Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Rosie’s phone screen was covered in red blobs, as if it had suffered an outbreak of acne.
Ashley had delivered the backpack first thing this morning, along with breakfast. He’d been amazed to find her already up, hobbling about the room.
Her ankle was still sore, but she was able to put her weight on it for a second or two.
He shooed her back into bed for breakfast, and after tucking in to another full English, during which time her phone charged up, she began to read through her messages.
Amara, asking her to call ‘re Guy’s proposition’; a similar one from her agent re ‘the Madison Tyler autobiography’; lots of likes for the photo of the Xanadu she’d forgotten she posted on Saturday night, several notifications that she’d been tagged by @madisontylerofficial …
and Reuben’s voice message, still unopened.
Without thinking too hard about it, she played the message, putting it on speaker, which somehow felt less intimate.
Rosie – hi, it’s me … [quite a long pause] Hey, I’m sorry.
Can we talk? I just … I kind of lost it – overreacted, I guess.
I’d honestly had it up to here with your book, just …
you know – over it. You’re a pretty good writer, Rosie.
You’ll write another book. Someone will publish it.
Can we put it all behind us and move on?
I rang your office and they said you’re away.
Let me know when you’re back, and I’ll come over so we can talk.
[another pause] I miss you. Anyway … call me, yeah? Bye.
Rosie was astonished at how unmoved she was by his voice. And at how many fucks she didn’t give about his thoughts on her writing future. Or how little she cared if he missed her.
Another message; a text from Ashley. I’ve booked you in for a massage, 10am if that suits?
By nine, she’d managed to shower, wash her hair, dress, and deal with her work emails. She was sitting in the window, beginning to type up notes about the wonderful experience of a wellness weekend at Grasmere Heights, when there was a knock on the door. ‘It’s Ashley.’
She limped over, reminding herself to ask him for more painkillers, and opened the door to find not only Ashley, but also Dale, holding a pair of crutches.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ said Ashley, scuttling away.
What the hell?
Rosie watched him leave, then looked at Dale.
‘On loan from the docs,’ he said. ‘Ashley insisted I should deliver them myself.’
Rosie couldn’t bring herself to tell him to go away, given yesterday’s heartbreaking revelation. Instead she opened the door wider and said, ‘I have tea and coffee making facilities, if you’d like a cup?’
He stood on the threshold looking awkward.
Unusual; very un-Dale.
‘Yes, a brew would be nice.’
‘Can I have those?’ she said, nodding at the crutches.
He passed them over, and she slid her arms through the rings, then moved across the room to the kettle.
‘I’ll do that,’ said Dale, following her in. ‘You sit down.’
She lowered herself into a chair and rested her bandaged foot on the bed, watching him. He was looking lush, in jeans and a pale blue shirt. When the cups of tea were ready, he passed one over and remained standing. ‘Rosie …’
She frowned. ‘Haven’t we already had this conversation? But yes, a car trip around the lakes would be nice.’
He looked her in the eye. ‘I had a chat with Ant last night.’
Her heart skipped a beat. ‘Oh?’
He smiled. ‘You get that he’s totally the nicest person on the planet? But also quite boring, especially when be bangs on about safety. And he’s not nearly as good-looking as me. Obviously.’
‘I’m sorry?’ Rosie shook her head a little. ‘What?’
‘And for some reason, he seems to think he needs my okay …’
Rosie’s heart soared. If she hadn’t been crippled, she’d have jumped up and done a dance.
‘Also, I wanted to tell you …’ He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. ‘Um … me and Madison–’
‘It’s okay, I’ve spoken to her about it,’ she said, feeling herself blush.
‘Not proud,’ he said. ‘To be honest, I was kind of … ambushed?’
‘I get what you’re saying,’ Rosie said, barely suppressing a laugh. ‘But it was still horrible of you to blank her like that at dinner.’
‘Yeah, I should apologise for that.’
‘You should.’
It was time they stopped beating around the bush. Rosie took a sip of her tea and said, ‘Dale … I think I’m falling for your friend.’
His smile was happy-sad. He sat down on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees, staring ahead. ‘Someone else special said that to me, a long, long time ago.’
Rosie nodded, and swallowed, tears pricking her eyes. ‘Gemma. Ashley told me. I’m so sorry, Dale.’
His face creased with emotion, and he shut his eyes for a moment. Rosie reached out and put a hand over his.
He took a shaky breath in. ‘I miss her like fuck, Rosie. Me and Ant both do. It’s been a tough couple of years, but it’s probably time to think about moving on, for both of us.
I need to stop making up for my loss by shagging every girl with a pulse, and Ant needs to stop making up for his by shagging absolutely no one at all. ’
Rosie smiled. ‘I see.’
He sat up straight, his hands on his thighs, and gave her a long look. ‘You’ve known each other – what – two days? The pair of you are chalk and bloody cheese – chatty city girl, mountain man who hardly says a fuckin’ word. Should be a solid non-starter, but somehow …’
‘What has he said to you about me?’ Her heart was in her mouth.
‘Only that he can’t work out why he can’t stop thinking about you. Believe me, for Ant, we’re talking a breakthrough.’
Rosie’s gaze moved out of the window to the fells.
City girl, mountain man. Opposite ends of the country. Maybe it didn’t matter. She had a book to write, she could work remotely. And the Lakes, as she had discovered, were heavenly, if a little unpredictable, weatherwise.
Dale’s phone beeped, and he pulled it out of his jeans pocket. ‘Ashley says I need to take you down for your massage.’
Rosie pulled a face. ‘Don’t really want a massage. I want to go thank Ant for rescuing me.’
‘Rosie – in the few months since Ashley landed here from god knows where, I have learned it’s best to do as he says.’ He stood up. ‘Let’s go.’
Rosie answered ‘yes’ to all the questions about spending long periods at a desk, suffering from stress, and being tense, then closed her eyes and let the masseuse get to work on knots and tension points and aches Rosie hadn’t even been aware were there.
The massage was followed by a facial that buffed the glow Dale’s words had ignited, but when Ashley told her what was next, Rosie insisted sand bath healing wasn’t for her.
Ashley tutted. ‘Your readers will be intrigued. And you should be open to new things.’
‘I have too many open places things might end up in,’ said Rosie, wrinkling her nose. Plus, I have other plans.
As she left the spa, clanking along on her crutches, revitalised and brimming with anticipation, she replayed Dale’s words in her head: … he can’t stop thinking about you.
‘These came for you earlier, along with your backpack,’ said Ashley, producing a bunch of red roses from behind the reception desk. ‘If I had a rose for every time I thought of you, I could walk through my garden forever,’ he said, waving a hand about poetically.
‘Oh, isn’t that lovely! Wordsworth?’
‘Tennyson.’
There was a get well card, which she opened with her heart in her mouth, before frowning in confusion at the messy scribbles inside. Peering closer, she read the crossed-out words:
Hope the ankle’s on the mend! Ant x
And then in different handwriting. Pathetic, try harder – Dale
And then: Hope the ankle’s feeling much better and I can visit you later? Ant xx
And then: Rosie – please put this poor idiot out of his misery. Dale xx
She passed it to Ashley, a huge smile on her face. ‘I’m wondering if I can make it to Hill and Dale on my crutches.’
Ashley read the card, and his smile mirrored hers. ‘I took a big risk, leaving that lad alone with you in your room this morning, but I had a feeling it’d do the trick.’
‘Trick?’
‘Wait …’ he said, and typed something into his phone.
Rosie buried her nose in the roses, breathing in their beautiful scent, thinking she would press every single one and keep them for ever.
Ashley received a reply to whatever he’d sent, raised his eyes to the ceiling and threw up his hands. ‘Never was my job this hard! Idiot Ant’s gone fishing!’
‘Your job?’ said Rosie, her heart sinking at this news.
Ashley checked himself. ‘Living in a small village, you become far too invested in the lives of the folk you get to know. Those boys have rescued a few of our guests.’
‘I see,’ said Rosie.
‘Wait …’ It seemed another text had arrived. Ashley smiled. ‘Go get your coat on – Dale’s driving you over to Coniston.’
The weather was like yesterday morning’s – brilliant sunshine in a clear blue sky. So of course, Rosie didn’t trust it. In her backpack was the waterproof poncho.
Dale arrived in a green car with Hill and Dale on the side, and a line drawing of a steep, craggy mountain and a valley. They drove to Coniston Water via the ‘scenic route’, along narrow lanes, past beautiful fells, woodlands, pretty farmhouses.
‘Who’s looking after the shop?’ asked Rosie.
‘Sadie; she’s part-time,’ said Dale.
‘What’s her surname? Field? River? Um …’
‘More,’ said Dale, smiling.
‘No!’
They reached the lake, its blue waters twinkling in the sunlight. ‘It’s too lovely here,’ Rosie said with a sigh.
‘When it’s behaving,’ said Dale.
‘It was pretty awesome, even in the storm,’ she said. ‘In the proper sense of the word. I’ll never forget the sound of the thunder echoing around the mountains.’
He looked across at her, his expression serious. ‘He’d never leave the Lakes, Rosie. It’s in his blood. You should know that.’ He pulled into a car park not far from the water. ‘That’s his car,’ he said, pointing to an old Land Rover. ‘I’ll go fetch.’
‘I’ll come, if he’s not too far away.’
Dale fiddled with his phone. ‘Locator. Hang on … rubbish reception … Okay, he’s five minutes away. Shall we see how you go?’
Rosie moved slowly along the lakeside on her crutches, Dale by her side.
Rounding a small headland, they spotted him in the shallows, wearing waders, casting a line which caught the sun as he whipped his fishing rod back and forth before letting the lure drop onto the surface, sending ripples out onto the calm waters of the lake.
Dale put two fingers into his mouth and whistled. Ant looked over and raised a hand. Wainwright, who’d been sitting on the pebble beach, bounded over … to Rosie.
‘Wainwright likes you,’ said Dale. ‘You’re so in there.’ He bent to pat the dog, then said, ‘It’s time for me to bow out.’ He smiled at Rosie. ‘One last piece of advice. Ant won’t make the first move, so you’ll need to.’
‘Understood.’
His face broke into a grin. ‘So … my best mate’s about to get a new girlfriend. Just as well you’re cool and I like you.’
‘You’re ridiculously cool and I like you very much.’
He looked her in the eye. ‘Don’t hurt him, Rosie.’
‘I won’t,’ she said, feeling choked.
He kissed her cheek, raised a hand and loped off back to the car park. As he disappeared round the headland, fragments of a song floated back to her on the wind: ‘She’s my best friend’s girlfriend … and she used to be mine.’