Chapter Thirteen
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
The pungent smell of manure was not to be underestimated. Beth had been breathing through her mouth for the last twenty minutes as she cultivated and fertilised the soil around the rose bushes, but the revolting odour was a force to be reckoned with—she swore she could taste it!
When she finished, she dumped her shovel in the wheelbarrow and backed away, desperate for fresh air. Once she’d gained some distance, she sniffed, but the overpowering stench had taken up residence in her nostrils.
‘Oh my!’
Beth spun around to find Flo standing on the garden path, her hand fluttering to her chest and settling over her heart as she stared at the roses.
‘Beth, they look amazing! Truly, they do.’
‘You think?’
She supposed they did look rather impressive.
The garden beds were now completely free of weeds, and the freshly turned, rich-brown earth made the colours of the four bushes pop.
She’d pruned them a few weeks ago so they wouldn’t look so overgrown and forgotten.
Now, their foliage was thick and voluminous, a bright forest green, and they were covered in roses whose petals were a deep romantic crimson.
Though she had no clue how a plant neglected for years could bloom so majestically with such a small amount of love and attention—especially when that attention came from someone who’d never had a particularly green thumb.
‘No, I don’t think they look amazing, young lady, I know,’ Flo assured her, her tone adamant before turning wistful. ‘I don’t ever remember them looking so striking.’
The words hit Beth like an eighteen-wheeler.
Flo had seen these roses blooming. Before they’d been swallowed by weeds.
Which would have been before Prudence Campbell had passed away—before she’d moved into the aged-care home, even.
And by the sound of it, Flo had seen them bloom multiple times, which meant she’d spent years living across the road from Beth’s aunt.
Why had she never considered that possibility?
That Flo, or others in town, might have known Prudence Campbell?
Just because she lived a lonely existence didn’t mean her aunt had.
And if her aunt still had friends living in Karlup, they might know things about her life, her family.
They might have answers to Beth’s questions.
Like how Prudence Campbell had known about her.
And why Rosie had cut all ties to the Campbells.
As Beth stared at the roses, she considered posing the question to Flo—Did you know Prudence Campbell?—except she was suddenly filled with terror. What if she learned things about her aunt she didn’t like?
In the end, she opted for caution.
‘Did the, uh, former owner spend much time in the garden?’
Flo’s gaze shot to Beth and her eyes widened a fraction, but after a moment, she relaxed and smiled when she answered. ‘She did, actually, and she loved those roses. Grew them from cuttings taken from her own mother’s bushes.’
Stunned, Beth looked back at the roses. If what Flo said was true, then they’d originated in her great-grandmother’s garden.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat.
Hadn’t she always dreamed of having a family heirloom, like orphan Annie?
These plants weren’t quite what she’d expected, but they did connect her to an earlier generation in her family.
They were living, breathing heirlooms, suddenly as precious to Beth as her memories of Rosie.
Clearing her throat, she croaked. ‘Did you know her well, the woman who lived here?’
Flo nodded, her eyes growing misty. ‘I did, and I can tell you, she’d be so pleased that you’ve helped these beauties flourish.’
Enveloped by an overwhelming sense of warmth, Beth felt her aunt’s presence, much as she had the day Vince had shown her through the house.
She couldn’t help it—her eyes welled and her voice wavered as she said, ‘Will you tell me about her?’
Flo came to stand in front of her and clasped Beth’s hands in her own. ‘I’d love nothing more. But I think this conversation calls for a cuppa.’
* * *
An hour later, after heading back to the B&B for a shower, Beth was seated in Flo’s living room with a steaming cup of tea. Flo crossed the room and plucked a framed photo off the shelf, which she handed to Beth before lowering herself into the vacant armchair.
Beth stared down at the image of young Flo laughing with her best friend as they fished, and it suddenly dawned on her why Flo was showing it to her again.
‘Prudence Campbell was your best friend?’ Belatedly, she realised that Flo hadn’t yet mentioned her aunt by name.
Flo nodded. ‘As I mentioned last time, Pru and I were inseparable as youngsters, and nothing much changed once we reached adulthood. I thought it might. She could’ve done anything, gone anywhere, but when the time came for her to make her own way in the world, she bought the house across from mine so we would always be close. ’
Beth looked down at the photo and studied her aunt. Prudence was looking at Flo, not the camera, so it was difficult to see her facial features, but her stance was strong, confident, unassuming.
‘She must have valued your friendship very much.’
Flo got a faraway look in her eye but smiled softly. ‘I like to think so.’
‘What was she like?’ Beth sipped her tea.
Tilting her head, Flo considered her answer carefully. ‘Well, she was someone I always felt safe with. Someone who always knew how to cheer me up when I was feeling down.’
Prudence—Pru—sounded like a wonderful friend, but Beth wanted answers and there was only one way to get them. She had to reveal her own connection to the woman.
Putting her tea cup down on the coffee table, she sat forward in her chair, her pulse pounding in her ears. ‘Flo, I … I have to tell you something. Your friend, Pru … she was …’
Flo waited, her brows raised expectantly.
‘Well, recently I learned that Prudence Campbell was my aunt. My great aunt, actually. I didn’t even know she existed and never got the chance to meet her, but she left me the house, and I was wondering … did she ever talk about me?’
Flo was … smiling?
Confused, Beth asked, ‘Why don’t you seem shocked to hear that information?’
Flo’s smile dimmed. ‘Probably because I’m not, dear.’
‘You knew I was her niece?’
‘I did. And to answer your question, yes, Pru often talked about you over the years.’
‘But why didn’t you say anything? If you knew I was her niece—’ Beth held up the framed photo, ‘—then why didn’t you tell me this was her?’
‘Pru didn’t want me to discuss her with you.’ Flo smiled sadly. ‘Not unless you raised the subject yourself.’
A chill stole over Beth. Why would Pru have made such a request? Perhaps Rosie had had a good reason for cutting Prudence Campbell from their lives.
‘She asked you to lie to me? Why?’
Flo shook her head. ‘No, she didn’t ask me to lie, only to omit details of our connection. For a time. She simply asked me to wait until you were ready.’
Beth considered that for a moment, but nothing made sense. ‘I don’t understand. Ready for what?’
Flo tapped her fingers on the arm of the couch. ‘How do I explain this?’
‘Maybe by telling me the truth,’ Beth snapped.
Flo’s eyes met hers. She looked worried at first, but then she got a steely, determined glint in her eye.
‘Beth, if your parents had chosen differently,’ she explained, ‘if they’d decided to stay instead of moving to the city, you very well could have grown up in this town. Sure, a lot of—’
‘What?’ Beth jumped to her feet.
Flo jolted, her frail hand flapping over her chest in fright, and Beth immediately regretted her outburst.
She pressed her lips together and sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I’m only trying to understand. Are you saying that my parents grew up here, too? In this town?’
‘Please, sit. You’re making me nervous.’
Beth complied, though she was ready to leap out of her skin.
‘Your mother didn’t grow up here, she was only in town for a short time,’ Flo explained, ‘but your father did. He was born and raised in Karlup.’ She paused, then added, ‘As were his parents and Pru, and their parents before them.’
Suddenly dizzy, Beth fell back in her seat and squeezed her eyes shut. Three generations? Her father, her grandparents and her great-grandparents—they’d all been born here. They’d lived and apparently thrived here. Her great-grandmother’s roses now grew in the garden across the street.
But there was something else …
She angled her body towards Flo. ‘Why did Pru want you to wait for me to ask about her, about my family?’
Flo smiled kindly. ‘As I was about to say earlier, if your parents had chosen to raise you here, the decision to stay or leave would’ve been yours in adulthood.
By giving you the house and stipulating that you had to spend time here, Pru believed she was giving you that opportunity—the opportunity you should’ve had all along.
She only wanted you to choose freely, without being influenced by anyone or anything. ’
Seriously? Beth had heard enough. Pru had wanted her to choose freely, yet she’d forced her to choose between the life she’d been living and claiming a life-changing inheritance. How was that giving her any sort of freedom?
This was all too much. She’d started this conversation in the hope of getting answers, but now she had even more questions than before and felt as if her head would explode.
She needed time. Time to process everything she’d just heard. Time to figure out what more she wanted—no, needed to know. Time to come to terms with the fact that Flo had been withholding this information from her, essentially telling her more lies.
Abandoning her barely touched cup of tea, Beth got to her feet again. ‘I’m sorry, Flo. I … I just need to think.’
And she fled, needing to be alone as desperately as she needed air to breathe.
* * *
Sitting in her car outside the B&B, Beth cried, though she barely knew why. There were simply too many reasons to count.