Chapter Twenty-Two
It was nearing the end of February, and the days were starting to get longer again.
When she wasn’t working in Pennewicks, Rosie was working at her sewing machine or, if the weather was good enough, in her garden.
The snowdrops and narcissi she had planted in the autumn were already flowering, and the rest of the bulbs were also throwing up green shoots.
It was immensely satisfying to see swathes of yellow and white in the garden instead of weed-green.
Rosie sometimes popped over after work, although she often spent a significant proportion of the time talking to Connor.
He had finally nagged her into contacting the mum from Sophia’s school and as of three days ago, Rosie now had a commission to make a dress similar to Sophia’s.
Today she had brought along her sketches to show Connor.
It was a mark of how comfortable Rosie felt in Connor’s flat that she was reclining on the sofa resting her feet on his lap as he looked over her ideas.
‘What do you think? I don’t have enough unicorn material, but I’ve found a lovely raspberry pink satin with a black cat pattern on it which has received the seal of approval.’
‘You’re really talented, you know.’ Connor tapped the paper. ‘This is what you should be doing, not standing behind a counter selling leopard-print scarves to tourists.’
‘Hey, that’s a coincidence because that’s exactly what I did sell yesterday.’
‘I know, I was there.’
Rosie was touched that Connor had been to visit the store, although she wished he had come to say hello. ‘Where were the thronging crowds then? I didn’t see any paparazzi lurking behind the swimwear section.’
‘Believe it or not, I am officially a has-been. There are no photographers following me around.’
‘That’s a shame. I could have had my picture taken with you.’ Rosie laughed.
‘So you’re not worried about that sort of thing? I thought you hated all that attention.’
‘Maybe I’ve changed.’
‘Well, in that case, I’ve got something to show you.’ Connor removed her feet and walked over to a pile of papers on the small table in the corner. He handed her a white square envelope.
Inside was a glossy heavyweight card with an abstract art picture on the front. Rosie gave it a cursory glance before reading the inside.
‘You’ve been invited to Henrietta Malbury’s thirtieth birthday party on the fifteenth of March. You see, your friends haven’t deserted you after all.’ She looked back up at him. ‘How do know this Henrietta?’
‘She was one of Bonnie’s crowd. Her father has some pile in Gloucestershire – that’s where the party is being held. To be honest, I’m surprised I got invited as I wouldn’t say I knew her all that well, but who cares, a party is a party.’
Connor took back the envelope and studied it again. ‘RSVP to George; I think that’s her fiancé.’ He tossed the envelope back on the table. ‘No idea how he got hold of my address though.’
‘So are you going? Or have you sold off all your best clothes?’ Rosie grinned.
Despite his initial reticence, after a bit of persuasion from Rosie and with IT assistance from Patrick, Connor had become an enthusiastic eBay seller.
He traded as CF1406 and although he wouldn’t admit it, Rosie knew he enjoyed the thrill of watching bids increase on popular items. She also knew he had sold quite a few leather jackets and designer shirts, but even she had been surprised at how much money he’d made from his new venture in just a few weeks.
‘Well, that all depends,’ Connor replied cautiously.
‘On what? Your clothes situation?’
‘No, on you. It says Connor and guest, so I wondered if you wanted to be my plus one.’
Rosie hesitated. This was exactly the sort of opportunity that didn’t come along every day of the week, but she’d been out with Connor before, and it hadn’t ended well.
‘So, can I check what my role is?’
Connor’s brow wrinkled. ‘Your role?’
‘I assume this is another of your social media promotions, isn’t it? DeLaneys revisited? I just want to know what being assistant to the social media star involves, so I don’t end up disappointed like last time.’
Connor knelt in front of her, took her hand and brought it to his lips. ‘You are not my assistant and I will be proud to go to this party with you.’ He kissed her fingertips playfully.
His tongue caressing her palm was doing funny tingly things to her insides, and she squirmed. ‘Obviously I’d be more flattered if I thought you had a vast number of people to choose from but yes, I’d love to go. I’ve never been to a posh party before.’
Before she could ask any more questions, Connor pulled her towards him and pressed his lips to hers, sending little sparks of happiness skittering through her. ‘You will enjoy it. There will be champagne,’ he said in between kisses, ‘and top-class food—’
‘No microwave meals then?’
‘Naughty Florence. And you will look fabulous.’ He circled her waist with his arms, pulling her closer. ‘And I will introduce you to everyone I know.’
Rosie slid her hands around his broad shoulders. ‘But will Bonnie be there?’
‘Who cares? She’s not going to cause any trouble.’
Rosie smiled. This time it would be different. She was going as Connor’s girlfriend and she trusted him. This time, when Simon looked at Connor’s social media pages, he would see her, and not a gaggle of silly girls, and he would realise how wrong he had been.