Just as Isabella hooked her leg around Moses’ thigh for the last time and shouted, ‘Ole!’ the café door opened with a bang and a windswept alpha male blew in wearing an expensive waterproof jacket, a green woolly hat and a magnetic smile. Isabella froze in position, but what was fabulous was, on noticing Isabella, Nathan Browne (for it could only be him) also froze on the spot, and his jaw (with rain dripping from his silver stubble) dropped. We all remained suspended in animation for a few seconds before Isabella un-hooked her leg, smoothed her top over her jeans and, with the poise and grace of royalty, held out her hand, smiled and said, ‘Hello, Nathan. May I offer you some tea?’
Seconds later, another soaked soul walked through the door – Nathan’s assistant, Jack – and the realisation dawned on me that Nathan Browne had found his way to the end of the road on the very day we had decided it not worth the bother of baking – we hadn’t even bothered to get supplies, such was the ferocity of the weather. We had just about enough of the basics to knock up a Victoria sponge, but it wouldn’t be triple layer. I could have spit feathers! Rather than accept defeat, I kicked the table on which Anya was still laying comatose, and she awoke in the manner of Sleeping Beauty waking after her long sleep. Nathan was lovely, if a little dumbfounded, and his underling, Jack, was very pleasant and easy to talk to. Isabella made the tea. When asked how on earth she had found herself at The Café at Road’s End, she explained in a deadpan face that she had come to Appledart for the weather. Everyone laughed, and Nathan waited for the real explanation, which wasn’t forthcoming.
Watching Isabella interact with Nathan was a masterclass in how to maintain a mysterious air with an attractive man – but I’ve written too many love stories to be under any illusion: they fancied the pants off each other. I seemed to be the only person who remembered the real reason for Nathan’s visit and, not knowing how long he intended to stay, indicated that Isabella should keep him talking while I shot off to Morir. I decided to take a shortcut across the beach and nail the bucket list, ‘ride a horse on the beach’. Jekyll, sensing the urgency of the trip, shot off in a gallop, but I have not yet learned to gallop properly and was thrown – some considerable way - and ended up in a ditch unconscious. It’s a good job I’m well-padded because I lay there for three hours before Ishmael (I can’t get used to calling him Moses, it just doesn’t suit him) found me. Apparently, Anya had felt a shiver and dispatched a search party. After that there was much commotion and, by hook or by crook, four hours later I was in a cottage hospital and then transferred to Inverness for X-rays and spent a couple of days under observation.
I arrived back in Appledart expecting Nathan to have left the peninsula taking our chances of getting into the guide with him, but I was wrong (and you’re not going to believe this) but the real reason Nathan had come to Appledart was to see Anya – to have his cards read (even though I speculated this might be the case, I was only joking). Despite many attempts at bribery, Anya will not divulge the nature of his reading. Also, and this is the best bit, Nathan and Jack decided to stay on for a few days to help Isabella run the café and to have a little holiday – they’ve been bunking up with Ishmael. It’s all a bit nuts, but Isabella has never looked so radiant (she seems to have forgotten all about the small plums). Nathan and Jack are great company and although I’ve returned to Appledart a broken woman, I’ve had my every need catered for and – get this – that knock on the head must have done me some good because I feel like writing again. Hurrah! But, I’m going to take your advice, Rosie, and write a story about love and friendship – about us. And I’m going to write it in my own name, just for me and you. Are you sure that’s OK?
Love to both of you, Aggie
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Urgent!
Date: 15 June
Hi, Gethyn
Very quickly – you need to stop Rosie from lending money to her brother. She will never get it back! He’s not a good man. He still owes me £800 – since we were eighteen, it was my university savings. Rosie doesn’t know this – don’t tell her. She adores him.
Thanks, Aggie.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Stuff
Date: 15 June
Hi, Aggie
Thank God you’re back on form – I’ve missed you. And of course it’s OK to fictionalise our story, I wouldn’t have suggested it if not.
It’s more or less a full moon tonight so I’ve taken a leaf out of your book and written my dreams down on a piece of paper. I’m going to burn the paper, just as you did, and send a prayer up to the Universe. I actually only have one dream – for peace.
Why aren’t you telling me about your admirer, Jack? Have you found the man you dreamt up in your ritual after all?
With oodles of love,
Rosie
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Stuff
Date: 15 June
Oh, Rosie. You’re so right. Peace is everything. I’m so sorry about Josh. Focus on the wonderful life you have to look forward to. You’re an amazing woman – just look at what you’ve just gone through. We’ve got a hell of a lot of laughing and dancing to do, you and I. So, pack your coat and grab your hat, leave your worries on the doorstep,. and come to Appledart for a holiday as soon as you get back.
I got to thinking about our bucket list today. Did you notice that as eighteen-year-old women, on the whole, we sought out adventure together – as friends - beyond romance? When did I lose that certainty of independence? Also, in terms of the fulfilling of these adventures, I see that it can easily become a list to be ‘ticked off’ before moving swiftly onto the next adventure. Surely, for the bucket list to be of real value, I should meet my need for adventure only when, in doing so, I’m experiencing a true human connection with the thing that I’m doing. In the case of the beach ride, as I was not connected with the horse, with nature or with myself, is it surprising that I fell?
So, I’m taking my fall as a sign that I need to put the bucket list to one side for a while and that I should, instead of dashing here there and everywhere, consider rooting myself in this time and this place. I feel a sudden urge to force my feet into the Earth, stand tall, and allow myself to develop roots – imagine them sprouting out from the souls of my feet. Big fat anchoring roots and mini, tendril, feeding ones. I want to become fixed, tree like, stand tall (and be just a little bit lofty). Maybe then, I’ll stop falling.
As for my admirer, he’s very sweet and very smitten, even though I look like I’ve been through a mangle and I haven’t encouraged him AT ALL. I only had an hour in the café with him and Nathan before I shot off on Jekyll, but he keeps popping round because he feels like a gooseberry in the café with Nathan and Isabella. In fact, I really am turning into a tree because I’m quite standoffish with him and haven’t put a brush through my hair in a week (why are men much more interested in you when you are less interested in them?). I haven’t kissed him (which is a first for me), much as I think he would like to, my excuse being that my mouth is too bruised from the fall. In summation, he’s handsome, kind, caring, quite funny and affable – he’s a nice man. A few months ago, I would probably have gone for it, but a switch has been turned in my head, and I don’t feel a desperate need to be in a relationship with just anyone, anymore. He’s not for me.
Love, Ag
P.S. Gethyn suggested visiting me.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Re:
Date: 16 June
Hi, Ag
You passed up on a snog with a handsome man and now you want to be a tree? That’s it, I need to get to Appledart sharpish before you turn into Yoda!
Did I tell you I fly home on 2 July? I’ll be homeless initially, but at least I’ll be home in Blighty. I’ve got a month’s post-deployment leave a
nd so I’ll probably look for somewhere to rent in Exeter, but I don’t want to work at the Met Office anymore. What should I do with my life, Aggie? Maybe we’ll come up with something when I’m in Appledart. Can’t wait.
Love, Rosie
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Gethyn (again)
Date: 17 June
OK, so I know I’m a lofty independent tree, blowing gracefully in the breeze now, but should I follow up on Gethyn’s request to come to Appledart? He said he wanted to visit. Am nervous. I don’t want him to think I’m ‘loose’. Also, I look like shit.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Gethyn (again)
Date: 17 June
No offense, Ag, but you flew to Venice to shag a total stranger; just saying. Let him come.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Gethyn (again)
Date: 17 June
But that’s exactly the point. Paddy was a stranger. This is Gethyn and I don’t want to mess it up. Shit, you haven’t told him about Venice, have you?
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Gethyn (again)
Date: 17 June
Of course not. By the way, what’s the latest with Isabella and Nathan?
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Appledart
Date: 17 June
Hello, Gethyn
Sorry about the abrupt last email, and sorry I was unable to reply to your previous email straight away. Of course you can come to Appledart, you could stay at the pub or with Ishmael. I’m sure he would be happy to have you to stay.
Let me know what you decide. I’d love to meet you.
Aggie
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: In Other News …
Date: 18 June
Hi, Rosie
Oh, yes, Isabella.
Well with me laid-up and useless, Isabella took to the helm at the café. Nathan decided to extend his stay at the pub (with Jack) so he could help Isabella run the café (and get his leg over in the process). Nathan has risen in the ranks from ‘shithouse’ to white knight. I could drag out the whole nitty gritty of it, but in a nutshell, they’re shagging, which means – fabulously – that the café’s place in the almanac is secured.
The other fantastic news is that Casey has asked me if I’d like to lease the café from her for the next year. We’re sorting out the details, but I’ve said yes. I’m going to rent out my place at Midhope to raise the money – the one will offset the other. I’m not telling Mum. She hasn’t written or phoned to check that I’m OK after my fall, but I will continue to send love in her direction.
Well, ta ta for now.
A
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Appledart
Date: 18 June
Hi, Aggie
I thought you were getting a bit cocky on a horse for a beginner, you daft mare! Some good news. I’m booked onto an RAF aircraft for the 22 June – I’ve got a one-way ticket home!
Regarding Rosie’s brother – I mentioned that perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to give him the money she’s saved, but she seems to have a higher opinion of him than you. She told me why you don’t like him, but maybe you’re being a bit harsh. Young hearts break hard!
Anyway, that’s about all from me, Thanks for the offer to come to Appledart, but I may do something even more radical and take the rare opportunity of having a month off to go further afield. Also, I hear you have someone staying with you while you’re ill and it’s probably best if I don’t get in the way. For what it’s worth, just in case we lose communication for a while, I think there’s something wonderful about you. You’re an incorrigible romantic and you deserve to be romanced. I hope your new admirer knows that.
Take care,
G
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: No Subject
Date: 18 June
Does Gethyn know about Jack? And how come he knows about Simon??!!
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: No Subject
Date: 18 June
Stop what you’re doing and answer my email! I need an answer right now – ROSIE!
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: No Subject
Date: 18 June
OK, steady on. I only get chance to log on to a computer every so often. Yes, Gethyn knows about Jack but it’s not my fault. Isabella sent us both the same email and said you had an admirer. And I told him about you and Simon a long time before I knew you were interested in him – I was explaining how we’d lost touch.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: No Subject
Date: 18 June
FOR FUCK’S SAKE, Rosie!!
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Abroad? Why?
Date: 19 June
Pray, sir, what pleasures are to be found abroad that cannot be found here? (I may have stolen that line from an Austen film). And, just for your info, I’m not wrong about Rosie’s brother. I found him in bed with my Mother. Just saying.
Ag
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Abroad? Why
Date: 19 June
Oh my God, your Mother?! Does Rosie know? And as for your original comment, let’s see – diverse culture, language, temperament, climate (need I go on). But honestly, Ag. You already have plenty of company.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Abroad? Why?
Date: 19 June
Yes, I have company, but I don’t have ‘company’ if that’s what you mean. That’s the problem with The Café at Road’s End, people come and never want to leave.
No, Rosie doesn’t know. Her Mother does. Do not tell her.
Ag
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: My Foolish Heart
Date: 20 June
Dear, Aggie
It’s late and I’m all knackered out, so I’m sorry if this letter is to the point, but I’m just going to empty my head into this email and press send, then it’s done.
Although Jack twat-face has the lead on me, deep, deep in my soul I feel that you and I are supposed to meet. I know you may not find me attractive, but what if, by chance, you do? I want to do all the things I read about in your books. I want to squirt honey out of a bottle in the shape of a heart onto your porridge, I want to come to your home and find the door wide open and a note on the kitchen table that reads, ‘Upstairs, now, you beast!’ I want us to have dinner parties and to look across at your smiling face as you converse merrily with someone (who is actually very annoying) at the table and know exactly what you’re really thinking behind the smile – ‘he’s a cock’.
And I know you’ll be thinking that I’ve been drawn-in by all the sex scenes, which, I admit, you do write particularly well. But honestly, it’s not that at all (well, not entirely). It’s difficult to describe, but I know you, Aggie – the real you – the generous you, the you that sits alone at night, providing so much joy for others while taking very little back yourself. I know the angry you, the passionate you, the zesty you, the hilarious you.
Basically, all I want to do, Agatha Braithwaite, is run away from this hell hole and keep on running until I step off that little boat onto that funny little crag of Scottish wilderness y
ou call home, and if I’m really lucky, we won’t feel a moments awkwardness, but look into each other’s eyes and just know that everything we’ve both been searching for will manifest in each other.
But whatever you do, don’t fall in love. Wait for me.
Be my Scheherazade, tell me your stories.
Yours, Gethyn
P.S. Oh, and for some final doctorly advice, do yourself a favour and get your arse off that settee, stride out onto that beach and get some fresh air.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: My Foolish Heart
Date: 21 June
Dear, Gethyn.
Jack has gone.
Ag
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: My Foolish Heart
Date: 21 June
Good. Why?
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: My Foolish Heart
Date: 21 June
He wasn’t you.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Happy Ending?
Date: 21 June
What if I disappoint you?
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Happy Ending?
Date: 21 June
Dear, Gethyn
So this is how I feel.
I don’t want to rush into a relationship or have sex with you or experience anything more than friendship, at the moment.
Yes, my gut feeling is that you may just be the person I’ve been waiting for all of my life. But here’s the rub: in some of my novels, I have absolutely no doubt that, after the last turn of the page most of the relationships wouldn’t last the year out. But what if you and I really could live happily ever after? I believe this will only happen if you come to Appledart as a friend and with no expectations. If we are to fall in love, then let’s fall in love over time – gently, tenderly (you do realise that I’ve turned into you and you’ve turned into me?)
Dear Rosie Hughes Page 20