Chapter 13
Rose woke up the next morning feeling apprehensive. Isla’s excitement about her little cousins coming to stay was infectious, but the dynamic of the house was going to change and Rose wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
She and Alastair had undoubtedly become closer and she loved spending time with him and Isla. With other people around, would she be relegated and end up feeling more like an employee? Which was fair enough, that’s what she was and this was a family gathering, but she’d be sad about it nonetheless.
Rose showered and dressed and decided to head downstairs for breakfast. Isla’s bedroom door was still closed; she was probably making the most of being able to lie in. Alastair’s was open though.
“Good morning!” said Mrs Reed cheerfully when Rose entered the kitchen.
“You’re in a very happy mood,” Rose said.
“I love to have a busy house full of people to feed,” admitted Mrs Reed. “And it’s wonderful to have lots of children around at Christmas.”
She passed Rose a full bowl of steaming porridge. “You’d better keep your energy up ― you’ve got a full day ahead of you!”
“Yes, I have.” Rose laughed. “It should be fun. Do you need a hand with everything?”
“Oh, bless you, dear. I think everything’s organised. There’ll be chicken casserole for dinner, which I’ll get going in the slow cooker in a bit . . . The rooms are all prepared. The boys will be in a room next to their parents, and Aunt Helena will be down the corridor from them . . .”
“You call her Aunt Helena too?”
“Oh yes, I suppose I do.” Mrs Reed chuckled. “What time are you picking her up from the train station?”
“Not until three and everyone else is due at five,” Rose said. “I’ve got plenty to do for Saturday night’s dinner before then, though. The marquee people will be coming to set up in a bit.”
“That sounds like it’s going to be wonderful. Right, I must pop out to get some fresh flowers for the bedrooms. I’ll see you later.”
Mrs Reed left and Rose sipped her coffee and ate her porridge, enjoying the quiet of the morning. The back door opened and Alastair came in. It had been raining and he looked soaked, but very handsome even in a heavy raincoat.
“Hello,” he said. “I had to rescue a couple of goats. I had a call they were stuck.”
“Lovely day for it,” replied Rose, making him smile. “Are they okay?”
“They’re fine,” he reassured. “Just going to hop in the shower to warm up.” He walked past Rose and her nostrils filled with his smell mixed with fresh Scottish air. Rose had to stop herself from letting out a little groan. What was going on with her?
“I’ve got to head into the office, but I’ll be back before you’re home with Aunt Helena.”
“Great, see you later then,” Rose managed to say.
“Oh, and Rose?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t let Aunt Helena bully you. She’s got a strong personality.”
“I’ll do my best,” said Rose with a gulp.
* * *
Isla asked if she could come with Rose to pick her great-aunt up from the station. Rose was grateful, even more so after Alastair’s words that morning. She’d been concerned about how she was going to make polite conversation for the entire journey home with this woman she’d never met before ― but who was now sounding just a little bit terrifying.
Soon they were driving along the country roads with Isla’s music keeping them entertained.
“There she is!” cried Isla as they pulled into the Calton Road pick-up point. She pointed towards a tall woman with long silver hair who was wrapped in what looked like a vintage fur coat. The woman stood next to a much smaller young man in the railway company’s uniform, and accompanied by a trolley full of luggage including four large, blank canvases.
“Why does everyone in your family have to be so tall?” muttered Rose.
“Only compared to you,” Isla replied, giggling.
Rose pulled over close to Aunt Helena and she and Isla got out of the car to help her with her bags.
Isla was immediately enveloped in a hug by her great-aunt. “My, aren’t you beautiful?” Aunt Helena declared. “Are you sure you won’t let me paint you?”
“No, Aunt Helena,” Isla giggled. “Maybe next time.”
Aunt Helena kept an arm around her great-niece but turned her attention to Rose.
“You must be Rose.” She looked Rose up and down. “Please call me Aunt Helena, everyone else does.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“I’m sure my favourite nephew has been spreading terrible rumours about me,” she said with a smile. “Don’t believe a word he says.”
Rose laughed. “Thank you for warning me.”
“This very helpful young man has been assisting me with my luggage,” Aunt Helena explained. “If you could just pop the boot open, I’m sure he’ll be quite happy to put my bits in there, being especially careful of my art supplies of course.”
Rose did her best to hide her smile at the look on the man’s face as, under Aunt Helena’s close scrutiny, he did as instructed.
“Thank you so much, dear,” Aunt Helena said, slipping a ten pound note into his hand which seemed to cheer him up. “You get back into the station now. I’m sure they’re missing you.”
The young man gave a good-natured grin as he departed. “Will do. Enjoy your trip.”
“Would you like to sit in the front, Aunt Helena?” asked Isla politely.
“I shall be quite comfortable in the back, thank you.” She opened the car door and elegantly climbed in.
Rose and Isla also got in the car and Rose turned the key in the ignition. Isla’s music also came back on.
“What on earth is that racket?” Aunt Helena snapped.
Isla rolled her eyes good-naturedly at Rose as she changed the music to Classic FM. “Sorry, Aunt Helena. I forgot you don’t like any music from after the 1800s.”
“Cheeky,” warned Aunt Helena from the back seat, but she was smiling.
* * *
Aunt Helena and Isla talked about Isla’s school for most of the drive back to the house. Aunt Helena did little to hide her disdain for the National Curriculum’s art provisions. “I’m hoping you’ll come to paint with me at some point over the holiday,” Aunt Helena said. “We can try to wipe out some of the dreadful habits you’ve no doubt picked up since the summer.”
“I’m sort of more into maths now,” Isla said. “I think I want to be an engineer.”
“Artistic skills are of great use to an engineer,” huffed Aunt Helena. “And there’s absolutely no need for you to choose between mathematics and art at this stage.”
“Yes, Aunt Helena.”
“So you’ll do some painting with me?”
“Of course. You know I love painting with you. Also, Rose can draw really well,” Isla said.
“Yes, Alastair mentioned you were an artist,” Aunt Helena said to Rose. “Pencil sketching, I believe . . .”
“Oh, not really,” said Rose quickly. “I mean, I used to . . . but not very much anymore . . .”
“I would love to discuss your drawing with you at some point,” Aunt Helena declared, making Rose’s heart sink.
* * *
The basic structure of the marquee was up and the workers had left for the day when they arrived back at the house. Isla and Rose carried Aunt Helena’s things up to her room for her, while Aunt Helena had a cup of tea with Mrs Reed. They were an unlikely pair but they seemed very pleased to see one another.
Rose hadn’t been into the bedroom Aunt Helena was going to be staying in before.
“This is lovely,” she said, as they entered, laden with Aunt Helena’s belongings. Huge windows bathed the room in fading afternoon light. The walls were painted an off-white, not at all in keeping with the rest of the house’s decor, and there were wooden shutters at the windows as opposed to the thick damask curtains found in most of the other rooms. It made the space seem more modern somehow, almost giving it a Mediterranean feel if you ignored the view outside the window.
“It’s the room with the best light in the house, apparently,” Isla explained. “Aunt Helena claimed it as her own long before I was born. She grew up here and my bedroom used to be hers.”
“Did she also decorate it like this?”
“She instructed that it should be decorated like this,” Isla clarified. “It gets changed every few years depending on what she’s working on at the time. It’s been like this for a while now but before this, it was Moroccan themed.”
“Moroccan? In the middle of the Scottish countryside?”
“I know.” Isla giggled. “But she said Morocco was where her muse was calling her to, so if we wanted her to come and stay she needed it to feel as much like Morocco as possible. She always spends the summer here and she sent Dad an email with Pinterest boards he needed to consult to get it just right before she arrived. He had to put extra heaters in here as well to get it as hot as she wanted. In July.”
“That is brilliant,” declared Rose.
“Yes, Aunt Helena is awesome,” Isla said. “If a tiny bit scary sometimes.”
“I trust you two were talking about me,” said Aunt Helena, appearing in the doorway and making them both jump. She didn’t wait for either of them to reply before she said, “I’m going to have a rest before the hordes arrive.” Rose and Isla took that as a hint for them to promptly leave.