Chapter 15 Rosie
Rosie
I f there was one thing guaranteed to make you aware of the cracks in your own relationship it was being in the same room as a happy couple.
Rosie rescued a decoration that Percy had managed to knock onto the floor and hung it on a higher branch of the tree.
The living room was ready for the small invasion of people later, the food was all prepared and the house looked like a Christmas grotto.
This was normally her favourite part of the season, with Christmas still ahead and all the family gathering together.
Today she felt tired. Keeping up her happy act was draining. Her grandmother had already asked her twice if she was sure she was okay ( being pregnant can make you emotional, you know ), and it had taken all her willpower not to sob on her shoulder.
She would have talked to her dad if she could have found a moment alone with him, but he hadn’t been around earlier and now he was in the study with her grandfather, supposedly working on the famous book that no one in the family believed would ever really be finished.
Her mother was in the kitchen again, putting the finishing touches to an elaborate cake.
Jamie and Hayley were sprawled together on the sofa, scrolling through photos on his phone, occasionally laughing at something. Her head was on his shoulder and her fingers were entwined with his.
Rosie felt a shaft of envy, remembering when she would have done exactly that with Declan.
She rearranged the presents under the tree and sneaked a glance at him. He was reading, settled in an armchair close to the fire.
Had he chosen that chair on purpose so that Rosie couldn’t join him?
And would she have wanted to?
Why was she such an overthinker? It was exhausting. All she really wanted for Christmas was a personality transplant.
“Rosie?”
She glanced up to see her grandmother standing in the doorway clutching her dress.
“Granny.”
“You said you’d help me fix this, dear, but if you’re busy—”
“I’m not busy.” She was relieved to have something else to think about. “Show me the problem.”
“I was planning to wear it for the party tonight but there’s a little tear in the fabric. I’m worried that if I wear it, it might get worse.”
Rosie took the dress and examined it. “I can fix that easily. I’ll put a little tuck in it, so the repair will vanish into the folds.”
“The fabric isn’t easy to work with.”
“It’s fine. Easier than all the tulle I used for the Sugar Plum Fairy. The repair won’t show, I promise.” She turned it inside out and smoothed the fabric, working out how best to do it.
“I love this dress,” her grandmother said. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever owned.”
Jamie glanced up and grinned. “Nothing to do with the fact that your granddaughter made it?”
Phyllis lifted her chin. “Actually, no. This dress makes me feel special. When I’m wearing it I feel like my best self.
I know it suits me, and that’s because it is well designed and well made.
Left to my own devices I would have chosen something safe.
Probably black, navy or caramel because at my age I don’t have the confidence to wear a colour, but Rosie insisted on gold.
I’ve never worn gold in my life before.” She reached out and touched the dress almost reverentially.
“Rosie has such a talent. She’s very gifted, but all you science and mathematically minded people don’t notice.
Declan? Do you realise how extraordinary your wife is? ”
There was a silence, and Rosie saw Declan lift his gaze from the book and look at her.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Yes, I do.”
Rosie’s cheeks caught fire. She couldn’t believe her grandmother had put him in that position. What was he supposed to say? My wife can barely turn on her own laptop , or it would be nice if she could hold an intelligent conversation with my colleagues ?
“You’re embarrassing me, Granny.” She grabbed her mother’s sewing box from its hiding place on the lower shelf of the bookcase and settled down on the empty sofa.
Percy immediately sprang onto the sofa next to her, settling himself against her leg.
“Don’t come too close, darling. I’m using needles.
I don’t want to turn you into a pincushion. ”
“You shouldn’t be embarrassed. You should be proud. When she was young, she had no confidence.” She was still addressing Declan, who had closed his book and was listening politely. “Thought she wasn’t as clever as her sister and brother.”
What was her grandmother trying to do?
“That’s because I wasn’t. It’s time for peace on earth, Granny. Or at least, peace in this living room.” Rosie was tempted to grab one of the Christmas stockings hanging near the fire and tie it over her grandmother’s mouth.
“I used to tell her, there is more than one way of being smart,” her grandmother said. “Some people are quick with numbers, some people are good with words, and others are creative. That’s Rosie.”
“Okay, Granny. Enough.” She threaded the needle and settled the dress on her lap.
“She was the prettiest dancer. If she hadn’t grown those extra few inches, I swear she’d be the talk of the ballet world by now. Have you seen her dance, Declan?”
Only after several glasses of wine , Rosie thought. She caught Declan’s eye and saw a glimmer of laughter there. He knew how uncomfortable she was.
“She’s a great dancer,” he said, the look in his eyes suggesting he was remembering the same evening she was, when she’d danced around their living room, removing her clothes layer by layer.
That memory connected them, and for a moment their tensions evaporated and the invisible barrier between them melted away.
He held her gaze and if there hadn’t been other people in the room she would have gone to him then, curled up on his lap and pressed her mouth to his.
It would have been okay. Everything would have been okay.
She felt as if a few well-placed stitches would pull together whatever rift had appeared. All they needed was some time together.
“You’re not concentrating,” her grandmother said. “You’re going to stab yourself with that needle, and I don’t want blood on my dress.”
She’d been looking at Declan, thinking of how it felt when he kissed her. No one kissed the way Declan did. No one had made her feel the way he did.
Her stomach flipped and she saw his eyes narrow as he registered the look in her eyes.
She cleared her throat.
“That’s what happens when you embarrass me, Granny.” She focused on the dress on her lap, mending it carefully. Given that her grandmother was her biggest supporter, she didn’t want to ruin her dress. Also there was the matter of personal pride.
Her stitches were tiny, her work accurate, but she could feel Declan’s gaze on her and the whole thing took far longer than it should have done.
“There.” She handed it back to her grandmother and closed her mother’s sewing box. “Good as new.”
“Thank you. I can’t wait for tonight when I can wear it.”
Rosie smiled. “It will be fun.”
Percy sprang from the sofa, barking, and Rosie winced as his tail smacked her in the face.
“Great. Thanks, Percy. Now I’ll have a black eye for the party.”
“He heard a car.” Jamie stood up and walked to the window. “It’s Will and Becky. They’re here! Now Christmas can really begin. I can’t wait to introduce you to Becky, Hayley. She’s great. I’m looking forward to catching up with her properly.”
“Me too. We’ve hardly seen her this year.” Declan put his book down and stood up. “I’ll see if I can help with luggage.”
He’d barely spoken this morning but now her sister was here he was on his feet and heading to the door, showing almost as much enthusiasm as Percy.
And just like that, the fragile thread that had briefly connected them snapped again.
Jamie followed him out of the room and Rosie stood up and gave herself a stern talking-to.
She was imagining things. Just because they’d hit a rough patch didn’t mean Declan was regretting marrying her. And it certainly didn’t mean he would have preferred to be with Becky.
She was about to follow her brother and Declan out of the room when she noticed Hayley perched on the edge of the sofa as if she didn’t know whether to follow everyone or stay out of the way.
Rosie glanced at the door but Jamie had walked off with Declan.
Men! Why were they so clueless? It didn’t seem to have occurred to Jamie that Hayley might feel awkward and self-conscious.
“This must be a bit overwhelming for you,” she said. “You’re meeting someone new every few minutes. Exhausting.”
Hayley gave an awkward smile. “I want to do the right thing, but I don’t know what that is. Like now, for instance. Do I stay out of the way, or do I help unload the car? I don’t want to get in the way and I don’t want to be rude. Advice welcome.”
Advice? It was a family Christmas. Her advice would be to enjoy.
But then she put herself in Hayley’s position and imagined spending Christmas with a close-knit family of whom she knew precisely one person.
And that person seemed oblivious to the stress Hayley was feeling.
Why hadn’t Hayley said something to him?
And then she thought of all the things she hadn’t said to Declan. It wasn’t always as easy as it sounded.
“You’re not supposed to be doing anything at all,” she said firmly. “It’s Christmas. Your Christmas. Sure, we all help out, but there is no pressure on anyone. Do what feels right.”
But there was pressure on Hayley, she could see that now.
She didn’t know how she was supposed to behave.
And Jamie had just abandoned her without any thought about how awkward Hayley might find it.
Rosie made a mental note to keep an eye on Hayley, and also to have a few sharp words with her brother.
Maybe she wasn’t finding it easy to talk to Declan, but she was more than able to reprimand her brother. It was what sisters were for.