wriggled slowly away from Tamsin, who seemed deeply asleep already. Mac bent down, his head very close to Flora’s, and she felt his breath on her neck as he gently slid his arms beneath Tamsin, carefully lifted her up and settled her onto the bed. He turned to Flora with a light smile and whispered, ‘Think we got away with it.’

  Flora was all too aware of Mac watching as she untangled her legs from the beanbag and tried to stand up quietly. She had been leaning with her back against the wall and the pins that were holding her messy bun in place had fallen out. Her long hair, which had dried into uneven waves, spilled down her back and she automatically brought her hands to her neck to gather it back up. Mac spoke, his voice low and hoarse in the quiet of the room, and her heart began to race.

  ‘Don’t.’

  Flora froze, her hands stilled above her shoulders, before letting them slowly fall away. Her eyes flew up to meet his, and she saw the intensity blazing in them, before his gaze dropped to linger on her mouth, and her lips parted in stunned reply. Her body responded immediately: held in check for so long whenever she was around him, and desire raced across her skin, leaving her quivering in anticipation of his touch. He lifted a hand, reaching for her face, and then Tamsin murmured in her sleep, and Mac quickly stepped away. Shock registered in his expression, before he tore his eyes away from Flora’s and they both whirled around to stare at the sleeping girl.

  Horrified by the realisation that she had allowed Mac to see how effortlessly he could arouse her, Flora carefully pulled the duvet over Tamsin with trembling fingers, tucking her in as the racing of her pulse began to slow. Mac was ho
vering behind her and she stepped past him to return to the living room, thankful that her hosts weren’t there. She reached for the glass of wine that Doug had refilled again and gulped it quickly. She was pulling her hair into place, facing the extraordinary view from the huge windows, when Mac soon followed.

  ‘Flora, I—’

  ‘Just leave it,’ she said bluntly, refusing to give him her eyes and let him witness any more of her heart revealed in them. ‘Nothing happened.’

  Doug reappeared a moment later and he sounded cheerful, unaware of the tension between Flora and Mac. ‘Crisis over! The heifer’s delivered a healthy calf, just in time.’ He looked around the room, only just seeming to notice that Moira and Tamsin weren’t there. ‘Moira must still be outside. Where’s Tamsin?’

  ‘She’s asleep,’ Flora told him quickly, her hair more or less back in place, and she gave him a bright smile that couldn’t quite ease the strain she still felt. ‘She dozed off whilst I was reading to her so Mac helped me tuck her into bed.’

  ‘Ah, bless her, it’s been an exciting and tiring day. Thanks, both of you. We’ll pop in and check on her later; she’ll probably need the loo at some point. Well, who’s for the famous lemon meringue pie? I’ll get some coffee going while you decide if you’d like cream or ice cream with it.’

  Flora groaned inwardly, torn between being a polite guest to her lovely and generous hosts and her desire to escape Mac’s company as soon as she reasonably could. The highs and lows of this evening had already depleted her, and all she wanted was the impersonal space of her hotel room. ‘Not for me, thanks, Doug. It was so kind of you to invite me, but I ought to head off now. I don’t want to keep you both up.’

  ‘Och, Flora, don’t be daft, there’s no need to rush off. Moira will think there’s something amiss with her baking!’