Change of Life (54 page)

Rosie also began a twelve month career break last January and is using the time to think what she wants to do next, which may, or may not, be continuing to teach. We started our, temporarily, job free lives by going to Australia for six weeks, just after New Year.

Robbie is a frequent visitor to our home. He now knows the full story of Heather’s death, and he continues to have long talks with Rosie about his birth mother. He’s also been spending some time with Rick.

Then at the end of March, Rosie had a double celebration. She had her fiftieth birthday and she was told that she was in the clear. The cancer is completely gone – and other than regular check-ups she’s free to get on with living.

To mark both these wonderful events we had a ceilidh. All the people who are precious to us were there, including the Sutherlands. Ruby and her husband were also among Rosie’s guests. Ruby has now retired from cleaning for us but is still very much part of our lives. Dan brought his new partner, Simon, to the party and Sam’s boyfriend, Calum, and Jenny’s Stewart were also there. It was a magical evening. There was a ceilidh band and lots of reels were danced. The highlight was something I’d arranged as a surprise for Rosie. It was Eilidh singing ‘My Love is like a Red, Red Rose,’ accompanied by Jenny on her fiddle and Adam on his guitar. Jenny’d taught Adam to play it and, according to Kirsty, in whose house they’d practiced, he’d slogged at it to get it just right.

Robbie’s fiftieth birthday present to Rosie was something unique and very special. He’d come to me with the idea not long after Christmas. He wanted to do a charcoal sketch of me to give to her. He was keen for it to be a surprise and asked me to sit for him in secret. I agreed in principle – after all it was a lovely idea - but something about it
niggled
me. It took me a couple of days to pin down exactly why I had reservations. I was visiting Ma when it dawned on me. I happened to glance at the photos on the mantelpiece in Ma’s living room and there was one of her and my stepfather. They were sitting on the garden bench, looking at each other and laughing. They just looked so - together.

I wanted this picture of Robbie’s to capture that same spirit. I wanted it to be of us – Rosie and me – together. After everything that had happened I didn’t want to be alone – not even in a portrait.

Robbie rose to the challenge. He captured Rosie’s likeness perfectly from a photo I’d taken of her at Christmas time. The resulting sketch showed Rosie and me – head and shoulders in profile – smiling at each other. Robbie had it mounted in a plain silver frame. It was simple and utterly beautiful.

Robbie asked me to give the picture to Rosie. He said he felt that was the right way to do it.

So on the morning of her birthday, after I’d brought us breakfast in bed – eggs Florentine and smoked salmon – and after we’d finished eating, I gave her the drawing.

I was aware of holding my breath as Rosie
unwrapped
it. When she saw the picture, she gave a little gasp and put her fingertips to her lips.

“Oh, Tom,” she said, passing the portrait to me. “Look at what Robbie’s done. How on earth did he manage it – not from memory surely?” There were tears in her eyes as she took it back and gazed at it.

I explained how it had come about. When I finished she couldn’t speak at first. Then she whispered, “I love it.” In the end I had to prise it from her grasp so that I could show her just how much I loved her.

And now, as I tidy up the clippings and put away the gardening tools, I allow myself to look forward, and not only to getting back to work at the hospital. In July, we’re going on holiday to Skye with Lucy, Graham, Kirsty and Rick. Yes, me and Rick in the same cottage for a week. Who’d have thought it? Kirsty has sold the family croft and she and Rick are having a house built close to where she grew up. They plan to move to Skye in October after Eilidh goes to university.

Walking back up the garden, towards the house, I admire the results of my labour. The garden looks good. It won’t stay tidy of course. It’ll keep growing and needing attention.

As I approach the house, I see Rosie sitting on the bench by the back door. Sam, home from uni now that first year is over, is lying back on my reclining, garden chair. She’s reading and is plugged into her i-pod. She’s working for most of the summer in a bookshop in Edinburgh and then, in September, she and Calum are going off round Europe by train. I’m trying to be cool about this plan, but it’s not coming naturally.

Rosie bought me the recliner for my birthday earlier this year. It’s to help me chill out, apparently, and I must admit I love it. I consider asking Sam to move so I can sit in it, but decide I can’t be bothered with the negotiations this will inevitably involve.

Instead I sit down beside Rosie. Her face is turned up to the late afternoon sun and her eyes are closed. I kiss her on the cheek. I put my arm round her and she puts her head on my shoulder. We sit like this for a while, neither of us needing to speak.

It’s me and Max on dinner duty this evening and Ma’s coming to eat with us. I’m just thinking about moving, when Max and Jenny come out of the house.

“Here you are. We’ve been calling you,” Jenny says.

“Hi you two, how was school today?” Rosie asks, as Max sits down at the end of the bench beside his mother.

“Okay,” is all Max is prepared to
say.

“It was just revision and practice classes for the music exam,” says Jenny. “It was fine. I can’t wait for next week – no more school ever! Yes! Budge up, Dad.” She squeezes in beside me at the opposite end of the bench from her brother. Rosie and I push closer together. Rosie leans her head on my shoulder again. Jenny does the same on my other shoulder.

Then Adam arrives. “So this is where you all are,” he says. He’s now several months into his mechanic’s apprenticeship and though he’s still a man of few words, he seems to be enjoying it. He and Julie are still together. Rosie and I both hope their relationship will survive when Julie goes off to university, in the autumn, to begin her engineering course. But, whatever the future holds for my son I know he has the strength of character to cope. I’m still ashamed that I ever doubted him and I’m still so proud of him. However, he did tell me recently that I was to stop telling him so. He said it was cool that I was proud, but not cool to keep saying it over and over again.

He plucks his brother from the bench and plonks him down on the grass. He then sits down beside his mother. “Hey, Ma,” he says and puts his head on her shoulder. He stretches out his legs, grinning at his brother and gives an exaggeratedly happy sigh for Max’s benefit.

“Adam – that’s my place! That’s not fair!” Max’s protests are drowned out by the rest of us laughing. I wonder why I didn’t think of doing that with Sam, but realise my back wouldn’t be up to it.

“It’s not funny,” Max complains. “Why’s it always me that’s picked on? Some things never change round here!”

Rosie and I glance at each other and smile, each knowing what the other is thinking.

The End