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Victoria Connelly - The Rose Girl

Page 24

by Unknown


  Esther frowned. ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like a little glass vase I once bought with my pocket money at the church fete. It wasn’t very special, really, but it was this amazing green colour – almost luminous. I loved it so much. Well, Mum obviously did too, because one day I discovered it sitting on the hall table with a handful of roses in it. “It’s selfish of you not to share it,” she told me. “Now everyone can enjoy it.” I never got it back,’ Evie said. ‘I never really felt like anything was mine with her around. I’d come home from school and wonder what would be missing or what she would have been snooping through.’

  They both turned to Celeste. ‘Did she ever take anything of yours?’ Evie asked.

  Celeste took a deep breath. ‘My sanity? My will to live?’ she said and they all exchanged sad smiles.

  Gertie squeezed her hand.

  ‘You know she had a condition? A personality disorder,’ Celeste said.

  Gertie looked thoughtful. ‘I suspected something like that.’

  ‘Julian told me about it and I’ve been reading about it on the internet. His brother has the same condition,’ she said, turning to each of her sisters.

  ‘You sure she wasn’t just weird?’ Gertie asked.

  ‘Some forms of weird can be diagnosed, and the more I read up on it, the more I realise that there are so many people out there that we may never be able to get along with but that we can at least begin to understand,’ Celeste said. ‘I think that’s important – to realise that the fault doesn’t lie with us and that there was very little we could have done to change her.’

  Evie’s eyes were full of tears. ‘I’m sorry for what I said about you, Celly.’

  Celeste nodded. ‘It’s okay,’ she said, getting up from the table. ‘Look, it’s late. We should be in bed – especially you, Evie. You’re sleeping for two now.’

  Evie gave a weak smile.

  ‘Good night. I’m sorry we disturbed you, Esther.’

  ‘Don’t you worry,’ Esther said. ‘I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.’ And then she gave Celeste the first smile she had ever received from her. Celeste blinked in surprise. It was definitely time to go to bed.

  ‘Celly,’ Gertie said a moment later as she followed her sister and Frinton into the hallway.

  ‘Yes?’ Celeste turned to face her.

  ‘What you said in there – about us turning into Mum. That really worries you, doesn’t it?’

  ‘More than anything in the world,’ she confessed.

  ‘Me too,’ Gertie said.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘What daughter never fears turning into her mother? I can’t think of any!’

  Celeste smiled. ‘When did you know?’

  ‘What? That Mum wasn’t quite right?’ Gertie said. ‘I’m not sure. It kind of sneaked up on me. I mean, it’s hard to really gauge these things, isn’t it? Because everything in a family seems normal when you’re growing up. But I suppose it was when I was reading books – books about happy families. It made me wonder if our situation was normal after all. Then Dad left. At the time, I thought it was his fault but I slowly came to realise that he just couldn’t cope with Mum anymore. Heaven only knows what he went through with her, and I know I didn’t bear the brunt of it like you did with her. But there was one thing, one incident, that made me realise she wasn’t quite right.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘It was that day you disappeared,’ Gertie said.

  ‘You remember that?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ she said. ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘To the woods,’ Celeste said. ‘I wanted to stay there all night but it was pretty cold and uncomfortable.’

  Gertie shook her head. ‘I wish I’d known. I would have come looking for you.’

  ‘I really didn’t want to be found,’ she said.

  ‘I remember what Mum said at the time,’ Gertie said a moment later.

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘That you were impossible to get along with,’ Gertie said, ‘and that you were spiteful and selfish.’

  Celeste swallowed hard. She had heard those words from her mother’s lips hundreds of times, but knowing that they’d been used against her in front of her sisters made her go suddenly cold.

  ‘That’s when I knew there was something wrong with Mum. It was like being hit by a truck to hear Mum lying like that. I couldn’t believe it but the evidence was right before me. My Mum was telling me this big heap of lies and she expected me to join in with her too!’ Gertie gave a hollow laugh. ‘She really thought I was going to side with her against you.’

  ‘I’m very glad you didn’t,’ Celeste said.

  ‘I know it was you who got the worst of Mum’s condition,’ Gertie said. ‘Evie knows that too but she sometimes forgets. I think she’s still really confused as to how she feels about Mum. There are so many mixed up emotions but I’m sure of one thing – she certainly didn’t mean those things she said tonight.’

  ‘Didn’t she?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘But what if she’s right? I know my faults, Gertie. I know I’m not open or warm and –’

  ‘Stop it!’ Gertie said, reaching out to hug her. ‘You’re the warmest person I know. Who else would have run home to bail us out of trouble?’

  They gave each other a hug in the silent, shadowy hallway, the sound of the clock ticking the middle-of-the-night minutes away.

  ‘Why didn’t we all talk together like this years ago?’ Gertie said at last.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Celeste said. ‘It might have helped us cope better with what we were all going through with Mum.’

  Gertie nodded. ‘I used to think her behaviour was my fault,’ she said. ‘It was hard not to when she was shouting me down.’

  ‘Me too,’ Celeste said.

  They looked at each other for a long moment.

  ‘Did you love her?’ Gertie asked at last, and Celeste felt tears pricking her eyes.

  ‘She made it very hard to love her,’ she said, and Gertie nodded.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I don’t think I ever really knew how I felt about her,’ Celeste said.

  ‘Do you think she ever loved us?’ Gertie asked, and her face was that of a child’s again, soft and vulnerable. ‘I mean really loved us?’

  Celeste sighed. ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure she was really capable of it. There were flashes of pride sometimes – if we managed to achieve things that would reflect well on her – but that’s not the same as love, is it? And she certainly didn’t know about unconditional love. That’s the true love of a parent, isn’t it? To love their children no matter what they do or say or achieve?’

  Gertie nodded. ‘Or what they wear?’

  Celeste groaned. ‘Exactly. Let’s go to bed,’ she said. ‘I’m exhausted.’

  ‘Yes, family revelations like pregnant sisters always leave me exhausted too,’ Gertie said and they both laughed.

  ‘I can’t believe Evie’s going to be a mother,’ Celeste said as they climbed the stairs together with Frinton sprinting ahead.

  ‘I’m going to be an aunt!’ Gertie said.

  They walked along the corridor, passing their mother’s bedroom.

  ‘What do you think Mum would have said?’ Gertie asked.

  Celeste took a deep breath. ‘I think she would have said something damaging and upsetting and shown Evie the door.’

  Gertie nodded. ‘I think you’re right.’

  28.

  It was early the next morning when the phone went. Far too early for three sisters who had been up half the night arguing and then bonding. It was Gertie who got to the phone first, immediately regretting her alacrity as soon as she realised that it was their father’s wife, Simone, and she wasn’t in a good mood.

  ‘Don’t you think I don’t know you did this!’ she cried into poor Gertie’s left ear.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Simone,’ Gerti
e said innocently.

  ‘The hell you don’t! I don’t know which one of you it was. It was probably all three of you. Thick as thieves you are, as well as thieves! Well, you’re not going to get away –’

  Gertie held the phone out to Celeste.

  ‘I don’t want it!’ Celeste cried, but Gertie flung it towards her all the same.

  ‘I’ve never known such sneaky, spiteful girls!’ Simone was saying. ‘Your father doesn’t know the half of it. And after all I’ve done for you!’

  Celeste guffawed, causing Frinton to bark loudly.

  ‘Who is it?’ Evie said, coming into the hallway.

  ‘It’s for you,’ Celeste said, calmly handing the phone to her.

  Evie took it from her sister and blanched as soon as she heard the irate voice at the other end of the line.

  ‘Pardon?’ she said. ‘What did you call me?’

  Celeste and Gertie exchanged bemused looks.

  ‘You ring the police?’ Evie continued. ‘It’ll be us ringing the police and telling them about how you stole the painting from Little Eleigh Manor, along with a whole host of other things that are dotted around your house.’

  ‘What other things?’ Gertie asked, and Simone obviously asked the same question because Evie continued.

  ‘Like the candlesticks in the dining room,’ Evie said, ‘and the little glass bowl that was in the hallway. Did you really think we wouldn’t notice, you stupid old woman? Look – don’t call here again, okay?’ And, with that, Evie hung up the phone to a round of applause from her sisters and an excited round of barks from Frinton.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Gertie said when things had calmed down. ‘I don’t think you should really be getting yourself so excited when you’re pregnant.’

  ‘God, yes!’ Celeste said. ‘And when I think what might have happened if you’d fallen from that ladder!’

  ‘I had to do it,’ Evie said.

  ‘I know you did,’ Celeste said, ‘but don’t ever do anything like that again, okay? At least not when you’ve got a baby on the way.’

  ‘Don’t you two start treating me like an invalid, because I’m not,’ she said, pushing her blonde hair out of her face and scowling. ‘I feel fine and I absolutely insist on being me throughout this pregnancy.’

  Celeste gave a resigned sort of look, knowing that no power on earth would get Evie to calm her ways unless she herself decided to take things easy. And that wasn’t likely to happen any time soon.

  She was just thinking about how wonderfully happy she felt that morning and how there seemed to be a certain ease between the three of them now when the phone rang again.

  ‘Don’t pick it up!’ Celeste yelled. ‘It’ll be her again.

  ‘Then I’ll give her what for again,’ Evie said, picking up the receiver. ‘Hello?’ she said abruptly. ‘Oh, Julian! Sorry! I thought you were someone else.’ She laughed. ‘No – everyone’s fine. Yes, we’re at home. Come on over.’

  It was twenty minutes later when Julian arrived. Evie was there to greet him and hollered through the house for Celeste because she’d disappeared into the study again.

  ‘Hello, Celeste,’ he said, his face warmed by his smile as she entered the hallway. ‘I’ve brought you the catalogue.’

  ‘Oh, wonderful,’ Celeste said, pleased to see him again. She led the way to the living room. ‘Cup of tea?’

  ‘I’ll do the honours,’ Evie said.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said as he sat down next to Celeste on one of the old sofas next to the fireplace. He put his neat briefcase on the coffee table and opened it up, reaching inside for the glossy Faraday’s catalogue. ‘Here we go,’ he said, handing it to Celeste. ‘Yours are from page four and on the cover too.’

  ‘How lovely!’ she said, gasping in delight as she saw the painting featured on the cover. It was the Ferdinand Georg Waldmüller painting of the silver vase tumbling over with deep pink roses that seemed to glow out of their dark background. It was luminous and so lovely that Celeste felt a lump in her throat at the thought that she would never see the painting again. Not at Little Eleigh Manor, at least.

  ‘We’ve had a lot of interest in that one,’ Julian told her. ‘The painting we choose for the cover always gets a lot of attention.’

  ‘Thank you for choosing one of ours,’ Celeste said, and he smiled at her and nodded.

  ‘I wouldn’t have chosen any other,’ he said.

  Her fingers were trembling as she opened the catalogue. Page one showed an introduction underneath a photograph of Julian. It made him look intensely handsome and Celeste almost did a double take. Was he really that attractive? She turned to look at him.

  ‘Oh, that photograph!’ he said. ‘I look like a schoolboy!’

  ‘No you don’t!’ Celeste said without thinking. ‘Well, maybe that stripy tie is a bit schoolboyish.’

  ‘I should get a new one done but I hate that sort of fuss,’ he said, waving a hand in the air as if to bat all the attention away.

  ‘It’s nice. You should leave it.’

  He looked surprised by the compliment and Celeste felt her face heating up. She turned her attention back to the catalogue. Pages two and three featured dark, bleak nineteenth-century landscapes, which made the rose paintings that followed absolutely sing, Celeste thought. She read the descriptions and saw the estimated prices, and her heart felt so heavy that she thought she was going to burst into tears again.

  ‘It must be a bit odd seeing the paintings like that,’ Julian said after she hadn’t spoken for some time.

  ‘I feel like the spirit of Grandpa Arthur is looking over my shoulder,’ she said.

  ‘I’m sure he’d tell you that you’re doing the right thing,’ Julian said.

  ‘Would he?’

  ‘He’d understand.’

  ‘Here we are!’ Evie chimed, entering the room with three cups of tea on a tray which she placed on the coffee table. She sat on the sofa next to Celeste, forcing her to move so close to Julian that their legs collided. ‘Heavens! Are those our paintings?’

  Celeste nodded as Evie took the catalogue from her. ‘I’m afraid they are.’

  Evie took a moment to look at them and then gave a little sniff. ‘I wish we could keep them,’ she said.

  ‘So do I,’ Celeste said. ‘But it was either that or lose the north wing. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘I know,’ Evie said, ‘but it still hurts.’

  ‘I can let you have copies of the photographs we took of the paintings,’ Julian said. ‘They’re very good.’

  ‘It won’t be the same, though, will it?’ Evie said.

  ‘Of course not,’ Julian said.

  They drank their tea in affable silence, and then Celeste stood up.

  ‘Thanks for bringing the catalogue round,’ she said. ‘I’ll walk you out. Frinton needs a run.’

  Frinton, who’d been sitting on a rug by the fireplace, stood up, his stumpy tail wagging, and the three of them left the manor together, walking across the freshly mown lawn that sloped down to the river. Frinton ran ahead of them, eager to find something to sniff or roll in.

  ‘This is such a special place,’ Julian said.

  ‘We like it,’ Celeste said, ‘and that’s why we have to make sacrifices to keep it all going. Like selling the paintings.’

  ‘I wish there was something I could do to help,’ he said.

  ‘But you are,’ Celeste told him. ‘I can’t thank you enough for putting one of our paintings on the cover and for getting in touch with Kammie.’

  He smiled. ‘I feel like this place has become a part of me now. Does that sound too presumptuous?’

  Celeste shook her head. ‘This place has a habit of reeling people in.’

  ‘I can understand why,’ he said. ‘I think if I lived here, I’d never want to leave.’

  ‘Well, it’s easy to say that,’ Celeste said.

  ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Sorry – that was insensitive of me.’

  ‘It’s okay,
’ she said. ‘It hurt like hell to leave this place when I did, but it would have hurt even more if I’d stayed.’

  ‘Are you glad to be back?’

  Celeste looked out to the fields beyond the river and a light breeze blew through her dark hair. ‘I love this place but there are so many strange emotions tangled up here that I sometimes hate it too. Does that make sense?’

  Julian nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘it does. But time will change that for you, won’t it? When it becomes more your home – when you’ve put your stamp on it.’

  ‘Ah, time!’ Celeste said with a little laugh. ‘I’m not sure there’s enough time in the world to erase the past for me and I’m really not sure if I can stay here, although’ – she paused – ‘I’m beginning to feel a bit more settled here now, which is something I thought would never happen. Gertie and Evie want me to stay. I know that now. But I’m not sure what to do.’

  Julian gave her a look that was so full of tenderness that Celeste had to turn away.

  ‘You’ve got to let the past go, Celeste, and start making yourself a future, whether it’s here or somewhere else.’

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s one of the reasons I feel it might be a good idea to sell this place.’

  ‘Are you sure that’s the only option?’ he asked. ‘It seems like a pretty final one to me.’

  ‘I know,’ she said, ‘but we really need a lot more money coming than we have at present. The money raised by the paintings will be brilliant, of course, but it’s all going to get eaten up by those long-overdue jobs, and Evie’s doing amazing work with the business. She’s even mentioned hosting weddings here, which could work if we all got behind it. But what we really need is a regular income from something in addition to the rose business.’

  ‘Like rent or something?’

  Celeste nodded. ‘Evie would probably never speak to me again if we sold, but I think Gertie might be all right with the decision. She’s always talking about going abroad anyway. I think selling the manor might be the catalyst she needs to actually do that.’

  ‘But what about you? Where will you go?’

  She shrugged. ‘I’ll get by,’ she said. ‘I usually do.’

 

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