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Authors: Alan Titchmarsh

Rosie (27 page)

BOOK: Rosie
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‘Thank you. I will.’

Nick said goodbye and thanked his educator. He wondered if he dared take in all the diamonds, or whether that would make Elliott Williams suspicious of how he had come by them.

In this, and in other matters, he would need to come to a firm decision over the next couple of days.

When he got back to the Anchorage Sophie was packing her bag.

‘I thought you weren’t going until the weekend?’

‘Been here long enough. Given you enough grief. Thought I’d better move out.’

‘Don’t be stupid!’

‘No, it’s all right. You need your space. Especially now.’

‘But you can stay. I don’t mind.’

Sophie stopped folding a shirt. ‘What I said last night. Sorry if I got carried away. Too much wine.’

‘Don’t worry – you were quite right. I was talking to Rosie today and she was telling me her side of the story.’

‘Poor Nick. You’re getting it from all sides, aren’t you?’

‘Oh, I can cope. I’m made of tough stuff.’

Sophie put her head on one side. ‘Do you know? I think you are!’

‘You sound surprised.’

‘I am. Always thought you were the gentle one.’

‘It’s a common misconception. That just because somebody is quiet and doesn’t make a fuss, they’re ineffectual.’ He smiled at her.

Sophie zipped up her bag and picked up her jacket.

‘You’ll cope. I’m sure that whatever happens will be for the best.’

‘Yes. Of course.’ And then, under his breath, ‘I just wish I shared your conviction.’

He was waiting for her in the MG at half past six, in case the ferry was early. They never were, but tonight he wanted to be sure. He wondered what she had said to Victoria, and what Victoria had said to her. He fretted and tried to imagine their conversation over and over again, but paranoia made it come out all wrong.

‘Do you have to go?’ Victoria would have asked.

‘Just one last time,’ would have been Alex’s answer. ‘Then I’ll be back here for good.’

He must be more positive. He knew Victoria liked him. She’d told him so, hadn’t she? She’d said her mother loved him. But how could she know?

He tried to stop speculating, knowing it was counterproductive, but when the human mind discovers a weakness it gnaws away at it like a dog with a bone.

Eventually he got out of the car, leaned on the bonnet and looked out across the water. He could see the ferry rounding the headland. It would be here in five or ten minutes, and then he would know his fate.

He brushed down his trousers. He had decided on the navy chinos and the dark blue shirt in the hope that they made him look irresistible. He grimaced at the thought. Him? Irresistible? That was a laugh. He had looked at himself naked in the mirror that morning, doing a kind of stock-take of himself at nearly forty. He was still in passable shape, still staving off the advent of middle-age spread, still upright, reasonably muscular, not too pale. And then he had shaken his head at his own vanity, and pulled on jeans and a sweat shirt for his trip into Newport. But now he was clean shaven and smartened up.

The ferry shimmied up to the slipway and the ramp descended. Cars flooded off, and to either side of them came foot passengers: teenagers with rucksacks, parents with children, old men and women, some with sticks. There were a couple of dogs and half a dozen cyclists, but no sign of Alex.

Perhaps she was holding back. Waiting until all the traffic had disembarked. Yes, that must be it. But after ten minutes, when the last car and pedestrian had walked up the slipway, and the cars for the return crossing were being driven down to the water’s edge and up the ramp of the ferry, he realized she was not there – that she had not come.

 
 
30
Blush Damask

. . . the decayed flowers are very reluctant to fall.

‘D
o you think you could move your car, sir? It’s causing an obstruction.’

He didn’t answer. He was miles away.

‘Sir? Excuse me!’

‘What?’

‘Your car. It’s in the way. Could you move it or get on board?’

‘Yes. Yes, of course. Just a minute.’ He got out of the car, ran across to the booking office, bought a ticket, then drove on to the ferry. If she wouldn’t come to him, he’d go to her. Even if she didn’t want to see him, at least he could clear things up, tell her that if she ever changed her mind he would be there whenever she needed him. She and Victoria.

He had her address but was not familiar with that part of Portsmouth. The ferry seemed to take an age, waltzing around the Solent as though it were on a dance floor. Just as he thought they were making headway, the vessel seemed to slow down. What was the problem? Why weren’t they going faster? Then he realized that they couldn’t dock at Portsmouth until the other ferry vacated the berth. Damn! He looked at his watch. A quarter to eight. With any luck he’d be there within fifteen minutes. Thirty at the outside.

What would he say? What
should
he say? Right now, no words would come. His mind was blank. He tried to think clearly. Tried to imagine why she hadn’t come. Perhaps she had decided to catch a later ferry – the one that was only now leaving the berth. He scrutinized the row of passengers leaning over the rail. She was not there. But he might have missed her. Perhaps she was inside. He tapped the steering-wheel impatiently.

When he drove off, a lady walking a dog offered directions, and soon he was driving in a smart street on the edge of the city, looking for number twenty-nine.

As he pulled up outside the modern terraced house, he saw Victoria’s face at the window. As soon as she saw him she turned away, clearly talking to someone. Then she looked out again. Alex appeared at her shoulder. He got out of the car and waved. She waved back. But she did not smile.

He found it difficult to talk in front of Victoria, and so did Alex. ‘Why don’t you pop up to your room, sweetheart?’ she said.

Victoria looked from one to the other. ‘Do I have to?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ Alex told her.

‘OK.’ She paused in the doorway and said, ‘Goodbye, Nick.’

He raised a hand, then turned back to Alex, who was filling the kettle. ‘Why did you say you would come?’

‘Because I didn’t want to disappoint you.’ She looked agonized. ‘I’m sorry, I really am.’ She motioned him to sit at the kitchen table.

‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘It seemed to be going so well. Even when Victoria went missing we found her together.’

‘I know. It’s just that . . .’ She seemed reluctant to meet his eye. She looked embarrassed, almost ashamed. ‘I just think we’d better stop seeing each other for a while.’ She said it with little enthusiasm.

‘But why?’

‘Because I have to think of Victoria.’

‘Why does that mean we have to stop seeing each other?’

‘Because I don’t want to upset her any more. She’s been through a lot lately, what with her dad leaving, and then going missing . . .’

‘But she only went missing because she wanted to see Rosie and find out if she was all right.’

‘No. She went missing because she was upset, unsettled and frightened.’

‘Is that what she said? She told me it was because she wanted to see Rosie.’ He hesitated. ‘And me.’

Alex studied him carefully, then came and sat down. ‘I can’t risk anything going wrong between her and me. I just can’t. She’s all I’ve got.’

Nick sat back. ‘She’s not. You’ve got me, you know you have.’

Alex shook her head. ‘No, I don’t. I know we’ve had a good time, but I don’t really know you. And you don’t really know me. It might be fun for a few more weeks, months even, but what if it all ended then? Where would that leave Victoria?’

Nick bridled. ‘How can you say that? How can you say that we simply “had a good time”?’ You know it was more than that.’

‘Do I?’

He was angry now. ‘Yes, you do. And if you’re trying to claim otherwise, then you’re fooling yourself. If you can say that when we were together – properly together – you didn’t really know me, then I don’t believe you. You felt the same way as I did. Even if you didn’t say so.’

She spoke quickly now. ‘You just can’t see, can you?’

‘See what?’

‘Why I have to do this?’

‘No, I can’t.’

‘But then you’ve never had a child.’

He was stung, knowing how things could have been so very different. He hesitated a moment before he spoke. ‘It doesn’t mean I can’t see how important Victoria is, and why it’s important that she’s happy – but that shouldn’t mean that
you
have to be unhappy. You can’t simply live your life for her.’

‘Why not? I brought her into the world. She’s my responsibility. I can’t mess up.’

He was exasperated now. ‘Why this obsession with “messing up”? It can’t be right to shut yourself away and not have any relationships of your own.’

‘But I had a relationship of my own and it didn’t work.’

‘So what? That doesn’t make you a failure. Doesn’t mean you’ll never have a good relationship. But you have to give yourself a chance.’

‘It’s a chance I can’t take.’

Nick stood up. ‘Rubbish! It might be a chance you’re not
prepared
to take, but only if you’re a coward.’

‘I’m not a coward!’ There was a catch in her voice.

‘Well, why are you trying to break up with me? What’s the point in that?’

‘The point is that Victoria’s life—’

‘Victoria, Victoria, always Victoria! What about Alex?’

‘I can’t think about me right now.’

‘Well, you should. What sort of life is it going to be for Victoria, knowing that she has a mother at her beck and call the whole time, but only because her mother daren’t have a relationship in case it upsets her?’

‘That’s ridiculous!’

‘Is it? You have a bright child up there,’ he pointed in the direction of Victoria’s room, ‘and she’ll know it makes no sense for her mother to be alone.’

‘She’s only ten—’

‘Yes, and she’s sharper than many fifteen-year-olds. But she’s not emotionally equipped yet, and treating her like some china doll isn’t going to help her in that department.’

‘And neither is a string of boyfriends.’

‘Oh, I see.’ He was angry now. ‘You reckon I’m the first in a long line, do you?’

‘No. But that’s what might happen.’

‘It might. But that’s not my intention. I came here because I love you and I want to be with you. And
I
’ve thought about Victoria, too. I know how important she is to you, and I like her a lot. She’ll become important to me, if you give me a chance. But if you just shut yourself away because of what
might
happen, then you’ll never know joy. The sort of joy that we knew the other night. Passion, yes, but more than that. Pleasure in each other’s company. And love, too. Deep love. It wasn’t just lust. Or am I the one who’s fooling myself?’

‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘You’re not.’

‘Then don’t break up with me. Please! Give me a chance to show you that I care – for you both. That’s all I ask. A chance to prove myself.’

‘But you can’t promise that it will turn out all right.’

‘No, I can’t. But I can promise you I’ll try – with every fibre in my body. If it doesn’t work out in the end I’ll have done everything I possibly can to make it work, and that must count for something.’

The kettle’s shrill whistle brought a halt to the conversation. Alex got up and turned off the gas. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just that with Paul coming back and Victoria going off the rails . . .’

‘She didn’t go off the rails.’ He spoke softly now, his tone conciliatory. ‘She just got a bit . . . lost inside herself. Needed to find something to cling on to.’

‘And I wasn’t there.’

‘You were. It’s just that Paul was there, too, and that threw her.’

Alex turned to face him. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No,
I
’m sorry – sorry you feel it’s all your fault. It really isn’t, you know. You’re a wonderful person. The very fact that you’re having this conversation proves it. But don’t give up on your own happiness because you think it’s the only way to ensure Victoria’s. I can’t believe that’s true. It doesn’t make sense.’

Alex lowered her head, and he could see tears flowing down her cheeks. She wiped her face with the back of her hand.

He got up and walked across to comfort her, but she turned away from him and stared out of the window. ‘You’d better go now. It would be for the best. I’m so sorry.’

He stood for a moment, one hand outstretched as if it was frozen. He lowered it. ‘What a lot of sorries,’ he said. And then, quietly, ‘Goodbye.’

She did not reply.

As he left he did not turn back. If he had done, he would have seen the face of a small girl standing in the upstairs window, her body gently rocking from side to side.

 
 
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BOOK: Rosie
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