What Rosie Found Next (11 page)

He shrugged. ‘I’d always wanted a tattoo.’

‘It never appealed to me.’

Now why didn’t that surprise him?

‘I got this one when I was seventeen,’ said Owen, ‘but don’t ask me why it’s a rose – it’s nothing to do with the heavy metal band Guns N’ Roses
,
by the way. I guess I just liked it.’

When Adam disappeared inside to watch the cricket, Rosie finally came to a stop beside Owen to catch her breath.

‘Is everything okay, Stevens?’

‘Of course.’ She smiled unconvincingly before ploughing back the other way, her head turning every third stroke to take a breath.

Adam had no idea how lucky he was to have Rosie, and Owen was left wondering whether she would ever put herself first in their relationship. God knows she deserved to.

Miss Marple’s Tearoom in Sassafras resembled an English Tudor style cottage, quaint windows rounding out from the second-storey of the building, window boxes full of blooms beneath. Rosie had brought Adam out for lunch today because she needed to talk to him, away from the house, about the promotion bombshell he’d dropped at dinner.

They were shown to a table, and Rosie eyed an enormous dessert big enough to feed a family of four as a waitress delivered it to a couple sitting beside the window.

‘I swam all those lengths last night, I feel like I deserve something naughty,’ she told Adam. A bit of sustenance before she asked him to be straight with her wouldn’t go astray either.

She watched Adam dither over the menu, trying to find something healthy. This man had made her feel safe and secure for a long time. He was perfect for her. His sandy blond hair was cut straight at the back, neat at the sides, as sharp-edged as the business suits he wore, and a Tin-tin-like quiff at the front hinted at a softer side to him.

He looked up from his menu. ‘How about after this house-sit, you come over to Singapore for a while?’

His suggestion met with a smile. ‘I’d love to, but there’s my job at Magnolia House to consider.’

‘It’s only part-time, they won’t mind giving you a bit of time off.’

‘I can’t, Adam. It wouldn’t be right. And I need to be here in the New Year to look for another house-sit or somewhere to rent fairly nearby.’

She’d prefer to be buying somewhere with him but there were only so many hints you could drop. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to come,’ she said. ‘It’s just—’

He sighed. ‘I know. You have your work. And it’s the same with me.’

Either he was very understanding or he’d set her up to make the point that work was important to both of them.

The waitress, dressed in black with a white pinny, brought over a jug of water and poured it into two glasses before setting the jug down in the middle of the table.

‘Tell me a bit more about this promotion,’ Rosie said when the waitress left. She’d been so defensive last night that she’d barely taken anything in as he’d told her about this new position he was in line for.

His blue eyes rounded and his naturally curved-up lips broke into a bigger smile as he told her all about it: more responsibility, a salary increase and better long-term prospects.

‘It could be what we’re both looking for, Rosie. I didn’t want to say anything to you before, but you’d love it in Singapore. Some of the apartments are amazing and there’s a huge expat community. A lot of people have a maid, so you wouldn’t even have to clean.’

‘Hold on a minute. Another country has never been on the agenda for us.’

‘We wouldn’t need to stay forever. I’m doing this for us, to build us a fantastic life.’

In this entire conversation, he was telling her what was happening when really he should’ve been asking her what she wanted for their future. Her mind flashed momentarily to the cottage in Daisy Lane.

A plate of champagne ham, English cheddar and chutney fingers appeared in front of Rosie, but her appetite had disappeared. She felt nauseous. All the while they’d been separated, she had thought she knew what direction they were heading in, and now she had no idea.

A fruit salad was set down in front of Adam. ‘Rosie, I want us to be together as much as you do—’

‘Do you?’

‘I may not even get the promotion.’

Rosie knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t have mentioned it if it wasn’t almost a done deal. ‘What happens if you get this promotion and I don’t want to go to Singapore?’

Adam’s fork speared a chunk of melon. ‘Why don’t we wait and see?’

Rosie managed to eat half of her lunch and try to make the most of some togetherness before Adam jetted off again. But the atmosphere between them in the car on the way back to the house was strained. Adam tried to rest a hand on her thigh, but it felt more obligatory than loving, as though if he didn’t do it, the boat would rock even more.

When they pulled up at the house mid-afternoon, Owen’s bike was in the driveway. It was funny how Owen’s presence here felt natural, whereas Adam’s presence was beginning to feel increasingly out of place.

Rosie grabbed an ice-cold can of Diet Coke from the fridge, and Adam picked up the local newspaper from the kitchen bench without a care in the world and went outside to the deck.

‘Well, well, well,’ he said when Rosie joined him. ‘Evel Knievel has a girlfriend.’

She waved back when Owen spotted them looking over and did her best to appear indifferent, grateful to hide behind her sunglasses and a newspaper supplement.

She’d known Owen wouldn’t be short of women to choose from, but so far he’d kept that part of his life private. The girl with him was clinging to him like an overzealous koala, and Owen threw her back into the water. She squealed in the annoying-girlie-protest way, translating, literally, to keep-doing-it-I-love-it.

Owen eventually hoisted himself out of the pool and came up to the house, the girly-giggler following closely behind.

‘Hey guys. This is Carrie, Carrie this is Rosie, my housemate, and Adam, her boyfriend.’

Carrie flashed them a perfectly white, straight-toothed smile. ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’ All tanned, Rosie wondered if the girl had ever had to put an ounce of sunscreen on in her entire life.

Rosie forced a polite greeting. ‘It’s nice to meet you too.’

‘Owen tells me you work at Magnolia House,’ Carrie said. ‘My sister’s getting married there in December. It’s a beautiful place.’

Rosie thawed. ‘It is. She’ll have a beautiful day.’

‘I’m sure she will.’ Carrie giggled as Owen dragged her inside and up the stairs, laughing all the way.

They were dripping water all over the carpet, Rosie noticed.

‘So Evel Knievel does have a life apart from you.’ Adam made his remark without looking up from his newspaper.

‘We’re sharing a roof, nothing else.’

‘No need to get defensive, I was kidding. Carrie seems nice anyway.’

Rosie tried to relax, aware of the murmurs and laughter drifting from the open window of Owen’s room looking out over the back garden.

When Owen and Carrie appeared in the kitchen almost an hour later, Carrie was still all smiles.

‘How are you enjoying Magnolia Creek?’ she asked Rosie as her perfectly shaped nails settled around a bottle of water Owen had passed her from the fridge.

‘It’s beautiful, very friendly,’ Rosie replied. ‘Are you from around here?’

Carrie’s blond hair had dried wavy, and as she stood at the bench, she wound it up in a hair tie and Owen kissed the back of her neck.

‘I’m a Gold Coast girl,’ she told Rosie when Owen left her alone.

That explained the tan, then. She could imagine Carrie at the beach every single day, bronzing her perfect body.

‘My sister relocated to Melbourne a couple of years ago and I followed her in June last year,’ Carrie went on. ‘I met Owen a couple of weeks ago at the petrol station. I couldn’t open the petrol cap, so he came to the rescue. I know it sounds ridiculously girly, but it was stuck fast.’ She grinned. ‘I’m not a total airhead though.’

‘Carrie is a paediatrician.’ Owen hooked an arm around her shoulders. ‘She works in the emergency department.’

Well that made Rosie feel
so
much better about the epitome of physical perfection standing in front of her. It would’ve been some consolation to know Carrie didn’t have much in the brain department. But not only was she beautiful, but the girl saved children’s lives too. It seemed she had the whole package.

The image of perfection had pulled Adam inside, and Rosie leaned against him when he hugged her.

‘It was lovely to meet you both,’ said Carrie. ‘But I’m on an early shift tomorrow, so I’d better have Owen give me a lift home now.’ She turned to Owen. ‘You could always stay over at my apartment tonight.’

Well this would be interesting since Owen had confessed he didn’t like to spend the night with a girl and give her the wrong impression.

‘I’d better not.’ Owen kissed Carrie and squeezed her shoulders. ‘The weather’s hotting up, so I need to be around in case the team are called out.’

He’d sidestepped her request well.

Adam nuzzled at Rosie’s neck after the others left. ‘I was beginning to wonder if Owen had his eye on you, but now I know he has a girlfriend I can rest a bit easier.’ He trailed kisses up her neck until he reached her ear lobe and then he took her hand and led her upstairs. ‘Let’s enjoy having the place to ourselves before he gets back.’

Rosie trailed behind him with a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Rosie was up early the next morning despite tossing and turning most of the night. She shared breakfast with Adam and waved him off – again – but this time it was more of a relief than anything else. As her shift didn’t start until ten o’clock, she took a walk to clear her head. It was swimming with thoughts of a potential move abroad, thoughts of the secrets she’d found beneath the rose bush.

She wandered past the cottage on Daisy Lane again, glad she hadn’t shown Adam. With a promotion on the horizon, there was no way he would’ve ever matched her enthusiasm. At least this way he couldn’t completely take the dream away from her. She did the sums in her head yet again, but even if she worked full-time, there was no way she could make buying this place work, not on one salary with all the renovations the cottage would need.

To satisfy her coffee craving, Rosie stopped at Finnegan’s on her way to work and ended up telling Bella all her woes about her love life. Well, most of them anyway.

‘I suppose the big question,’ said Bella after she’d handed Rosie her drink, ‘is whether you still love him?’ She finished lining the cinnamon scrolls up on display and then she and Rosie moved to the side of the café as Rodney served the next customer.

‘Maybe we’ve both changed,’ said Rosie. ‘It isn’t fun like it once was. It’s different now.’

‘Oh, Rosie.’ Bella wiped her hands on her apron. ‘I think that’s life. Rodney and I are different people to who we were in the beginning. Back then it was all excitement and we couldn’t keep our hands off one another.’

Rosie smiled. ‘I don’t mean different in that way.’

‘Then how?’

‘In the beginning, I admired Adam for his ambition, the way he knew exactly what he wanted in life and went for it at every opportunity. But I’m starting to realise his dreams are bigger than mine.’

‘Go on …’

‘I want the simple life, Bella.’ It was what her mum had wanted too, and probably the reason behind her parents’ marriage breakdown. Her dad was a simple man, but he’d taken risks and it had been a deal-breaker in the end.

‘I’m not sure it’ll ever be enough for him,’ said Rosie.

‘Well then, perhaps it’s time you sat down and talked about what each of you really wants. And if it isn’t the same thing, then there’s your answer.’

‘You talk a lot of sense.’ Rosie smiled.

‘I’ve been around for a bit longer than you, that’s all. So will you talk to him?’

‘I will, but he’s in Singapore, and it’s not the sort of discussion I really want to have over the telephone.’ Then again, in person she found it hard to get her feelings across. She’d always been independent, but for some reason she always let Adam take control. Perhaps sometimes she just had enough of being the leader, the person who always made things happen.

‘You’ll work things out,’ Bella assured her. ‘Anyway, how’s Owen treating you?’

‘We’re getting along fine.’ Rosie sipped her coffee.

‘Can I ask whether he has anything to do with the doubts surfacing about Adam?’

Rosie’s coffee went down the wrong way and she coughed. ‘You’re certainly blunt.’

‘And you’re avoiding the question.’ Bella kept her voice down and moved out of the way of the latest customer perusing the jars of homemade jam lined up along the shelf next to where they were standing.

Rosie couldn’t deny she was attracted to Owen, but more than that, she felt an emotional connection to him since she’d found out more about his family. But she did owe it to Adam, and to herself, to put her relationship first before any fleeting crush with a man who was very different to what she needed.

As Bella took her position behind the counter and took payment from a customer for the homemade raspberry jam, Rosie desperately wanted to mention the box beneath the rose bushes. She was tired of carrying this secret alone, but with more customers flocking into the café and Bella whipping up skim lattes, hot chocolates and so many combinations of eggs, toast and side orders that even Rosie was confused, she said goodbye and went to work.

*

At the fire station that afternoon it was all systems go with a call to a structure fire. The crew had their routine down pat and Owen pulled on the bright yellow trousers, looped the braces over his navy T-shirt and pushed his feet into the steel-capped boots. The only thing different this time was that he was on his way to a venue close to home, a venue where he knew Rosie was working a shift.

Sirens blaring, the truck swung out of the fire station on the short journey to Magnolia House. They’d been called out last week and the week before to the same place – Rosie had been safely at home both times – and it had turned out to be a false alarm on both occasions.

He had hoped that was the case today, but when the fire truck screamed to a halt sending dust on the driveway up into air already tarnished with smoke, he knew this was the real thing. Smoke billowed from a side window as the crew leapt from the truck. Their first in command yelled to confirm, ‘Gas supply and electricity supply switched off.’

Owen was trained to use breathing apparatus gear, but even now, when it was time to be kitted up, he knew he’d have to take a deep breath before he pulled on the face mask and had the BA cylinder fixed to his back. The first time he’d ever donned all the gear he’d felt claustrophobic and panicked, and he’d been pissed at himself for freaking out. He’d been told it was understandable if he wanted to pull out of the training, but the challenge had become like any other in his life and he’d met it head on.

Hurrying, he fitted the mask over his face and tightened the rubber straps, finishing with the one that ran from the middle of his eyebrows right down the middle of the back of his head. He pulled the flash hood over the top to protect his ears and neck and then pushed his helmet on, securing it in place by tightening the chin strap. He assisted his colleague Gus putting on a BA cylinder, and Gus returned the favour for Owen.

When someone yelled out that there was a body inside, Owen’s head snapped round, his legs juddered, and the weight of the potential tragedy faced him head on. His heart hammered away, beating out Ro-sie, Ro-sie, Ro-sie. Suddenly, the prep before entering a structure that took seconds because they were all so familiar with the routine felt as though it was taking forever. He pictured Rosie’s face, heard her voice and her laugh, imagined her hair tumbling around her shoulders.

He took a deep breath and turned on the BA cylinder strapped to his back. Something Owen had learnt from the start, back in the days of junior brigade, was that whether you were a voluntary or career firefighter, brigades were like a second family and someone always had your back. So, when Owen entered the structure fire first, Gus followed.

Owen pointed the Thermal Imaging Camera straight ahead. The thick smoke made it impossible to see anything without the device that read heat signatures and indicated vital information, including the source of the fire and anybody who may be trapped inside. He moved cautiously through the corridor, turning the TIC left and right, searching quickly but thoroughly, glad he knew the layout of the place already thanks to the previous two false alarms.

The fire was confined, for the moment, to the side of the venue where a second kitchen was located. He moved left from the corridor and as he turned, patches of red showed on the TIC and led him to a person trapped inside. The body was curled up on the floor at the side of the room, but the camera showed movement. Thoughts of Rosie ricocheted through his mind as he panned the camera to rule out danger from the heat sources shown beyond the victim’s position. The flash hoods they were required to wear made what was almost audible damn near impossible to hear, and he used hand gestures and yelling to tell Gus to take over the TIC so he could step forwards and rescue whoever it was lying there.

Owen took only seconds to reach the victim and haul them to standing. With every step he took he cradled the person’s weight, every step towards their escape pounding in his ears that this could be Rosie. He exhaled hard into his BA, determined not to let panic get the better of him.

The second he stepped outside, paramedics took the victim from his arms and sounds of his own breathing filled his ears. Owen’s job was to get back and help Gus now, watch his back. But he had to know. He had to know if it was Rosie. His breathing came in rasps despite the BA and sounded eerily Darth-Vader like.

He rushed to the ambulance. He saw the victim’s face. It wasn’t her.

And now he still had a job to do.

Back inside, the TIC in Gus’s hands showed deep patches of red, which guided them towards the source of the fire. They fought it, watching one another’s’ backs the whole time, annihilating the angry orange flames and debris. Flames licked the walls and threatened to go higher, but it seemed they’d got here early enough to avoid the structure being brought helplessly to the ground.

The heat inside the head gear and clothing made Owen feel as though his entire body had been dropped into an incinerator as they worked tirelessly until it was confirmed the fire had lost this particular battle. Owen and Gus made their way outside. It was a walk of mere metres but felt so much longer. When he reached fresh air, Owen ripped off all his gear, throwing away the helmet that felt so heavy, the flash hood that made the blood inside his head boil, the rubber straps that held his entire head in a tight grip and triggered the hyperventilating.

‘Whoa. Easy there, mate.’ It was Gus, armed with bottled water. ‘Breathe.’

Owen shut his eyes and felt the breath struggling to get in and out of his body until he took control, refusing to let panic get the better of him. Gus coped with BA a lot better than he did, but Owen knew his own reaction today wasn’t only because of the restrictive gear. It was because of his personal involvement. He looked anxiously towards the front entrance of Magnolia House where a paramedic was shutting the double doors at the back of the ambulance. The victim could so easily have been Rosie. The victim could so easily have been a lot worse had they not found her quickly.

His breathing threatened round two of hyperventilation.

‘You okay, mate?’ Gus rested a hand on his shoulder.

Owen steadied his breathing again. ‘Who was it? Who was in there?’

‘It was Tilly, the new head chef.’

The ambulance sirens whirred into action and the ambulance crunched its way over the gravel.

Owen bent over, his hands on his knees.

‘She’s going to be fine,’ Gus assured him. ‘We saved her and Magnolia House. All in a day’s work, eh? Now take this.’ He handed Owen a bottle of water. ‘Drink it, mate, keep your fluids up.’

Owen slumped down on the gravel, his legs unable to take the weight of the day, the smell of smoke lining his nostrils and blackened soot clinging to every part of him. Even with all the headgear, the smoke had still got into his eyes, and he shut them and squeezed the bridge of his nose as he tried to let go of the fear he’d had inside him the whole time he was fighting the structure fire. He was proud of his position with the CFA, but it was moments like this that threatened to undo him. The adrenalin surge, the sheer terror, the physical demands of the job and the unpredictability were the reasons why he thrived on being a firefighter, but some days it was harder than others.

Owen took the water from Gus and filled his mouth with the liquid, holding it in his cheeks before he swallowed. He tipped the second half of it over his head, blinking as dirt ran from his hair to his temple and into his eyes.

‘Tilly told the ambos there was a bain-marie on the stove,’ Gus explained, giving him a second bottle of water. ‘It was forgotten about and covered with a tea towel, of all the stupid things. It must’ve caught on the flame beneath.’ Gus looked up at Magnolia House. ‘It’d break my heart if that place got destroyed. I got hitched there.’

Owen smiled. ‘I hadn’t forgotten.’

‘I’ll bet you haven’t. I seem to remember you got pretty friendly with Sharni, the maid of honour.’ Gus chuckled, light relief from the day. ‘I heard on the grapevine you told her from the start that it was no strings attached.’

Owen, glad of the reprieve from thinking emergency-fire-rescue, said, ‘I lay my cards on the table. I don’t lead women on.’

‘Fair point,’ said Gus. ‘Speaking of women, I met your Rosie the other day.’

Owen ran a hand through wet and grimy hair, willing his voice to stay steady. ‘She’s not “my” Rosie. She’s house-sitting, that’s all, and was nice enough not to turf me out.’

‘Well, whatever she is to you, mate, she’s a lovely girl. She’s not bad to look at either.’ He winked. ‘See you at the pub tonight?’

‘You’re on.’

Owen climbed into the truck, and as the others dissected the fire call, he zoned out, well aware that where Rosie was concerned he was in deeper than he was prepared to admit.

*

When Owen walked through the doors of the pub in the early evening, Rosie smiled. She took in his freshly-shaven jaw, the plain white T-shirt and jeans, the waft of a linen-fresh shower gel.

‘Well done this afternoon,’ she said. ‘I heard all about it.’

‘Good news travels fast.’ He grinned across the room at Gus, who had been recounting the drama to as many people as he could find and looked as though he was still doing so judging by his hand gestures to bring his audience into the moment.