CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I felt so light-hearted the following day, after Zak revealed his exciting book news, that I kept wanting to burst into song. But I did my best to resist the impulse because I didn’t want to inflict damage on Rhona’s ears.
But she caught me breaking into ‘Love is in the Air’ and gave me a funny, weirded-out look. ‘What on earth’s got into you? You never usually sing.’
I laughed. ‘Think yourself lucky.’
‘I do,’ she joked. ‘So come on, is it Zak? Are you two okay now?’
I nodded. ‘Apparently we’ve always been okay. It was my hormones doing the dirty on me. Plus Zak was keeping a secret. A good secret,’ I added, when she looked at me askance.
I told her Rachel was his new literary agent, and how she was backing Zak’s new book to the hilt and had found two potential publishers who were in a bidding war with each other to secure it.
‘Wow. That’s amazing.’
‘I know. Isn’t it? After all my worry, everything’s turned out fine.’
‘All’s well that ends well,’ she murmured. ‘I’m so pleased for you, Ellie.’
I could tell she meant it. But I noticed her wistful smile as she turned away, and my heart went out to her.
There I was, telling her how happy I was with the love of my life.
And all Rhona had were her memories of love.
I felt more determined than ever to try and help her reconnect with the loves that she’d lost...
*****
Late that afternoon, Mac called to say that they’d finished replacing the windows.
I gave a gasp of excitement. ‘Brilliant. I can’t wait to see. Do they... look all right?’ The windows we’d chosen had cost a small fortune and I hoped we hadn’t made a mistake.
‘Yes, they look good,’ Mac said, and I smiled fondly at his no-frills directness. Mac was always honest, sometimes to the point of brusqueness, but that meant I could trust everything he said. He was one of the good guys and I would have no hesitation at all in recommending him to anyone else wanting to have their house renovated.
Later, after Mac and the others had left for the day, Maisie and I drove over to inspect Bogg House’s new look, and even Maisie was excited to see the transformation.
We went inside and walked around, looking at the work that had been done since the last time I was there, then we went upstairs and I showed her the colourful artwork covering the walls in what had once been Rhona’s nursery.
Maisie’s eyes were wide with amazement. ‘You would never let me paint on my bedroom walls like this.’
I chuckled. ‘Darned right I wouldn’t.’
‘But why not, Mum?’ She traced part of the painting with her finger: a cute bee with a rosy-cheeked smile and pink stripy wings. ‘It would look so nice.’
‘Well, we’ll see.’ I smiled, not wanting to stifle any creative potential in her, although I dreaded to think what her bedroom would end up looking like if I gave her free rein with paints and brushes!
‘I like the baby bricks,’ she said.
‘Baby bricks?’ I looked down and she was pointing underneath the windowsill. I’d been looking at the bigger picture – the trees and the gently sloping hills and the blue sky dotted with birds. I hadn’t noticed the cheery-looking teddy bear that had been painted to look as if it was sitting on the floor under the window – along with a puppet on strings and a jumble of baby bricks, each with a different letter of the alphabet.
Maisie pointed at the bricks. ‘They’re like the ones I used to have.’
‘They are. And your teddy bear looks a bit like that one.’
‘I’m too old for a teddy bear, Mum,’ she said sternly. ‘I only keep Edward on my bed because I don’t want to put him in a cupboard where he won’t be able to see anything.’
I nodded solemnly. ‘Of course.’
Maisie ran off to examine the bedroom she was claiming for hers, while I stood in the middle of the room, pivoting slowly round, drinking in the images painted by the young Rhona. I was trying to imagine what she was feeling when she worked on these walls. Excitement and nerves, maybe, at the idea of giving birth for the first time. But also sadness because she’d cut Joel out of her life and he wasn’t there to share her joy over the forthcoming birth.
Finally, I slid down the wall and sat on the floor, and stared at the images Rhona had painted, one by one. I suppose I was hoping for some kind of a clue that might point me in the right direction...
‘What are you doing, Mum?’ Maisie burst back in.
‘Oh, just being silly, thinking I can solve a mystery.’ I smiled and held out my hand, and she helped to pull me up.
‘What’s the mystery? Is it ghosts? Old houses like this sometimes have hundreds of ghosts.’
‘Do they?’ I grinned. ‘Well, as long as they wipe their feet when they come in, I guess they’re welcome to stay.’
As Maisie hooted with laughter at the idea of ghosts using a doormat, we went downstairs and back out to the car.
As I drove us home, something was niggling at me but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I was racking my brains so hard, I almost drove right past the village green and Maisie had to squeak that I needed to indicate.
I was sure it was to do with Rhona’s beautiful murals, but for the life of me, I couldn’t think what it was...
*****
That night, I dreamed that I was back at Bogg House.
I was alone in the room with the murals, lying on the floor, when a bird flew out of the trees and began flapping gently around the room.
I sat up in awe as the scenes around me came to life. I was sitting on a grassy slope, hearing the birds chirping around me and feeling the warmth of the sun as I tilted my face up to the brilliant blue sky overhead. A breeze was rustling in the trees and the scents of nature filled the air.
After a while, I heard a faint buzzing sound and realised that a bee had settled on my hand. Gently, I tried to wave it away but the buzzing grew more intense, disrupting the calm I’d been feeling. It was growing angrier now, flying around my head and buzzing so loudly in my ears that I had to get up and run from my grassy perch.
I woke up then, still flapping my arms about trying to escape the bee.
Laughing at such a weird dream, I plumped my pillows and lay back against them, thinking about the strange imagery. Had Rhona been thinking of the miracle of nature – the miracle of a new life growing in her belly – when she’d painted these scenes that had come to life so vividly in my dream?
The bee, though? It had buzzed around my head so annoyingly, shattering the bliss I’d been feeling. A bee with a smiley face and pink wings – just like the bees in Rhona’s paintings.
Suddenly, something slotted into place in my head.
I sat up straight, my heart drumming fast. That bee was familiar. Smiley face and pink wings.
I was sure I’d seen it somewhere before...