3. Rosa
3
ROSA
A week and a half had passed since Rosa had opened the bookshop and she was settling into the new routine of waking early, having breakfast, then heading downstairs to prepare the shop for the day ahead. Vinnie was a star of an employee, and she enjoyed his company and his ideas for displays and ways of increasing footfall.
Today he’d gone to his mum’s for his lunch break, so Rosa was alone in the shop. She was browsing a catalogue from a publisher for upcoming titles when a shadow fell across the floor. Looking up, she saw an elderly man peering through the window, his face pressed close to the glass.
He raised a hand when he spotted her then came inside the shop.
‘Good morning, young lady,’ he said, removing his checked flat cap to reveal a shiny bald head.
‘Good morning!’ Rosa gave her customer a warm smile.
‘I can’t tell you how delighted I am that there is a bookshop in our village at last.’ He folded his cap and tucked it into his blazer pocket. ‘I’ve been wishing for one to open up here for years.’
‘Well, I’m very happy to hear that.’ Rosa came around the counter and held out her hand. ‘I’m Rosa.’
‘Hello Rosa.’ He took her hand between both of his and she noticed how cold his hands were, how weathered by time and life the skin was. ‘It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m Christopher Robin.’
She frowned uncertainly, not sure if he was teasing her.
‘Yes, I know, but it’s the name my parents gave me. It has raised some eyebrows and smiles over the years.’ He gave a small laugh. ‘There was no deliberate link to the famous books, though.’
‘It’s a wonderful name.’
‘Thank you. I must say, this shop is delightful.’ He let go of her hand and looked around. ‘And it smells divine, a bit like a café.’
‘That’s the coffee machine.’ Rosa gestured at the refreshments corner. ‘Would you like a warm drink?’
‘Oh!’ He looked surprised. ‘That would be very kind of you.’
‘Come with me.’ She led the way to the machine and showed him how it worked, then handed him a cup. ‘Have whatever you like. And there are biscuits too.’
Christopher selected a coffee and a packet of shortbread biscuits, then Rosa told him to take a seat and relax for a bit. After feeling how cold his hands were, she wanted him to have the opportunity to warm up a bit.
While Christopher sat down, she returned to the counter and made some notes about books she’d like to order, then she checked the online orders on the computer behind the counter. When she looked over at Christopher, he was just finishing his drink.
‘Would you like another?’ She walked over to him.
‘No, thank you, dear girl. That was perfect.’
‘Were you looking for any books in particular?’ she asked. ‘Or just browsing.’
He stood up and shook his head. ‘I’m actually here to find out if you would be interested in some books I have at home. Not to buy from me.’ He held up a finger. ‘To take off my hands. You see, my wife and I were always avid readers and we have a very well-stocked library at home. However, with her being gone and me getting older by the day, I’m trying to clear out a bit. I can’t take it all with me now, can I?’
‘You lost your wife?’ Rosa asked.
‘Two years ago. Nothing sinister, just old age. I always said to her I wanted to go first, but sadly she denied me that and went before me.’ He held up his cup and the biscuit wrapper. ‘What should I do with these?’
‘There’s a bin and recycling tub in the corner but I can sort them for you.’ Rosa took the recycling from him, then came back to his side. ‘I am so sorry for your loss.’
‘Thank you but it’s to be expected when one reaches their eighties or nineties. My dear Dolly was eighty-nine and I am now ninety-two.’
‘That’s amazing. I hope I look as good as you if I ever get to ninety-two.’
Christopher laughed. ‘I’m sure you will look a million times better should you reach your nineties. It may sound like a great age to be, but I feel like I’m still twenty-one in my heart and mind. Other parts of me creak, groan and ache like I’m an old boat washed up after a storm though. The years fly past and I feel like my life has passed in the blink of an eye.’
A swell of emotion tightened Rosa’s throat, and she coughed as she tried to dispel it.
As if emerging from a trance, Christopher shook his head and then placed a hand on her arm. ‘Excuse me, dear. I don’t mean to drift. I came here to speak to you about some books I have. Do you think you’d be interested?’
‘I have a pre-loved and vintage books section here, so I’d certainly like to take a look if that’s OK?’
‘It is indeed.’ Christopher nodded. ‘When would you like to come and look? I’m pretty flexible these days. My social life is quite limited now.’
‘I could come tomorrow. Would that work for you?’
‘Absolutely.’ He pulled a mobile phone from his pocket and said, ‘Could you put your number in here and I’ll text you? That way you can let me know when’s a good time.’
Rosa did as he asked, then handed the phone back to him. ‘Text me your address, too.’
‘I’m not far away. Just along the road, past the school, then the row of cottages, and my home is the detached house on the left.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I shall see you tomorrow, then.’ He tucked the phone in his trouser pocket, then got his cap out and put it on. ‘And thank you again for the coffee and biscuits.’
‘My pleasure, Christopher. See you soon.’
Rosa opened the door for him, then watched as he ambled away. For a man in his nineties, he was remarkable and so polite. She wondered if he managed all right living alone and if he had any relatives nearby to help him, should he require support. Life could be lonely at any age, especially if you’d lost your partner and had no friends around.
‘I’m back!’ Vinnie sang as he entered the shop carrying a paper bag. ‘Oh, was that Christopher I saw leaving?’
‘It was.’
‘Bless his heart. Hasn’t been the same since he lost his wife.’
‘He seems lovely.’
‘He is.’ Vinnie placed the paper bag on the counter, then removed his jacket. ‘But he keeps to himself. It’s like he’s afraid of being seen as a burden by anyone.’
‘That’s such a shame.’ Rosa wrapped her arms around her waist. ‘He’s invited me to his house tomorrow to see if we want any of his books for the shop.’
‘Get you! He must have taken a shine to you to invite you to the manor house.’
‘Manor house?’ Rosa frowned.
‘That’s what we call it round here. He lives in this big old house that he apparently built years ago. He’s … or he was … a talented carpenter. Such a shame though that they had that beautiful big house and couldn’t have the children they wanted to fill it. I remember hearing my mama talking about it when I was younger. She said the Robins wanted children but couldn’t have any and so they rattled around that house alone. Not that children are essential to happiness, of course, but if people want them, then it’s sad if they can’t have them.’
Rosa nodded. She understood that feeling all too well.
‘From what I’ve heard, and I’m not one to gossip…’ Vinnie put his jacket on the counter next to the bag, then placed his hands on his hips. ‘There’s a niece in Canada who’ll inherit the estate after Christopher passes away.’
‘I wonder if she’ll come here to live.’
‘I doubt it. But she’ll be well off when that house sells for sure.’ Vinnie raised his brows. ‘Hopefully that’s a long way off, as Christopher is the sprightliest ninety-something I’ve ever met. Not that I’ve met many people in their nineties, mind.’
‘It’s a great age.’
‘It is.’ Vinnie reached for the paper bag. ‘Mama sent you some lunch.’
‘Ooh! She didn’t need to do that.’
‘She said you’re too skinny and you need some treats.’
‘I love she thinks I’m skinny, even though she’s mistaken about it.’ Rosa laughed. ‘What did she send me?’
‘Sundried tomato brioche, pecorino cheese, Nocellara olives, and some pistachio cannoli.’
‘Oh wow. She’s so kind.’
Vinnie handed her the bag, then picked up his jacket again. ‘I’ll put this in the staffroom, then make us a coffee and you can tell me what we’re ordering from that catalogue.’
‘Great idea.’
Rosa opened the bag and gazed inside it, her mouth watering at the delicious treats it contained. Small acts of kindness could make such a difference to someone’s day, and she was always grateful for them when they came her way.
* * *
T he next day, Rosa, and Vinnie opened the shop and at ten o’clock, she set off for Christopher’s home in her van. The white van bore the shop’s name on the side, and Rosa felt a swell of pride every time she got behind the wheel. She had built this business alone and there was no one to thank for it but herself. Once upon a time, she’d been told — by a man — she was a dreamer who would never achieve her goals, but now she was living a life that resulted from her dreams and determination.
She drove through the village, past the school and the row of fishing cottages and then along a quiet country lane before pulling up outside the large, detached house that Christopher had told her about. She cut the engine and got out of the van, then walked to the front gate.
Surrounded by hedges, the four-storey grey stone house was double fronted with large bay windows, a wooden front door complete with a lion head brass knocker, and a spacious front garden. Pots lined the path from the gate to the front door, but they were empty or filled with weeds; one was smashed, and brown earth oozed from the hole like dried blood. Mole hills dotted the overgrown lawn, rising like dark acne on the green.
When she got close to the house, she could see that the paint was peeling around the windows and the glass was dirty. Christopher had been smartly dressed yesterday in his pressed trousers, shirt, cardigan and blazer, so she thought he must be a proud man. The state of his front garden suggested that he may be struggling to stay on top of everything, and her heart ached for him. In that moment, she knew she would do what she could to help him — as long as he was happy to have her assistance.
She raised the lion’s head and knocked on the door then waited for Christopher to answer. Barking came from inside and then she heard footsteps and the door swung inwards.
‘Ahhhh … morning, Rosa.’ Christopher smiled at her and a small dog that she recognised as a Jack Russell ran past Christopher’s legs and jumped up at her. ‘Bobby! Get down now.’
Bobby stopped bouncing and ran back inside and Christopher apologised for his exuberance, then said that the dog was happy to have a visitor.
‘He seems lovely,’ Rosa said as Christopher invited her inside.
‘Oh he’s a friendly little chap, but he gets very excited.’ Christopher closed the door and held a hand out. ‘Come through to the kitchen and I’ll make us a drink, then I’ll take you to the library.’
‘Sounds good to me.’
Rosa followed her host through the hallway, past a central staircase and into a large kitchen that wouldn’t have seemed out of place in one of the historical dramas on TV. And while Christopher made tea, she made a fuss of Bobby, who brought her ball after ball, dropping them at her feet as if he was auditioning for a role courtside at Wimbledon.