Chapter 48 #2
“As I said, it is very discreet.” His tone stiffened and I got the feeling my window for questions was closing fast. Which only meant one thing—I was getting close to something he wanted to keep hidden.
“But, how do you get members if you can’t even Google the club?”
“Because no one who wants to be a member needs Google in order to know what a Never Tell party is. Besides, you can’t become a member by filling out a form online. You have to be recommended by someone who’s already a member.” His words stunned me. He hadn’t been kidding, it really was discreet.
“Does he run it well? Your friend?”
“He wouldn’t still be running it if he didn’t. Whatever he’s doing, he’s doing it right.”
“So, you?—”
“Lola, I answered your question,” he snapped and I shrank back in my seat. I guess the Never Tell Club was more of a sore point than I’d thought. “Never Tell still runs, parties are still thrown, but I don’t attend and you will never be going to any of them so it’s not of any concern to you.”
He pulled into the car park, choosing a fairly secluded spot where I would be unlikely to be seen getting out of his car. He switched the engine off and turned to me.
“Any more questions?” There was an edge in his voice that dared me to ask another, but a softness in his eyes that told me he wouldn’t kill me if I did. I leaned over the gear shift and put my mouth close to his.
“Just one,” I whispered. “What’s a Never Tell party without the Tell?”
“What indeed,” he whispered back, then his mouth met mine and I didn’t give a damn about the Never Tell Club any more.
Alfie eventually let me go with the promise that I would see him tonight. In truth, I would have preferred to spend time with my sister and nephew. Since Alfie had come into my life I barely saw them any more but I didn’t want to start another argument so I let it be.
I opened the door to the bunker and found Mark at his desk, his gaze focused on a set of designs in front of him.
“Morning.” A few months ago I would have considered Mark a good friend, or at the very least a good colleague, but he had been so peculiar with me recently that instead of breezing in and asking him about his weekend, I found myself hovering with nervous energy.
He looked up at me, taking in the t-shirt I wore that obviously belonged to a man.
I was starting to regret turning down Alfie’s offer of more appropriate clothing.
“Good morning, Lola. How was your weekend?” His voice was cold.
“Fine, thanks.” His beady eyes that I’d once thought of as kind landed on my bare thighs, then drifted up to my chest, then finally my face.
The judgement was clear on his face and part of me wanted to tell him to screw himself but another part of me, the part that still wanted his approval, felt embarrassed.
“Do you plan on sitting down and getting some work done or would you rather stand in the doorway all day?”
His rudeness stunned me and for a moment I just stood there.
“Mark…” I wanted to talk to him, to find out what his problem was, but at the last moment I thought better of it. Was it really worth having it out with him if I was leaving in two weeks?
“Lola?”
“Nothing. I need to have a word with Rosie about something, I’ll be back in a while.”
“Fine. I need you to review the order for the Shrike project when you’re done.
It’s a nature reserve project for the council.
I would have included you in the planning but you’ve been distracted recently.
” His gaze dropped to Alfie’s shirt again.
Mark was purposely trying to upset me, but why?
Instead of pushing it further like I wanted to, I gave him a tight smile and got out of there.
I found Rosie knee deep in thyme, bent over a raised bed. Daisy was lounging in the dappled shade of a nearby plum tree. Rosie burst into a smile when she saw me.
“Morning Sunshine! Pass me that trowel will you?” She waved in the general direction of a few scattered tools.
She looked her usual, wonderfully chaotic self, her hair pushed off her face and tied with a strip of paisley fabric.
She had a shawl wrapped around her generous frame and it was pinned in place with a green-eyed owl pin.
Floral wellington boots adorned her feet.
She was a woman completely at home in her environment, satisfied and content. I hated what I was about to do.
“Rosie, have you got a moment?” I asked as I passed her the blue-handled trowel.
She reached for it over her shoulder, her concentration firmly on the task at hand.
Like me, Rosie detested wearing gardening gloves unless she absolutely had to and as a result her bare hands were covered in earth all the way up her forearms.
“Of course, dear. Help me will you?”
“Rosie, it’s kind of important,” I said, but I should have known better than to try to get her full attention when she was elbow deep in soil.
“Talk away, dear.” She waved a hand at me.
“It’s a professional matter.”
“I’m listening. Make a start on that grid, darling.” Beside Rosie’s thyme patch was a bare patch of soil, marked out specifically for sage. The sage sat by the bed just waiting to be plunged into the rich soil. I got to work, my hands sinking into the motions I’d learnt at my mum’s and gran’s side.
I was just gathering the nerve to break the news to her when she spoke.
“So, how is your plan for the Harrington garden coming along?” My thoughts had become so consumed with all things Alfie over the last few days that I’d completely forgotten about it.
I needed to get a grip on that. If I wasn’t careful, Alfie would erase all of my own thoughts until there was nothing left but his name imprinted on my brain.
“It’s going okay. I’m just a little stuck on planting.
” It was true. I had drawn up a good layout but that wasn’t enough.
In order to design well I needed to put my true feeling into the garden and that was the part that was flummoxing me.
I didn’t know what I wanted to express or how to express it.
“Well, I have faith in you, sweetheart.”
“Thank you.” I took a deep breath. “So, there’s, well, there’s something I need to tell you and I…well, I don’t really know how to say it?—”
“You’re leaving us.”
My head snapped up. How had she known?
“It’s alright, dear. I’m very sorry to hear it, of course, but I can’t say I’m entirely surprised. So, where are you going?” She hadn’t looked at me yet but I could hear the sadness in her voice. My stomach sank. This felt awful. Even Daisy looked upset.
“Well, a couple of opportunities have come up. I haven’t decided which way I’m going to go yet but either way it means moving away.” We worked the soil in unison and I was grateful for the distraction. I think I might have burst into tears if I’d had to look at her.
“I understand. You’re an ambitious young woman and you need something bigger to sink your teeth into.
I had hoped that Mark would…well, never mind that now.
I had wondered if your leaving might have something to do with Mr Tell?
Oh, sweetheart, don't look so surprised! He picks you up most afternoons and drops you off most mornings. I’m not a complete fool, you know! He is very handsome.” She nudged me.
“Yes, he is.” A nd he knows it too.
“So, does he? Have something to do with you leaving?”
How was I supposed to answer this? “He’s one of my roads.” I hoped she wouldn’t push for more information. Luckily, unlike Alfie, Rosie understood boundaries. I’d forgotten what it was like to be around people that allowed you to keep your thoughts to yourself.
“I see.” She put down her trowel and slid her earth-covered hand into mine. “Well, wherever you’re going to, you just make sure you’re happy.”
“I’m going to do my best,” I told her, trying my hardest not to cry. She cupped my cheek, a gesture that went beyond the friendly but professional relationship we had always shared. Her warm brown eyes poured into mine and I saw for the first time the depth of care she held there.
“You look so much like your mum, did you know that? Not the hair of course, but you have her eyes and your features are so similar.” My heart constricted as it always did at the mention of my mum.
It had been over a decade since she passed and I could still remember people telling me back then that one day it would get easier but it hadn’t really.
I’d just gotten better at functioning without her.
“I’ve seen a few pictures of her when she was my age.
We look a little similar. I remember you went to school together.
” It was easy to forget that Rosie had known my mum quite well.
I had a dim memory of Rosie being at her funeral and my gran being angry that she’d worn bright colours instead of the perfunctory black, but I hadn’t minded. Mum would have liked it.
“Yes. I was a few years above her but I knew of her. She was hard to miss. She was such a sweet person, so pretty and gentle. I would see her from time to time around town, always with you in tow. She always seemed so happy and she was completely in love with you from the day you were born.” She gave me a small smile and I tried to return it even though it was becoming difficult to breathe.
Part of me wanted to yell at her to shut up and to stop making me hurt.
Another part of me wanted to wrench those memories out of her head and keep them for myself.
That part of me was angry that her grown-up memories were better formed than my child-like ones.
It felt unfair, as if she’d stolen them from me.
Another part of me just wanted to sit here for the rest of my life and listen to her talk about my mum.
“I worried for you when she passed and worried about you even more after your grandmother…well...But then you came here looking for a job and I just knew this would be the right place for you. I watched you for a while and saw the way you handled the plants with the same care and love that she did.” She took my hands in hers, looking down at them as if they weren’t my hands any more but my mum’s and her eyes began to brim with tears.
“Oh ignore me!” She released me and dabbed at her eyes with her shawl. “I’m being a very silly woman. I just think your mum would have been proud of you. You’re such a strong, smart young woman. I’m proud of you too, dear.” Before I could burst into tears she wrapped her arms around me.
Rosie’s hugs had always been painful for me.
Her flyaway fabrics and earth-covered hands were so like my mum’s.
I wanted to tell her about Alfie, about our fight and how scared I’d been when I’d found him scalding himself in the shower.
I wanted to tell her about my acceptance to college because she would be so excited.
Then she drew away and it was my employer’s face looking back at me, not my mum’s.
So, I kept it all inside and pasted a smile on my face, as if I hadn’t just severed my ties to a place of comfort and safety, as if I was absolutely, completely fine, and not scared at all.