by Maria Grace
‘Well, who are they?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know their names, but they work at a company called Google,’ she answered. ‘I tell you what, Em … the service is fantastic!I type my query into the question box, and they answer me straight away! Sometimes they get the answers wrong, but they always try their best. They’ve been a tremendous support for me.’
I smiled and put the kettle on to make everyone a cup of tea.
‘Hello, love!’ Mum came into the kitchen.
‘Hi, Mum. Are you having a nice New Year?’
‘It’s nicer now that we’re all together,’ she replied. ‘Did you have a good night with your friends?’
I nodded as I reached for the milk out of the fridge.
‘Where’s Freya?’ Mum asked Grandma Coalman.
‘Outside,’ Grandma Coalman replied.
Mum frowned a little. ‘It’s a bit chilly to be playing outside, isn’t it? Have you seen that snow?’
‘Leave her to it,’ said Grandma Coalman. ‘She’s wearing a coat, and she’s quiet. That’s good enough for me!’
I was still thinking about the rose bush as the kettle boiled. Jolly Clive had told me that it was very rare to find roses in the winter. Perhaps they weren’t able survive in the cold, and so they’d perished over New Year.
I took the tea bags out of the jar.
‘Make mine a strong one.’ Grandma Coalman nodded to the mugs. ‘I like my tea the way I like my men: strong and sweet!’ She chuckled at her own joke.
I stirred the tea and carried the mugs over to the kitchen table.
Grandma Coalman put her cake in the middle of the table and called Freya to come in and join us.
‘CLOSE YOUR EYES!’ Freya shouted to us from outside the door. ‘I have a special gift for Mum.’
‘Oooo! That’s exciting!’ Mum clapped her hands together.
We closed our eyes. I heard Freya walk into the kitchen.
A wonderful scent filled the room. I breathed in deeply, enjoying the perfumed air.
‘OK,’ said Freya. ‘You can open them now.’
We opened our eyes.
Freya stood next to Mum, holding a bunch of beautiful white roses.
Mum threw her hands over her mouth. ‘Where did you get those, Freya?’ she asked. ‘They’re absolutely gorgeous!’
Mum turned to me and Grandma Coalman for an explanation, but neither of us knew.
‘I picked them from the garden!’ Freya looked very pleased with herself. ‘They grew back last night.’
‘What do you mean, they grew back last night? It’s the middle of winter! Roses can’t grow in this weather!’ Mum got up from her chair and ran out the back door.
There, in the corner of the garden, was our lovely white rose bush. The one which hadn’t grown since my dad passed away, but was now in full bloom for the first time in years.
The sun broke through the clouds, lighting up the crisp winter’s day and highlighting the rose bush in all its pure white glory.
The white rose bush had left the park and come to us!
That must have been what Dad meant in my dream, when he said that the roses were ready for us. Maybe the dream wasn’t just a dream, after all.
But how could it grow back in one night? Was that even possible?
I gave up trying to work it all out. If I had learned anything over the last couple of months, it was that some things are just meant to be accepted as they are. Human beings want to put an explanation to everything, but the truth is that every day, we are surrounded by thousands of little synchronicities that we are mostly unaware of. Some of them, we can see, hear, smell, taste and touch. And some, we can only feel with our hearts – if we blink, we miss them. Sometimes, we just have to have faith.
I looked across at Mum. She had the biggest smile on her face. ‘I can’t believe it!’ She started giggling.
‘They’re from Dad,’ said Freya.
We turned to her.
‘I’ve tried to tell you before.’ Freya stood with her hands on her hips. ‘But you never listen to me! When I brought those roses to you in the hospital, Dad told me to get them for you. He told me to get white ones, but I liked the yellow ones best. Sorry about that!’
Mum, Grandma Coalman and I tried to take in what she was saying.
Freya continued. ‘When we all went out to dinner, Mel had little white roses on her bag. I tried to tell you then that Dad had visited me the week before and told me that you like white roses. But you shouted at me for saying it!’
We all stared at her.
‘And when we put the Christmas tree up, I gave you that bauble with the white rose on it, but you didn’t take any notice of me!’ Freya sulked. ‘I’ve tried loads of times to give you something from Dad. He so wanted you to have a white rose. But you just … never … listen.’
‘What do you mean, Dad tells you?’ Grandma Coalman asked.
Freya looked at Grandma Coalman as if she was stupid. ‘He tells me. He speaks to me. You think these two are the only ones in this family who are psycho?’
‘Psychic,’ Grandma Coalman corrected her.
‘Yeah, that’s what I said.’ Freya waved her hand dismissively. ‘Nana Rose could see stuff, Mum can feel stuff, and Emmeline can hear stuff. But I can do all three!’
We gawked at her, our mouths open.
‘I did try to tell you agesago,’ Freya said to Grandma Coalman. ‘You said that the word angel means messenger, remember?’
Grandma Coalman nodded at the memory from Christmas.
‘Well, I’m a messenger!’ Freya grinned proudly. ‘That’s how I can do everything that Nana Rose, Mum and Emmeline can do – because I have to be extra strong to be a messenger. And I’m the first one in our family to ever be one.’
I was stunned. This meant that Freya was a…
‘A Channel,’ said Mum.
Grandma Coalman looked like she was going to faint.
I turned to Mum. She was holding the bunch of white roses that Freya had given her. She started crying quietly. Not sad tears, but happy tears.
‘Dad said that they’re important because they’re like our name,’ Freya said to Mum.
Mum looked up and nodded. ‘Rose,’ she said. ‘It was a joke between us, because I wouldn’t change my name to Coalman when we got married.’
Grandma Coalman wrinkled her nose in disapproval.
Mum smiled at me. ‘A white rose,’ she said.
I knew in that moment that this was the sign Mum had been waiting for, all this time.
We stood with the fresh winter’s chill on our cheeks. The glow of the New Year sun pushed its way through the clouds. The sky was glittery from the snow.
I admired the beautiful rose bush that had once again blossomed in our garden, and my heart was filled with a sense of magic, as the white petals sparkled and shone like velvet in the sunlight.
CHAPTER HEADINGS
We held a competition for the drawings for the chapter headings for artists aged 11-18. It has been a joy to see the wonderful work sent to us. The selected shortlist worked with the author, Maria, to produce a piece that would fit each chapter. Our congratulations to the artists selected, listed here, we really appreciate the excellent work you’ve put into this, and our great thanks to everyone who entered.
Chapter 1: Saima Ali – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 2: Kristopher Ware – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 3: Seren Fowler – Ysgol Gyfun Garth Olwg, Pontypridd.
Chapter 4: Aerun Edwards – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 5: Morghann Linnett-Richardson – St Edwards College, Liverpool.
Chapter 6: Brandon Wangiel – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 7: Lily Beer-Doblon – Ysgol Penglais School, Aberystwyth.
Chapter 8: Marion Williams – Willows High School, Cardiff.
Chapter 9: Lauren Mogford – Ysgol Gyfun Garth Olwg, Pontypridd.
Chapter 10: Rachel Paige Cooper –
Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 11: Lily Beer-Doblon – Ysgol Penglais School, Aberystwyth.
Chapter 12: Olivia Grace Thorne – St. Clare’s School, Porthcawl.
Chapter 13: Menna Prior-Smith – Bedwas High School, Caerphilly.
Chapter 14: Marion Williams – Willows High School, Cardiff.
Chapter 15: Emily Davis – Ysgol Gyfun Garth Olwg, Pontypridd.
Chapter 16: Dylan Casey – St. Clare’s School, Porthcawl.
Chapter 17: Petra Silva – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 18: Morganne Iles – Ysgol Gyfun Cymer Rhondda, Porth.
Chapter 19: Rachel Paige Cooper – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 20: Rosie Phillips – North Walsham High School, Norfolk.
Chapter 21: Steffan Jones – St. Clare’s School, Porthcawl.
Chapter 22: Lucy Hunter – The Folkestone School For Girls.
Chapter 23: Jess Evans-Equeall – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 24: Aerun Edwards – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 25: Jack Stocker – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 26: Marion Williams – Willows High School, Cardiff.
Chapter 27: Stella Marie Sheppard – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 28: Petra Silva – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 29: Jess Evans-Equeall – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 30: Rosie Phillips – North Walsham High School, Norfolk.
Chapter 31: Lowri Keane – Radyr Comprehensive School, Cardiff.
Chapter 32: Bibiana Viazzani – St. Clare’s School, Porthcawl.
Chapter 33: McCory Harris – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 34: Lucy Buckland – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 35: Brandon Wangiel – Coleg y Cymoedd, Nantgarw.
Chapter 36: Lily Beer-Doblon – Ysgol Penglais School, Aberystwyth.
Chapter 37: Charla Marie Grace – Ysgol Gyfun Garth Olwg, Pontypridd.
Scene break rose: Jamie Smith, Pontypridd.
AUTHOR’S ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would like to express my gratitude to the many people who have been with me over the course of the years, and I ask forgiveness of all those whose names I have failed to mention. Whether it was yesterday, or when I first started the book, whether it was one time, or a hundred, thank you. You all know who you are.
Janet Thomas & Penny Thomas at Firefly Press: thank you for seeing the diamond in the rough.
Beth Reekles, Rhian Elizabeth & Philip Gross: thank you both for your time and your quotes!
Paul Lavagna, Nantgarw Students & Staff: thank you for the time and effort you put into the White Petals project.
White Petals Illustrators: thank you so much for your time, effort and creativity. I’m so proud to have your illustrations in the book.
Gav & Lou: thank you for always letting me stay at your flat when I was working on the book in London.
Kelly Cairns: thank you for giving Megan a name. Thanks for Steps & for S-S-Samuel.
Jan Delbridge, Jan Clunn, Sherry Evans & Yvonne White: thank you for the support, the Friday nights, and for teaching me so much.
Rhondda Cynon Taff & Caerphilly Borough Council: thank you to all the social workers, mental health professionals and young people in care. Your input really helped me to write the novel as authentically as possible.
Rob Middlehurst: thank you for always getting it, and for being the best dissertation tutor that I could have asked for.
Philip Gross: thank you for teaching me how to write for the reader, instead of myself.
Gemma Starling, Rebecca O’Sullivan, Danielle Bowen, Gunita Sapa, Rosalie Jones & Glamorgan Classmates: heartfelt thanks for the workshops & feedback, the friendship & support, the faith & guidance.
Karina Gregory & Dewi Mitchell: thank you for always getting excited with me, and helping me with story ideas!
Gareth Jacob: thank you for the guidance, the dinners, the first laptop, and for being my best best mate.
Anna Davis: thank you for helping me to be objective with the story, and for the ongoing support.
Curtis Brown Creative (2011): Anna, Jake, Emily, Chris, Barney, Bob, Jessie, Dan, Jo, Catherine L, Catherine B, Gill, Nan, Amy, Liesel and Antonia: warmest thanks for the Captain’s Cabin, the encouragement, and all the workshops. Also, thank you for making me keep the lucky cardigan!
Family:
My lovely family: Mam, Gav, Kaylee, Auntie Tina & Nanny: thank you for the family dinners, afternoon tea, the support, guidance, laughs & loyalty. I am truly grateful to have you all in my life. If I could choose again, I’d still choose you lot – every time.
My extended family: thank you for the dinners, the laughs and all the alcohol! Both sides of the family are pretty awesome and I feel lucky to have you all in my life.
Charla: thank you for always championing me, even though it is you who is the real champion. You make me laugh every day, and you really are my sunshine.
Jamie: thank you for the endless support, for listening to countless chapters over countless cups of tea, and for being a wonderful companion.
Bella: thank you for your goofy doggy smile, and for keeping me company every day when I write. You’re a better listener than most!
First published in 2015
by Firefly Press
25 Gabalfa Road, Llandaff North, Cardiff, CF14 2JJ
www.fireflypress.co.uk
Text © Maria Grace 2015
Illustrations © the illustrators 2015
The author asserts her moral right to be identified as author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act, 1988.
All rights reserved.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form, binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library.
Print ISBN 9781910080245
epub ISBN 9781910080252
This book was published with support from the Welsh Books Council.
The author wishes to acknowledge the award of a Writer’s Bursary from Literature Wales for the purpose of completing this novel.
Cover image and design by Isabella Ashford