Chapter Twenty-Four
Over the last two months, Rosie had noticed a definite change.
If she and Simon had been in a relationship, it would have been described as a cooling off, but they weren’t together in that way, they were just friends.
But where previously he had come downstairs to chat to her at odd times during the working day, or walk with her to her car after work, now their meetings were brief and infrequent, and Rosie wondered if something was wrong.
The last couple of times they had met up were so that Rosie could pass on her completed angel dresses to Simon’s mother. Anna had been thrilled to see her creations and had sent back a thank you card from the appeal organiser commenting on her attention to detail.
Rosie had made each dress individual by adding embroidered details to the bodice.
Instead of a pre-made lace panel like there had been on her wedding dress, Rosie had hand sewn onto the bodice a design of some sort: flowers, little birds, or whatever else took her fancy.
However, it was her labels that Anna said really made the dresses special.
She had created the first one from a small square of satin on which she’d machine embroidered the words Made with Love, and added a pink rose.
But Rosie had realised it could be more than just a label and a piece of pretty sewing.
For subsequent dresses she had stitched it face down to an identical square of ivory satin and sewn up three sides.
She then turned it inside out to create a small pocket which she attached to the dress with a piece of ribbon, allowing the mother to give her angel baby a keepsake such as a lock of hair or a photograph.
The work was rewarding, challenging and had kept her busy over the long winter evenings. Connor had even joked that he might have to start making appointments to see her soon.
Last night Rosie had put the finishing touches to another dress and she had brought it to work with her. Normally she met Simon at work, but today she wanted to see her old friend and have a proper catch-up, so had asked him to meet for lunch.
Daisy’s Tea Rooms stood in the middle of Queen Street in the centre of the Pedestrian Zone.
It was less than a five-minute walk and Rosie relished the feel of the sun on her face after being cooped up inside all morning.
It was still only March but the promise of warmer weather and longer days filled her with enthusiasm and plans for her garden, which was now a riot of spring colours.
Every time she passed anyone’s garden, she paused to admire their flowers or shrubs, and if it was something she particularly liked but couldn’t identify, she took a sneaky picture on her phone so she could look it up later.
She also had a number of seed trays germinating, which she needed to move into her new seed house. Every time she looked at her fledgling plants she experienced a rush of excitement, and she couldn’t wait for the summer to see the results of her efforts.
As she reached Daisy’s Tea Rooms, there was already a queue of people waiting for orders to take away.
One of their specialities was the Office Lunch Box: a delicious assortment of mini pies, quiche slices, cold meats, sandwiches, pastries and salad items that was popular with office workers and families alike.
Most people knew to pre-order, so all they had to do was pop in at lunchtime, pay and pick up.
Rosie stepped aside to let someone out of the door carrying a stack of three boxes.
They were definitely in for a good treat.
Tables went quickly at lunchtime, but Rosie managed to get one of the last available spaces downstairs.
She studied the menu while she waited for Simon, and hoped he wasn’t going to be too late.
She absolutely had to get back on time as she’d been told off for being late last week, although it wasn’t entirely her fault as she’d been queuing to pay for a pair of flower-patterned wellington boots, and the person in front of her had had a problem with their credit card.
Rosie checked her watch again. Ten minutes late just about qualified as on time for Simon, and almost on cue Rosie recognised his stocky frame edging through the people waiting to collect their lunchtime orders. She waved to attract his attention.
‘You made it then,’ she said cheerfully. ‘It feels like ages since I’ve seen you. Properly, I mean, not just in staff meetings or work things. So, how have you been? What have you been up to?’
For several minutes they chatted about how work was getting busier, how nice it was that the weather was warming up a bit, and how his Norwegian flatmate, Jesper, was driving him mad with his decorating project that was taking forever to finish.
‘He’s trying out different paint effects and colours but it’s all taking an absolute age,’ Simon grumbled.
‘To be honest I think the enthusiasm is wearing off, and now the place is a mess. And it’s his place – I’m just the tenant – so I can’t even tell him to get a move on.
Everything is covered in dust sheets and if I want to watch something I have to do it on my laptop in my room; hardly the same as seeing it on a forty-inch screen. ’
After the waitress had taken their order and moved away, there was a pause in their conversation as if both were waiting for the other to say something. Eventually Rosie broke the silence.
‘Did you notice, I’m wearing the necklace you gave me for Christmas?’ She held out the teardrop shaped pendant to show him.
Simon smiled briefly. ‘I’m pleased you like it.’
Rosie was glad she had remembered to put it on this morning. She didn’t usually wear jewellery for work but she wanted Simon to know she appreciated the gift.
‘Of course I do.’
‘And how is the garden coming along?’
‘Really well, thanks. I can show you some pictures.’ Rosie pulled out her phone, opened her album entitled Garden and passed it over to Simon. ‘There are millions – sorry – so feel free to whizz through them, otherwise you’ll be here all day.’
She watched as Simon scrolled through the photos.
He paused at one and appeared to study it.
‘Does he help you in the garden?’ He angled the phone so Rosie could see what he was referring to, although it wasn’t too hard to guess.
It was a photo she had taken last week of her crocuses.
Connor had been leaning over the fence in the corner of the garden, talking to Jacob, but had somehow ended up on the edge of the photo.
‘I thought he was just the landlord, or whatever you called it.’
There was that edge again to his voice.
‘If by “help” you mean stand around and watch me work or natter to the neighbours, then yes, sometimes.’ She smiled to show that this was meant to be humorous, but Simon didn’t reciprocate.
‘So you’re not seeing him then?’
Rosie blinked. Was that a hint of jealousy?
Simon had never given her cause to think of their relationship as anything other than long-standing friends.
A few years after she and James had got married, she had supported Simon through a relationship break-up.
He, in turn, had been a saviour after James’ death.
But that was what friends did. Rosie opted for a light-hearted response.
‘Well, he’s not invisible, if that’s what you mean.’
Simon shifted in his seat. ‘I think you know it isn’t.’
Mercifully, their food orders arrived and Rosie was happy to let the matter rest. Simon clearly didn’t like Connor, but Rosie was not prepared to hide the facts in order to keep him happy.
She’d spent years putting someone else’s feelings before her own and where had that got her?
However, she didn’t want to fall out with her oldest friend and he, like everyone else bar one, remained in ignorance over James’ infidelity.
Rosie reached across the table and patted his arm. ‘Simon, I know you are a kind and caring person. But I’ve realised that over the years I was with James, we only ever did the things he wanted to do. I hope you don’t begrudge me having some independence now he’s gone.’
‘I thought you were happy together.’
Rosie didn’t answer.
‘I just want you to be happy, that’s all.
I bet you haven’t seen half the things people have written about Connor Forbes, and if even a quarter of them are true, you’re better off steering clear of him.
Trust me, he’s not reliable, and he’s only friendly with people for as long as they’re useful.
He was even stupid enough have an affair with Bonnie’s PA. ’
‘That was media gossip and actually not true,’ Rosie protested.
Simon gave her look she couldn’t decipher. ‘Is that what he told you?’
‘Yes, and I believe him. And so that you don’t find out later and think I’m hiding things from you, he’s taking me to a party in two weeks’ time.’
Simon’s normally placid expression was replaced by a look of alarm. ‘He’s doing what? Rosie, if you think for one minute this means anything, you are going to get hurt. And if you think otherwise, I’m sorry, but you’re deluded.’
A flash of annoyance rose through her, and with some difficulty, Rosie suppressed the retort that was on the tip of her tongue.
She trusted Connor, and it was one party, for goodness’ sake.
They parted company at the door, Simon pleading errands to run.
Rosie handed over the bag for Anna, and watched as he ambled off down Queen Street.
As she walked back, the conversation kept replaying in her head as though she had missed something important.
Simon didn’t know Connor Forbes personally, not like she did.
He only knew what was written in the newspapers or social media gossip.
And that, as far as she was concerned, was not something she was going to spend time worrying about and neither should he.
Rosie felt bruised after her conversation with Simon; it hurt to know that her oldest friend clearly disapproved of her relationship with Connor Forbes.
She could easily have played her trump card; paraded James’ affair in front of him, but she was too ashamed of what it said about her.
At least Emma had been delighted for her when Rosie had phoned almost straightaway to tell her the news.
No, really? You’re kidding me! That’s soooo exciting!
Many of her friendships had drifted after the death of her husband; Rosie acknowledged this was partly down to her reluctance to join in social occasions, where she’d have to listen to other people discussing plans to start a family, or sharing toddler troubles, or making careful sympathetic enquiries as to how she was managing.
At Pennewicks, there was always the common denominator of work to keep the conversation flowing – that and her colleague Jasmine’s disastrous love life – and for many months that had been enough for her.
After a long and difficult year, she was now trying to make a new life for herself, by doing new things, being more adventurous, and she wanted her friends to be happy for her, not issue warnings.
Later that evening she had a catch-up with Emma; she wanted to ask her advice on party etiquette.
‘Where is the party again? Do you know what sort of people are invited? I’m so excited for you!’
Rosie had to hold the phone further away from her head to prevent accidental ear damage.
Although Emma was eager for facts, Rosie didn’t have all that many; she didn’t know anything about the person whose birthday it was, whether any A-list celebrities were going (not that she would probably recognise them anyway) nor what she was going to wear.
‘Well, that I can help you with,’ said Emma decisively. ‘If Cinderella is going to the ball, I’m definitely coming dress shopping with her. And don’t think I’m stopping there either. We’re getting you new shoes, a handbag, and definitely new lingerie.’
‘Oh, but I’ve got lots of—’
‘Stop! Rosie Steadman, you are not going on a date with Connor Forbes in your sensible knickers, otherwise I will be officially disowning you.’