The Little Island Flower Stall

Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

Rory’s reply came within minutes of Bella’s text.

That’s incredible! I didn’t know any of that. Thank you for messaging me!

It’s no problem, thought you might like to know. Have you found anything more at your end?

My nose has been in records at the library all day. I’ve done quite a bit of family tree tracing.

Sounds like fun.

Is that sarcasm?

Bella smiled at the message. Still no mention of a partner or children. She wondered what that meant and then wondered why it should mean anything to her at all. She typed a reply.

Honest it’s not. I’ll let you know if I find anything else.

Thanks, that would be amazing. You’re probably busy, but I was thinking about going to visit the war tunnel museum in St Lawrence. I wondered if you might like to come with me. I understand if you’re too busy, of course.

When?

I was thinking maybe Sunday?

The stall will be closed so that sounds nice. Not nice, I mean interesting, of course, not nice.

Bella blew out an impatient breath. Why had she sent that last one?

I’ll check out the opening times and let you know.

Bella acknowledged his message and then locked her phone. Celestine was sleeping on the chair in front of the television. It had been an early start, and despite her determination to keep up with Bella, she’d nodded off almost as soon as they’d finished dinner. Bella wondered whether to wake her and tell her to go to bed, but then decided against it for the time being. If she wasn’t careful, it would really seem as if she was treating her aunt like a child who needed looking after, rather than a largely independent and smart relative who was only asking for some support to keep her precious business going. Bella’s urge to take care of her was strong, but that wasn’t why she was here. Celestine had come home from the hospital after her fall and taken care of herself for a good week before Bella’s arrival and she’d been just fine. Granted, she’d had a few visits from healthcare workers, but most of it she’d done herself.

Bella watched her sleep for a moment. She looked older and frailer without that shrewd, bright look she had when she was awake. It was hard to imagine her now as a young girl, roaming the island, the rest of her life only a distant dream yet to come. How had she ended up with Bella’s great-uncle Roland? To Bella, they’d never seemed suited, and Dolly had told her earlier how Roland had been into Violette. He’d been more Violette’s age too, older than Celestine. And Celestine had known him the whole time – they’d been friends. Who had he sided with once Celestine’s friendship with Violette had ended? Clearly at some point he’d come over to Celestine’s side, but at first? Had their falling-out been something to do with him? When had he and Celestine moved from friends hanging around together to more than that? How big a part had Roland played in any of this?

So many questions Bella didn’t have answers to. She wondered if she ever would have answers. They certainly weren’t going to come from Violette or Roland, and it didn’t seem much more likely that Celestine was going to give them to her either. Her best chance of getting to the bottom of the mystery was, ironically, Rory. He wanted to know as badly as she did, and discovering more might ultimately shed light on Celestine’s life all those years ago. It would mean spending more time with him, and that was the bit that worried her. Perhaps worried was the wrong word, but there were misgivings. It was barely a week since she’d left Sean and she was thinking about another man. She reminded herself that she didn’t love Sean and he didn’t deserve a second of her thoughts now, but that didn’t make what she felt about Rory right or good for her. In fact, it might be the opposite of good for her.

She was close to texting Rory to tell him she’d changed her mind about their day out when he beat her to it with the opening times of the museum.

10–5. Shall we meet there at 1? So looking forward to it.

Bella chewed her lip, looking up from her phone at her sleeping aunt and then back again at the message. God, she wanted to go. She didn’t know what she wanted more: answers to all the questions buzzing around in her head or the chance to look at Rory’s infectious smile for an entire day. It was such a terrible idea, and yet she wanted to go more than anything.

Sounds good. 1 it is. See you there!

Telling her internal warning voice to shut up, Bella went to the kitchen to see if there was anything alcoholic in her aunt’s cupboards. A couple of drinks were in order, if only to stop herself overthinking the situation. It was a day out with pleasant company – that was all. What was the problem?

A thorough inspection of the cupboards proved to be disappointing. No booze. Bella had never known her aunt to be a big drinker, but she thought there might have been at least a dusty bottle of Christmas sherry lurking on a high shelf. Perhaps she kept some in the dresser in the living room. She supposed she could go out and find a shop that might still be open, but she didn’t want to go out in case Celestine woke up and worried about where she was.

Going back into the living room, Bella glanced over at her aunt, who was still sleeping on the chair. It didn’t look as if she’d changed position at all, and Bella decided she must have been exhausted. Perhaps it would be a good idea to wake her and persuade her to go to bed after all. Keeping hold of that thought, Bella went to the dresser and opened a few doors as quietly as she could to see what was in there.

Still no alcohol, but her gaze did fall on at least half a dozen large, leather-bound books of some kind. She pulled one from the shelf to find it was a photo album. Bella smiled as she opened it up. On the first page was a photo of Celestine and Roland sitting in the garden together. They were smiling. They looked happy enough. Bella flicked through. There were lots of pictures of people she didn’t know, but her progress was halted when she came to one of a young boy of perhaps five or six.

At first it didn’t register who she was looking at, and then a grin spread across her face as she realised it was her dad. She’d never seen this photograph before. He was on St Rosa’s beach – Bella could tell from the buildings behind him which had since been modernised but were still instantly recognisable. He was in swimming trunks and a T-shirt, holding a bucket and spade with such a look of glee, it was all Bella could do not to break down in happy tears at the sight. Her lovely dad, looking so innocent, so happy, his whole life ahead of him and not a care for what his future might be. It struck Bella as wonderful but at the same time deeply melancholic that the little boy in the photo would have to grow up, that he would encounter happiness like this, but as many times as his life was good, it would be hard too. He would lose people and he would have lows that sometimes felt lower than the highs and, right here, at this moment, on the beach at St Rosa, he didn’t have a clue. Life was a sunny sky and a sandy beach and a head full of childish dreams.

A light clatter from the direction of Celestine’s chair shook Bella out of her musings. With a vague sense of panic, she stuffed the album back into the cupboard and shut the door, turning to see Celestine wake.

‘Drat…there go my reading glasses…’ she mumbled as she tried to reach for them on the floor where they’d fallen from her lap.

‘I’ve got them.’ Bella bent to snatch them up and handed them to her aunt.

‘Oh, I must have dropped off,’ Celestine said, taking them from Bella and putting them into a glasses case. ‘How exciting for you, eh? What excellent company I’m proving to be.’

Bella shook her head. ‘It’s been a long day. Even I’m a bit tired. I was just thinking of getting a nightcap and going off to bed, actually. I wondered…I couldn’t see anything in the kitchen, but I wondered if you had a bottle of something in the house…sherry or whisky or something. Even some wine, though I’m sure you don’t drink wine, do you?’

‘Not so much these days,’ Celestine said. ‘I’m not sure I have anything like that in. If you want, we can get some when we next go shopping. Unless you really needed one tonight, in which case?—’

‘Really, it’s fine; it’s not that big a deal. I suppose I’ll just make some cocoa. Do you want a cup while I’m there?’

‘That would be lovely, and then I ought to go to bed too.’

Bella went back to the kitchen, feeling oddly guilty as she poured milk into a saucepan for their drinks. She hadn’t done anything wrong, as such, so why did she suddenly feel as if she had?

No matter how many times Bella told herself she had nothing to hide, she hadn’t quite managed to tell Celestine about her plans to meet Rory. So when Sunday morning came, she got up early and went into the kitchen to find Celestine already up and dressed, and realised that if she was going to go, she was going to have to say something. She didn’t have to mention Rory, of course, but she would at least have to let her aunt know she was going to be missing for a good few hours.

‘Do you need me to be around today?’ Bella put her hand to the teapot on the table and decided it was still warm enough before pouring herself a cup.

‘I shouldn’t think so. Have you made plans?’

Bella gestured at the pot, and Celestine held out her cup for a refill. ‘Yes, is that all right? I mean, I won’t go if you?—’

‘Of course it’s all right! I didn’t ask you to come here to be my servant.’ Celestine smiled. ‘I’m grateful for any time you can spare to help at the stall, but I’m not expecting you to be at my beck and call. Where are you off to?’

‘I thought I might visit the underground museum.’

‘What museum?’

‘You know, the war tunnels. I think it’s in St Lawrence. It’s in some of the tunnels they dug during the war.’

‘Hmm…’ Celestine sipped at her tea. ‘You’re very interested in the war all of a sudden.’

‘It’s a big part of the island’s history, isn’t it? It’s hard to ignore really, and I’ve become more interested since I got here. It’s hard to understand what went on, but I think it’s important people try to understand, don’t you?’

‘I suppose so.’ Celestine was silent as she sipped once more at her tea. ‘It was such a long time ago,’ she continued. ‘I know what you say is true, but sometimes I wonder if it’s better left in the past.’

‘I’m sure you must feel that way because you lived through it. Must be painful to remember?’

‘Yes, sometimes. But don’t let that stop you from going to your museum. What time are you thinking?’

‘I thought I’d finish breakfast, tidy round a bit and then head off.’

‘Don’t mind this place – go whenever you’re ready. I can tidy up.’

‘No, I’ll do it. It’s the least I can do in return for staying here rent free.’

Celestine put down her cup and smiled. ‘If you really want to. Thank you.’

‘I should be the one thanking you. I’m having a lovely time so far.’

Celestine raised her eyebrows playfully. ‘Even though you’re working?’

‘Especially the working. I’m really enjoying learning everything about flowers.’

‘You might not be saying that next week. We have all those arrangements to do for the Liberation Day celebrations, remember? It’s going to be busy – we might even have to work over a few evenings to get them finished. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come over to help me. I’m sure I would have been at work morning, noon and night. It would probably have finished me off.’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘I’m an old lady, even if I try to pretend I’m not. Who knows how long I’ve got…’ Celestine chuckled softly. ‘Still, I’d rather not fall off my perch from exhaustion with my face in a bucket of carnations.’

‘I’m looking forward to the celebrations. I haven’t seen them since…I think I was about nine or ten. We didn’t stay with you that time; we were at a hotel. Not sure why, now I come to think of it.’

‘I expect your uncle Roland was ill. He was ill a lot later on. His heart, you know. He never looked after himself, and he didn’t make it easy for me to look after him either.’

‘Do you still miss him?’

Celestine looked up at Bella, and her next words took her by surprise, even though she’d half suspected it to be the case. ‘Not really. I miss having company, but…’ She let out a sigh and shook her head slowly. ‘That sounds terrible, doesn’t it? I’m sorry for saying so, but he wasn’t easy to live with at the end. He wasn’t that easy to live with in the beginning either. When I look back, I often wonder what drew us together.’

‘But you loved him?’

‘Yes. At least, I think so. But I never had another man, so…’

Celestine’s gaze went to the window. Bella wanted to ask more, but she got the feeling the conversation was over – at least for now. Her thoughts went to what she’d been told by Dolly. Celestine, Roland, Violette and her sister Anais, and Dolly had all been friends way back in their teenage days. And then it had ended – suddenly and with bad feelings, from what she could gather, a fallout between Celestine and Violette that had broken up the entire group. That fact alone made it even stranger that Celestine and Roland had ended up together. Could it be that Dolly’s recollections weren’t entirely accurate? Otherwise it was hard to understand why Celestine would have ended up marrying Roland.

Bella drained her cup and got up. ‘I think I’ll have a bath before I eat; I’m not hungry just yet.’

Celestine’s reply followed Bella as she left the room. ‘Make sure you eat something before you go out. Don’t want you getting faint later!’

The bus to St Lawrence was busier than she’d expected, and Bella had spent the ride crammed into her seat next to a very tall man whose legs seemed to be wherever she wanted to put hers at all times. It was hot and sticky on there, even with a window open, and every time the man coughed without covering his mouth, Bella imagined a new disease she might have just caught.

The journey had started serenely enough, and the man hadn’t bothered her at all, but then she’d been foolish. She’d done the thing she ought to have saved for that evening when she’d arrived back at Villa Rosa. She’d opened her inbox to check her emails.

There, at the top of the list, was an email from Sean, basically laying out what he saw as the terms of their divorce – none of them giving her an inch. She hadn’t wanted to profit from this, only to escape with what she felt she was due, but Sean was making it clear he intended to leave her with nothing. All the years she’d set aside her own career, her own path to support his, just as he’d asked – she realised now it had never been about anything but power. He hadn’t wanted to care for her out of some endearing if outdated sense of chivalry; he’d only sought the control that her lack of independence would give him. It felt like now, when she was at her lowest, when she needed that money the most, she was going to pay a heavy price for letting him get away with it for so long. How could she have been so stupid?

She’d fight, of course. She might even have a decent chance of winning, but it wasn’t a fight she’d been looking to have. She’d only wanted to slip quietly out of his life, for them both to move on and put the last fifteen years behind them. She wasn’t even angry about his infidelities now – to be angry with him at this point was like being angry at a pigeon for crapping on a pavement as it flew overhead; the pigeon couldn’t help crapping on the pavement because it was a pigeon. And Sean couldn’t help wanting to sleep with every woman who walked by because he was Sean. It had taken too long to understand that, but she understood it well enough now. She only wanted to leave with some of her dignity intact, however little that might be, and with some chance at a new start. But it seemed Sean had other ideas. He wanted to pulverise her to nothing, to destroy any dignity or agency she might still have, to smash any fond memories she might be holding on to from the last fifteen years of marriage before he let her go.

Fine. Bella hadn’t been looking for a fight, but if Sean wanted one, he’d get one. Since her arrival in Jersey, she’d been too busy – and frankly too happy – to instruct a solicitor. Perhaps it had been a case of sticking her head in the sand, but the first thing she was going to do when she got back to Villa Rosa was to find one.

Running the words of the email over and over in her head, by the time she neared the final stop on her route, Bella was agitated, already regretting her arrangements with Rory. Why had she thought this a good idea? As if life wasn’t complicated enough, she’d added him and all the secrets she was having to keep from Celestine to the mix. But when she stepped off the bus and found him waiting at the stop for her, Bella’s resolution to put some emotional distance between her and Rory almost failed. They’d agreed to meet at the museum, but the fact he’d taken the time to work out her bus route and come to meet her was sweet. She wasn’t used to sweet, and as she saw him break into a warm smile, her resolve crumbled.

‘Have you been here long?’ she asked as she walked over. ‘I thought you said you had some things to do first so we’d be meeting at the museum when you were done.’

‘I did, but I decided they’d wait. I thought it would be easier to meet you here after all. You could have shared my taxi, but by the time I’d called it, I figured you’d have already been on the way.’

‘Probably. You needn’t have worried; I could have found the museum…’

‘I know that, but I thought…You don’t mind, do you?’

‘God no! Of course not!’

They started to walk, leaving the bus to pull away again.

‘I’m really looking forward to this,’ he said. ‘I’ve read loads about it. It’s supposed to be a great place.’

‘I can’t say I know much about it, but it sounds fascinating.’

‘Well, thanks for coming over and keeping me company. It’s OK doing these things by myself, but sometimes it’s nice to share it, and you seemed interested, so…’

‘I am. Very interested. Have you got any more news on your search?’

‘Not at the moment. Quite honestly, I’m starting to think you’re a much better detective than I am. Most of what I’ve learned since I got here has come from you. Looking at parish records and censuses is all very well, but it only tells a fraction of the story.’

Bella recalled how keen Dolly had been to talk to Rory. As for her own misgivings…once she’d reviewed the situation, nothing had changed. Now that she considered it properly, no good could come from getting Dolly and Rory together. Celestine was bound to find out eventually, and who could say how she’d react? Bella couldn’t deny she was still mad with curiosity about the events of that time, but Celestine’s reluctance to discuss it seemed to go much deeper than simply being scarred by her memories of Jersey’s occupation. Was satisfying her curiosity worth upsetting her aunt? Sure, Bella had come to St Rosa to help Celestine, but when she thought about it, she was getting the best end of the deal. Here she had a chance to breathe, no real responsibility, six weeks in the most beautiful place, a chance at a new beginning and to rebuild her pride in herself, and all that was largely due to the kindness of a great-aunt who hadn’t had much attention from Bella over the last fifteen years. Looking at it that way, Bella felt guiltier than she had the other day when she’d almost been caught snooping through her aunt’s dresser. Surely Celestine was entitled to keep any secrets she chose to?

Bella looked up and saw a large noticeboard advertising the museum, with an arrow pointing the way to the entrance. ‘I think this might be it,’ she said, nodding at it.

‘That was quick. Didn’t think it would be so close.’

He got out his wallet as they walked to the payment booth. Bella unzipped her bag and dug around for her purse, but before she could get it out, he’d asked for two tickets and pressed his card to the reader.

‘You didn’t have to get mine,’ Bella said.

He turned to her with a smile. ‘It was my idea, and I’m happy you came. Let me treat you.’

‘Since you put it like that, I’m actually doing you the favour, right?’ Bella grinned back at him.

‘Exactly.’ He handed her one of the guide leaflets he’d been given at the entrance booth. ‘You can earn your keep by helping me make sense of the exhibits. I’m bound to miss something.’

‘Ah, so that’s why I’m here? Backup!’

‘It’s not quite like that. I also really like talking to you, so there’s that.’

‘Hmm, so backup and entertainment?’

His laughter grew. ‘I’m not handling this well, am I?’

Bella smiled up at him. ‘I’m only winding you up. Sorry.’

‘Don’t be – I like it. Feels like a long time since I’ve been able to banter with someone like this.’

Bella wanted to ask why that was, but he stopped at the introductory exhibit and was already engrossed in reading the information board. ‘Jeez, would you look at this,’ he said, his eyes not leaving it. ‘Five thousand slave workers…a thousand metres of tunnel by hand. Must have been hell on earth. You can’t begin to imagine it, can you?’

Bella went to stand next to him, following the same words. She wanted to absorb it, as he was doing, but she was far too conscious of his body heat. Even when she inched away, she could still feel it, as if it were pulling her back. Trying to get a grip, she could only thank her lucky stars that this was hardly a romantic destination and at least she could be certain they weren’t on an actual date, because if there’d been any hint of a date, she might not have been able to control herself. No, this was only to discover more of Jersey’s past – something they were both keen to learn more about – and that was good.

They moved through the dimness of the tunnels, lit only where there were more items on show: old work boots, shovels and picks, ancient food tins with faded labels, black-and-white photos of streets patrolled by lines of young men in soldiers’ uniforms. At each one Rory stopped, taking in every detail, sometimes making notes in a book he’d pulled from his rucksack. They’d discuss some aspect and Rory would offer an opinion, asking for Bella’s take on it. She learned more at each juncture; not only about the island and the time of occupation, but also about him. The more she learned, the more she understood, but the more she understood, the more she realised there was still so much she didn’t know.

When they came to a section about life for ordinary people during the occupation, about how it challenged family and community bonds and how some even grew to feel sorry for the occupying forces, how some chose to betray their own and some risked everything to help escaping prisoners, they were both silent, reading side by side. Bella finished her section and shook her head. She didn’t even know where to begin. She’d told Celestine she wanted to understand those times, and while it had been partly a ruse for her visit here today with Rory, it was true. She did want to understand it, but no matter what she saw here today, she didn’t think she would ever truly comprehend what life must have been like during those years. It did help her to see why Celestine chose not to talk about it.

Rory finished a moment later and looked at her. ‘Wow. I don’t even know what to say.’

‘Me neither.’

‘My great-grandmother lived through all this. Your great-aunt too.’

‘And my uncle Roland. And Dolly.’

‘It’s insane. Look at this…’ He pointed to a photo of a young woman. ‘Imagine that. Having your husband dragged away by the soldiers and never seeing him again. All because he had a radio and they were forbidden.’

‘It was no time to be in love, was it?’

‘Not for them, it wasn’t.’

‘It’s so weird to be standing here looking at their photos and reading this like it’s a story. Like they’re both a story. It doesn’t feel like it could possibly be real.’

‘I know. But it is real. It’s part of our pasts – yours and mine. Not just because we’re alive now with the war behind us, but because we had Violette and your great-aunt and uncle all living here while this was happening.’ Bella watched as his expression became suddenly earnest, intense, so much more alive than it had been at any point that day. ‘To uncover a story just like this…It’s about me, yes, but it’s about this.’ He tapped on the information board. ‘It’s about real, lived history. That’s why it means so much. These stories shouldn’t be forgotten; they shouldn’t be lost to time. They matter.’

Bella stared at him. She couldn’t help it. She’d never seen Sean this passionate about anything. She wasn’t sure she’d seen anyone this passionate about anything. It did something to her, something strange and wonderful. It was infectious. She wanted to feel that passion too. She wanted it to matter to her as much as it did to him. It did, in a different way. To her, it still felt so removed, despite seeing the evidence here in front of her eyes. But Rory seemed to be living the memories of others, right now, as he stood in the tunnels dug by people who’d had no choice, on an enslaved island where nobody had been able to escape. He was full of the real, lived experiences of every one of those people, most nameless and faceless to all but those who’d loved them.

‘I’m sorry…’ He looked away. ‘I get carried away sometimes. It’s stupid?—’

‘It’s not stupid. I thought it was…’ Bella couldn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t know the words she needed to describe what she thought; she only knew how he’d made her feel, and she certainly couldn’t tell him that. She’d never wanted so badly to kiss a man, not even Sean at the height of her infatuation with him.

He cleared his throat and gave her a sheepish smile. It was so adorable it hardly helped. ‘Should we move on?’

‘Yes.’

‘I should have asked: is your great-aunt expecting you back at a certain time? I mean, she wouldn’t worry about you if you were out for a while?’

‘I don’t think so. I could always phone her, but I don’t think it will be too late – the museum closes at five, doesn’t it?’

‘I know, but I wondered if you maybe wanted to get dinner afterwards? I mean, I’d be eating alone so I’d be glad of the company. But if your aunt is expecting you then, of course, I wouldn’t…’

‘I could phone her to let her know I’ll be late. I don’t think she has any particular plans for us to eat together.’

‘I mean, it’s OK, isn’t it? I know you said about your divorce and how you weren’t looking to…It’s not a date. I’m not trying to get to you in that way, not if you don’t want to. It’s just…I really do enjoy your company.’

‘I’d rather not be reminded of my separation, if I’m honest. I don’t want to think about any of that. Dinner as new friends would be lovely. I appreciate you remembering what I said and respecting that.’

‘Why wouldn’t I respect it? You made it clear.’

Bella nodded. ‘Are you…It won’t have any bearing on dinner, but are you…? Do you have?—’

Her question was cut short by him dashing over to the next exhibit and pulling out his notebook.

‘Bella, come and look at this! I read about this woman last night – her story is incredible!’

Bella went to join him at the information board. She began to read by his side, and although the woman’s story was incredible, she had a very different story playing on her mind. What was his story? Who was at home waiting for Rory? He hadn’t mentioned a wife, girlfriend, even an ex, and yet there had to be someone. Did she need to know? Did she even want to? Perhaps it would spoil the fantasy if she did. While her intention was to keep a respectful distance, it didn’t stop her from dreaming of a fling with him. An island romance with a handsome, charismatic and enigmatic man in search of his own hidden past. It was the plot of a book, surely? Maybe she’d write it one day, though she was quite sure she’d be the only person to read it.

The tour ended with a heartwarming display of photographs taken on Liberation Day, the very same day the island was set to celebrate the following week, as it did every year. They emerged from the tunnels into a garden of remembrance where they took a moment to sit in the tranquil surroundings and share their thoughts about what they’d seen.

‘Today’s been brilliant,’ he said. ‘Thanks so much for coming with me.’

‘I’m sure I didn’t do anything.’

‘You say that, but having you here has been so useful. Just hearing someone else’s perspective on everything makes a massive difference. It all makes so much more sense on so many more levels when I have someone else’s thoughts to add to my own.’

‘Hmm. I don’t know what to say about that. I really only tagged along for a day out, but if it’s been useful for you, then I’m glad.’

He smiled warmly. ‘So let me treat you to dinner.’

‘You’ve already paid for the entry here so?—’

‘Please. You’re doing me another favour by coming to eat with me, so it’s the least I can do.’

‘Only if you let me pay next time.’

‘Next time?’ His smile spread. ‘There’s an offer I can’t refuse! It’s a deal.’