Chapter Thirty-One
Rosie put the finishing touches to her Easter display as she waited for Wednesday morning’s influx of early shoppers.
As one of the longer serving members of staff, she was trusted to create her own displays provided they were not out of step with the store’s core values and principles.
The table had been draped with a piece of green velvet on which she had arranged a family of yellow Easter chicks in knitted bonnets.
She had also made some miniature trees from sturdy twigs which she had fixed in place, and now she added the finishing touch – her home-made yellow flag bunting.
It was as she went in search of a few pins that she spotted Simon heading in her direction and experienced a twinge of guilt.
Since their lunch a fortnight ago they hadn’t spoken, and that was largely her fault.
Simon was a loyal friend and had been trying to help, even though his opinion of Connor was based on media articles that were often wildly inaccurate and totally unsubstantiated.
She would find a way to get both men together and maybe then Simon might change his mind.
‘So, what do you think?’ asked Rosie after Simon had admired her display. ‘Will it do, do you think? I don’t want Mrs Callow thinking it’s more suited to a primary school art room.’
Simon shook his head vigorously. ‘It’s perfect as it is.’
And that was another of Simon’s good points, Rosie thought. Even though they had disagreed and not parted on their usual friendly terms, he didn’t hold grudges.
‘Simon, I’ve been meaning to get in touch, things have been busy and’—she waved her hands—‘I just don’t know where the time goes these days.’
‘You had your party last weekend, I know. And Jesper and I are still decorating. But I need to talk to you.’
‘I know what you think, Si, and I’m grateful for your concern, truly I am, but you mustn’t worry about me.’
‘So it’s true then?’
Before Rosie could ask what that meant, Mrs Callow approached. ‘Don’t you work upstairs, Simon?’ She stood waiting for Simon to move.
‘Find me at lunchtime. We need to talk,’ he said quickly and quietly.
‘Yes, okay. Go on. Shoo.’ Rosie flapped her hands at him as though she was herding chickens, and then scurried back to her counter.
Having told Simon she didn’t know where the time had gone, it now felt as though all the missing hours had been crammed back into her morning. Between opening time and her lunch break, the time passed unbelievably slowly, and Rosie must have looked at her watch every ten minutes.
On the dot of twelve, she grabbed her bag and raced out, but Simon was ready and waiting for her.
They went to Daisy’s Tea Rooms again as it was close, and ordered a sandwich and cup of tea.
When it came to sandwiches Rosie nearly always chose something ordinary like cheese and pickle, but in view of her culinary experiences over the weekend she decided she needed to expand her repertoire, and plumped for chicken and avocado.
‘So, Mister Mysterious, what’s so urgent?’ she asked, taking a bite of her sandwich. ‘You had me a bit worried this morning.’
Simon looked at her intently. ‘I was worried about you. Going off to America and all that.’
‘Going to America? What are you on about?’ Rosie stared back at him. ‘Where d’you get that idea from?’
‘I thought you might be going with him. I’m glad if you’re not though,’ Simon added hurriedly. ‘It wouldn’t be the same at Pennewicks without you.’
Rosie had a horrible feeling that she was missing something vitally important.
‘Sorry, I don’t understand who or what we’re talking about.’
Simon pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and tapped the screen a few times, then passed it across to Rosie.
She looked at the headline:
Culinary Couple Reconciled for New Series
Underneath was a photo of Bonnie and Connor. She had her arm around his shoulder, and they were both smiling and holding champagne flutes.
As Rosie skimmed the article, she felt her hands trembling. This wasn’t right. This was fake news or whatever they called those made-up stories. Connor wasn’t going back to Bonnie. He wouldn’t suddenly move over to America with someone he didn’t even like. Would he?
‘I don’t understand.’ Her whole body was trembling now.
She handed the phone back to Simon. ‘That’s not right.
He fell out with her. He would have told me if he was going away.
’ Her voice began to break up. A feeling of nausea swirled inside her, and she gripped the table.
It was like someone was playing a horrible practical joke at her expense. ‘They must have got the story wrong.’
‘It’s on lots of media sites,’ said Simon quietly. ‘He’s making a new stateside series of Bonnie Appetito and then there’ll be a promotional tour. One site also mentioned a book deal.’ He looked pained. ‘I’m sorry, Rosie, but I assumed you knew all this. I thought you were going with him.’
She shook her head as tears began to prick at her eyes. Connor wouldn’t hurt her like this. Not after last weekend. Everyone knew stories in the papers got exaggerated sometimes. That photo of the two them together could have been an old picture, couldn’t it?
The sick feeling intensified and she pushed her plate away.
‘I need to talk to him.’ She pressed her hands against her face and took several deep breaths. This was a case of crossed wires, and the sooner she unpicked the problem the better.
‘Yes, you do. But you’re not going on your own, I’m coming with you.’ Simon stood up. ‘I’ll go back and get my car and meet you at the end of Queen Street in about ten minutes, fifteen at the outside.’
‘But what about work? What should I say?’
‘You don’t need to say anything. I’ll tell my manager that you’ve been taken ill, and I’m taking you home. He can pass the message on to Mrs Callow.’
Simon hurried out and Rosie saw him sprint past the window. It felt unreal. It was like one of those horrible dreams that still felt real even after you’d woken up. She’d had lots of those after James died.
Thankfully Simon was on time, and after she got in the car, she gave him the directions to Mickleborough Gardens.
As they got closer, Rosie could feel her insides tightening and her heart rate speeding up.
She asked Simon to drop her off at the entrance of the cul-de-sac and marched up the road to number 15d.
She rang the doorbell and waited. From inside came the sound of familiar footsteps and then the door opened.
‘Rosie! This is a surprise. Look, I wanted to talk to you, because something’s happened and I need to—’
Rosie pushed passed him and ran up the stairs. As she entered the living room, she saw several large cardboard boxes with the name of a removal firm stamped on the side.
She pointed at them. ‘So it’s true then? All that stuff about you going to the States? I thought they must have got it wrong. You would have told me if you were going anywhere.’
‘Oh god, Rosie, I never wanted you to find out like this. They were supposed to hold the story until Friday, but once one publication breaks ranks, the others follow.’ He tried to take her hand but she pulled back.
‘When did you decide all this? Was I just some sort of fun way to pass the time while you were waiting for a better offer to come along? Free sex, no questions asked?’ She was breathing hard now and her voice was getting louder.
‘I thought you detested Bonnie Appleton, but I must say you looked very cosy in that photo.’
‘I’m sorry. This wasn’t how I wanted it to happen. You must know—’
‘I know you took me for a fool. A stupid, ignorant fool who knows nothing about your world and never could do.’ Despite her best efforts, she could feel the tears resurfacing. ‘I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid. I really thought I meant something to you.’
‘You do, Rosie, and I wouldn’t have hurt you for the world—’
‘I’m hurting now!’ she yelled. ‘Because I really thought you cared, but you didn’t even care enough to tell me you’re going away. You chucked me aside like a piece of rubbish!’ She pushed past him and ran down the stairs.
‘Rosie, please wait, I haven’t explained what—’
‘Go away!’
She ran back to the car, tears streaming down her face.
Simon asked no questions, just drove away and took her home.
Time blurred into a miserable lump. Simon made her a cup of tea and tried to persuade her to drink it.
When he insisted she shouldn’t be on her own, she didn’t have the strength to object.
He waited while she threw some things in an overnight case, then after checking Emma was in, he drove Rosie over to Emma’s house and walked her up to the front door.
Rosie threw herself sobbing into Emma’s open arms.
Since James had died, she’d been so lonely, but now she realised she’d been gullible as well, wanting to believe that this man was different and special. She had been taken in by the whole charade and she was now paying the price.