Chapter Sixteen #2
After lunch presents were exchanged, then the conversation turned to what they might all like to watch.
Her mum handed round a box of After Eights and before Rosie could work out what the connection was, she suddenly said, ‘Oh that reminds me, Rosie, I meant to tell you yesterday, I bumped into your friend Emma in town last week. She was on her lunch break and I was heading over to the butchers on the corner of Culver Street so we didn’t get long to chat, but she said she’d spoken to you recently and you’ve started dating again. ’
‘Oh, that’s lovely!’ exclaimed Anna. ‘I’m so pleased for you.’
‘Apparently it was at that expensive restaurant in Brewer Street too.’
Simon threw her a quizzical look.
‘No!’ Rosie’s voice came out rather squeaky and panicky. ‘She’s got it wrong. I mean I did have dinner…with a friend…but it wasn’t anything funny. Just a friend,’ Rosie added firmly.
And it was true. At the time. But now, after the other night…
Despite her best efforts, memories of being held tightly by Connor flooded to the surface, being kissed as though she was one of those attractive, young women in UpClose magazine and not a nearly-forty-year-old with uncontrollable hair. She hoped she wasn’t blushing.
‘Well,’ said Anna in a let’s-move-on sort of voice, ‘it’s nice to hear you’ve been getting out.’ She reached out and squeezed Rosie’s hand. ‘We are all very happy for you.’
Her mother switched on the television and Rosie internally heaved a sigh of relief, feeling that she had dodged a difficult situation.
While the food at DeLaneys might have been excellent, the company had been strained, and the evening had been rather a disappointment.
Quite a lot of one if she was being honest.
However, the feeling of relief only lasted until her mother and Anna disappeared into the kitchen to organise drinks and snacks. Rosie was stuffed after a big lunch but her mother had always catered as though guests needed to constantly graze throughout their visit.
As soon as they were alone, Simon asked the question she’d been dreading. ‘Who were you at DeLaneys with?’
‘I told you, it was a friend.’
‘So it wasn’t him then? With all those girls? I thought you said you didn’t know any of them.’
‘And by “him”, you mean whom exactly?’
Simon gave her a look that she couldn’t decipher. ‘Rosie, I’ve known you for years. Forever. I know when you’re hiding something.’
She had three options. Either to lie and invent a mysterious friend, or to tell him the truth.
Or to prevaricate so long that the others would return and hopefully, possibly, remove the need to reply.
And why should she lie anyway? Nothing happened that night and he was her landlord.
Sort of. And then in a flash of inspiration she saw the obvious and safest answer.
‘Okay, look, I was with Connor Forbes, but it’s not what you think.’
‘Yeah, right. Looked like a bit of a party to me.’
‘Well, it wasn’t. You don’t have to believe me, but he wanted some pictures to post online – he didn’t say what for – so he asked for my help; what am I supposed to do?
Turn down a free meal at the poshest restaurant in Haxford?
Not likely! The best James ever managed was a money-saving voucher for a pre-theatre dinner at a past-its-best place in London. ’
‘That’s because James wasn’t the sort of bloke who flashed his cash.’
Rosie gave a hollow laugh. ‘No, he wasn’t.’ Not for me anyway, she added silently.
‘I care about you, that’s all. That man had a bit of a reputation even before he split up with Bonnie Appleton, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.’
‘I’m not a child, Simon.’
‘No, you’re not,’ he replied stiffly. ‘But he’s the sort of person that only thinks about himself. He’ll take advantage of you, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
‘For the umpteenth time, I’m renting his garden. How is that taking advantage?’ she replied in a hoarse whisper as she heard the others returning.
Her mum and Anna eschewed the normal television programmes and selected a DVD of It’s a Wonderful Life instead.
Now it would be impossible to sneak away without looking rude.
With less than half her attention on the film, Rosie quietly fumed.
How dare Simon lecture her about seeing Connor.
It was a free country last time she checked and furthermore, her husband, to whom she’d given eight years of total devotion, had been happily shagging someone else for at least part, if not most of that time.
In Rosie’s book, that was a textbook definition of taking advantage of someone.
Since making her discovery, Rosie had not looked at the laptop again, nor made any effort to find out more about the mysterious Jacqueline.
The truth was she didn’t want to know. James was dead, which meant she couldn’t ask him, or shout at him, so what was the point?
And why shouldn’t she have dinner with Connor if she wanted to?
Granted it wasn’t quite what she expected, but that was her problem, not anyone else’s.
Connor had tried to suggest it was a business meeting and she frowned as she attempted to recall his exact words:
…are you free on Tuesday night?
Is this a date?
Do you want it to be?
It was her that had asked the question, not him. At least Emma had had the decency to be pleased for her. Rosie couldn’t help compare Emma’s enthusiastic response with Simon’s negative reaction.
It felt like a couple of weeks, not hours, had passed before the credits finally rolled and Anna and Simon departed. Anna was as maternal as always and gave her a big hug. Simon’s goodbye was rather restrained and the door had hardly closed before her mother commented on the fact.
‘Did you think Simon seemed very quiet this afternoon?’
Rosie shrugged. ‘Not particularly. Maybe he felt a bit sleepy after a big lunch.’
‘Or maybe he thinks you’re ignoring him. You’ll have to be careful not to hurt his feelings now you’ve got new friends.’
‘I went out for dinner with one friend. For the first time in months. How is that hurting his feelings? I see him nearly every day at work for goodness’ sake!’
‘Yes I know, but I’m just saying, I think there’s more to it on his side than yours. I saw what he gave you for Christmas. It’s not your fault, but you ought to be careful.’
‘Careful? I’ve spent my life being careful and where has that got me? Ladieswear assistant at Pennewicks. How exciting.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with working there, you could do a lot worse.’
Yes, I could have got married, thought Rosie angrily.
And spent years thinking that being a dutiful wife and not nagging your husband to help with chores around the house was part of what married life was all about.
With hindsight, it seemed that all she’d been doing was increasing his free time to go swanning around.
She realised she was taking out her frustrations on the wrong person, and she slipped her arm around her mum.
‘I know. You’re just looking after me. But maybe it’s time for me to move on. ’
Before she left, Rosie rounded up a few more of the boxes that had become permanent lodgers at her mum’s house.
Over the last few years, it had become something of an unofficial storage depot for many of Rosie’s belongings and it was time she dealt with some of this stuff.
Top of the list was the thing she had once adored and which now was another painful reminder of the past.