Chapter Twenty Two
I stare at my phone’s screen, willing it to light up with a call, a message, hell, even an email would be better than nothing.
But unsurprisingly, my pleading texts are left unread and ignored. And to be honest, I can’t blame Shaun for giving me the cold shoulder. I mean, I accused him of being unfeeling and insulted the memory of his dead brother - who’d want to speak to someone who did all that?
I didn’t mean to say what I said, it just spilled out. At that moment, all I could focus on was all the pain I’d experienced, and I selfishly forgot that Shaun’s brother had passed away.
Groaning, I knuckle my temples, wishing I could go back and blot out everything I said. He must think me so self-centred and heartless - as if the death of a sibling can even compare to a - frankly, quite terrible - marriage falling apart.
How can I even begin to apologise to him, when I was so careless and callous with my words?
Trying to distract myself, I pack my handbag, throw on my light denim jacket and leave the cottage. It’s a gorgeous spring day, warm but not too warm, the sun just peeking over the tops of the clouds and bathing the world in a beautiful golden light. It’s the sort of day that could put anyone in a brighter mood, and yet, I still feel rotten.
I’ve got nowhere to be today, so I find myself wandering about the village aimlessly, absently taking in the row of mismatched shops and the cheerful melody of birdsong from the trees that line the cobbled streets.
Quite by accident, I traipse through The Cosy Little Tearoom’s doors, I guess my body is letting me know it requires caffeine. There’s no one inside the tearoom this afternoon, except for Bill behind the counter and Puddles milling about the cafe floor, sniffing for crumbs.
‘Hiya, Ruth.’ Bill looks up from his newspaper as I approach. ‘What can I get for you?’
I scan the menu board on the wall, it’s near impossible to choose from all the tasty treats on offer.
‘Can I get a … raspberry white chocolate mocha and a slice of cherry bake-well, please?’
‘Ah, excellent choice.’ Bill folds up the paper and starts the coffee machine. He then cuts a large slice from the cake beneath the glass counter. ‘Rachel baked that tart fresh this morning, I sampled a little sliver on my lunch break and I have to say, it is stupendous.’
‘Good, I need something sweet right now.’
‘Why don’t you go find a seat? I’ll bring this over to you.’
‘Thanks, Bill.’
Though there’s plenty of places to sit, I squirrel myself away in a corner and slide Rosemary’s journal out of my handbag, turning to the page I’ve marked with an old receipt. I don’t know if I should feel guilty about reading her innermost thoughts, especially since we’ve never actually met before, but I can’t help myself. Somehow, they read like letters from an old friend.
This is the last entry, the final chapter of Rosemary’s self-written story.
Dear Diary,
I wish I knew where I stood with R.C. I know I’m not the only woman who has affection for him, but I still feel in my heart that we’re meant to be together. If only he would show me his commitment and make himself mine officially. I suppose the garden is a sign of his love for me, but I need more, and I’m growing tired of waiting.
I don’t know what the future holds, but whatever happens, I have my dear Maude to confide in, and of course, my art. Despite all the turmoil and confusion I’ve endured lately, I’ve been more inspired than ever. I’ve been painting the garden mostly, it looks so stunning laden in snow, icicles hanging from the cherry tree like crystalline ornaments.
It just goes to show that even when things seem bleakest, there is always hope. Through the harshest winters, the snowdrop prevails.
Rosemary.
Poor Rosemary, this must have been before Ronald’s public proposal to Delilah. It’s terrible how he strung her along like a plaything, picking her up and dropping her as he fancied. I wonder whether Delilah knew about their dalliances, was she completely in the dark about Ronald’s infidelities or did she turn a blind eye, like Rosemary did?
My thoughts are interrupted when Bill comes over with my food and coffee.
‘Thanks.’ I manage to smile, just about.
‘Say, is everything alright?’ He studies me as he places the tray on my table.
‘Hm, not really,’ I confess. ‘I’m feeling pretty awful, to be honest.’
‘Well, I always tell my daughters a problem shared is a problem halved.’ He gestures to the chair opposite me. ‘May I?’
Grateful for the company, I nod. ‘Please do.’
‘So, what seems to be the issue?’
Sighing, I stroke Puddles’ soft head, he yawns and rests his chin on my knee.
‘I said an awful thing to someone I care about. I didn’t mean to, it was just a careless slip of the tongue, but I’m scared I’ve hurt him terribly.’
‘Well, we all make mistakes. Have you tried apologising to him yet?’
‘Sort of, but I don’t think he wants to hear it.’
‘Hm, he might not be ready to forgive, but a genuine apology goes a long way, believe me. And if this guy is truly important to you, then it’s worth trying.’ He exhales deeply, looking wistfully toward a golden-framed photo of a woman on the wall. ‘You’ll never regret trying, Ruth. It’s the things you don’t do that haunt you. My late wife and I shared a wonderful life together, and there are still a thousand things I wish I could have said to her.’
‘She looks like she was a kind soul,’ I comment, glancing at the photograph.
‘She was. And Ruth, do you want my real advice?’
Gulping, I nod, though I’m not sure I’m ready for it.
‘You’ve just got to seize the moment, because before you know it, you’ll miss your chance. None of us are around forever, we’ve all got to make the most of our time here, and if this man means something to you, well you need to let him know.’ Gently, he pats my hand and stands up. ‘Something to think about.’
And think about it, I do. I think about it so hard, my head begins to ache.
I’m sick of being afraid of my own emotions, Bill’s right - I just have to seize the moment. Throwing back my coffee in one fell swig, I gently nudge Puddles’ from my lap and dash out of the door, leaving my bake-well behind.
I know exactly where I’m heading, I just hope Shaun will be there.