Chapter 26
ROSIE
The sofa in the cottage hadn’t been quite wide or long enough to accommodate Rosie, so she had slept slightly hunched on her side, her knees poking off the edge and in permanent danger of crashing to the floor.
At first light, she rolled off the sofa, onto the floor and lay there for a moment, thinking about Patrick.
The birds were singing outside and she made another tea in her newly fixed cup and brought it outside and sat on her bench.
It was still barely light, but the garden wasn’t just alive but joyous.
This tiny part of Ireland was heaven on earth.
She made straight for the bench she had sat on yesterday, half-hoping that Patrick would come again.
This morning she was bringing the twins to the sea and then there was the garden picnic after lunch, and this evening was the rehearsal dinner.
The wedding tomorrow and then, by Sunday, they’d all be gone.
If they only had three days to see each other and this was their only chance to meet privately, then of course she was going to sit and wait.
Except, what if he didn’t come? She could almost feel the crushing disappointment at the thought of him not showing up, his jet lag cured, and him sleeping through the dawn. But there was a feeling inside her, one she barely recognised. It was excitement.
Hold on, she counselled herself. Don’t get carried away. What is the point of you sitting on a bench, hoping some man who ended your relationship ten years earlier might deign to spend a few minutes with you? Where is your pride?
But she didn’t care about her pride, not this morning. All she wanted was a chance to talk to Patrick again, however fleeting, however inconsequential.
She waited for a while, sipping her tea, listening to the birds, when she heard the sound of someone coming along the path and then a voice. ‘I’m trying to walk as stealthily as possible so I don’t startle you again.’
It was Patrick. Rosie felt a surge of joy, like a salmon leaping up a waterfall. ‘I’m prepared,’ she said. ‘I mean…’
And there he was, in his full height, lit by the sun behind him. She had to still her beating heart and order herself to calm down.
‘I mean,’ she went on, ‘I’ve got a good grip of my cup. Not that I thought you would come again. I wasn’t expecting you or anything…’
‘You don’t mind if I disturb your tranquillity, then?’ He was smiling down at her.
‘Not at all.’ Had he taken the chance that he would see her again? And then she remembered what room he was in, with the perfect view over this part of the garden. Oh, so this wasn’t an accident. She glowed from the inside.
‘May I?’ He hovered by the end of the bench.
‘Of course. How’s the jet lag?’
He sat down, slightly angled to face her. ‘It’s a killer. How are Isabelle and Killian?’
‘So it was you who tucked them up.’ She looked at him, amazed. ‘Laurence was meant to be bringing them home but he seems to have forced himself on you all. I hope he’s not annoying everyone?’
Patrick hesitated, as though not knowing what to say. ‘The children are lovely.’ He smiled. ‘You’re lucky to have them. Or they’re lucky to have you.’
She nodded. ‘I don’t spend as much time as I would like with them. They’re busy with school, I’m rushing about here. I see them most days, I suppose. But it’s nice to hand them back.’
Patrick looked confused. ‘To Laurence?’
‘I suppose. But mainly Nessa. Is he annoying you all?’
‘He’s definitely the life and soul of the party…’
‘Yeah, I suppose… depends what kind of parties you like. Honestly, I can ask Nessa to tell him to stay away.’
‘Nessa… your sister Nessa?’
Rosie nodded. ‘She’s responsible for Laurence, not me.’
Patrick’s face clicked through a selection of expressions and then suddenly laughed. ‘She’s married to Laurence? Nessa is the twins’ mother?’
‘Yes…’ Rosie began laughing at the incongruity of it all. ‘Wait. You didn’t…? I mean, surely you couldn’t…?’
‘When you said you barely see them, I was horrified.’ He was still smiling.
‘Me and Laurence? Honestly, Patrick. What do you take me for?’ She laughed.
‘I couldn’t work it out!’ He was laughing too.
‘I wouldn’t have put the two of you together at all.
And I know, I don’t know you well enough…
well, not for a long time, but still. You with Laurence?
It didn’t seem right. And then last night, I was walking back to my room and the children were in the lounge… ’
‘Laurence was meant to get them home by 9 p.m.’
‘Well, he was too busy throwing pints down his neck and singing. I was going to find you, but I thought that was interfering and that you’d hate me…’
‘I could never hate you.’
He looked at her. ‘Just a bit?’
‘Okay. Just a bit.’ She smiled at him.
He smiled back at her exactly the way he used to, a mix of devilment, merriment and something else. Pure, driven sexiness. Rosie wished so desperately that everything was different, and there wasn’t this gulf of time and space between them and they’d taken the same path together.
‘I was taking a breather. There are only so many times you can listen to “The Irish Rover”.’
‘I think it might be practically the only song Laurence knows. That and “The Fields of Athenry”. He had to learn it when he was a child and for some reason had been entered into a Féis.’
‘I was once in a Féis. Had to recite a poem. Some Seamus Heaney…’
‘Can’t go wrong with Seamus.’
‘“If we winter this one out, we can summer anywhere”…’ He looked at her. ‘Something like that.’
‘Did you get a medal?’
‘No… I was robbed. I think highly commended or good effort. My days of reciting were short-lived.’ He paused, looking at her for a moment. ‘The wedding is going well, you’ll be glad to know. The barbecue on the beach was a triumph.’ There was that look again.
She laughed again. ‘I have never operated a barbecue before and nor will I attempt to operate one ever again.’
‘The rain was a nice touch. Thanks for laying it on.’
‘There are no lengths to which we will not go.’ She had forgotten how nice it was to make him laugh.
‘And then you being hit by who I thought was your husband and he acted like he didn’t care.’
‘I don’t think he even noticed!’
‘Why did your sister marry him?’
‘My aunt Lucinda set them up. She was friends with his parents and decided that he would be good for Nessa. Which he is, kind of. They have more in common than I would have with him.’
‘Your aunt Lucinda loves meddling, doesn’t she?’
‘I suppose. I take what she says with a pinch of salt. She’s given up on me, though, thankfully. Although I don’t think she ever tried it with me. Nessa was always far more receptive.’
Patrick didn’t say anything.
‘And you? Are you seeing anyone?’ She asked the question so carelessly that you would almost imagine that she didn’t mind what the answer was.
He shrugged. ‘No one serious.’
She wondered if it was true and if he was just saying it to save her feelings.
Perhaps he had fallen in love a hundred times since her.
But there was a look in his eyes, a softness, a directness, that made her feel as though he was telling the truth.
They looked at each other, the silence long enough to hear the sounds of the birds and the bees.
‘Well, I’d better go and have a shower and then prepare for another day of fun.’
They looked at each other for a moment and then Rosie put on her biggest smile. ‘And I’d better get to work.’