Christmas at Rosie Hopkins’ Sweetshop
Page 39
‘Okay,’ she said, loading them into the big car and fastening seat belts. ‘But not you, Mum,’ she added. ‘You’re coming with me.’
On the way back to Lipton they talked about everything and everyone under the sun: about Pip’s job, and Lilian, and the shop. Angie asked about Rosie’s young man and Rosie coughed out an answer that didn’t really seem satisfactory, but for once her mum was probably too jet-lagged to question it.
The long arched avenue leading to Peak House seemed even more sinister today, icicles dripping down from the branches of the trees.
‘I hope it’s okay,’ said Rosie, who’d driven up and put the Aga on that morning. ‘I mean, it’s… it’s pretty desolate, but well, honestly, it’s not far to the village, and you’ll be with us and we’ll do stuff together and —’
‘Stop worrying, Rosebud,’ said Angie. ‘You found us a whole house, good on you. I’m completely amazed.’
Rosie wondered about this, but when the two cars stopped on the gravel and the others emerged, she was shocked to see everyone looking so excited and happy.
‘OH. MY. GOD. Look at this place,’ said Desleigh. ‘It’s like Downton Bloody Abbey. Have you got servants?’
Rosie looked at Peak House again. She was so used to thinking of it as an ominous, forbidding place that she forgot the nice stone and good proportions; how it looked like the great house that it was.
‘We’re going to be living in a castle,’ said Shane in awe. ‘Auntie Rosie, this is seriously cool.’
‘Um, let’s just wait till we get inside,’ said Rosie.
But inside, the radiators were working, finally, and the Aga had done its job and the house seemed to have dried out a little and it felt cosy and almost cheerful.
‘It’s like a Christmas card,’ said Pip. He whistled. ‘I think we’ve both fallen on our feet, sis.’
She showed him upstairs and they sat companionably on the bed together like they always used to.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ said Rosie. ‘The children are just adorable.’
Pip beamed.
‘Oh, they are, Rosie. And Desleigh is so good to me and, well, Australia’s just fantastic. You know, Mum always says the only thing missing is you.’
Rosie smiled.
‘But you’re happy here?’ He said it in the Australian way so she wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement.
‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘Totally. Completely. All the time.’ She tried not to think about the image of Stephen the previous night, staring out of the window. ‘Completely happy,’ she added, then realised as Pip stared at her that she might have gone into overkill mode a little bit.
‘I never saw you in a village,’ said Pip. ‘I always saw you as a big-city girl. You’d love Sydney. Plus nurses there make sixty thousand a year.’
Rosie coughed a lot at this – a LOT – and headed back downstairs, where she made tea and toast for everyone. Kelly sat by the window exclaiming at the snow and Shane boasted about the size of the snowman he was going to build and the big snowball fight they were going to have, but she could see their eyelids drooping. Angie insisted they needed the afternoon and a good night’s sleep to get their heads straight – nobody had slept much on the plane, apparently. Shane had watched Transformers seventeen times in a row until they thought he was going to have an epileptic fit, Kelly had rattled on constantly about the snow, which was leaving her totally awestruck, and Meridian had eaten four breakfasts. Everyone was wilting.
‘I’ll be up in the morning,’ promised Rosie, feeling so much better about everything that she practically skipped out to the Land Rover.
She relieved Tina and did the last few hours in the shop, then cashed up, keeping an ear open for Stephen coming in at four. She heard the door to the cottage open, but he didn’t pop in to the shop as he normally did. Well.
At five, she locked the door and went home. Stephen asked after her family, politely but, she thought, with a bit of reticence. She hoped he wasn’t worried about meeting Angie. Not all mothers were as scary as his.
As she went to turn on the grill, she saw that, amazingly, her phone was connected. She wondered if Roy Blaine had stuck up a sneaky pole on his land. She wouldn’t put it past him. She had a message. Please not anything up at Peak House, please, she prayed. The boiler exploding. That would be all they needed.
She could hardly hear the voice on the message for sobs. Then she understood, and was completely and utterly touched that she had thought to ring. She marched into the sitting room, and stood in front of Stephen.
‘What is it?’ he asked, instantly panicked by the tears in her eyes. He got carefully out of his seat and went to her. ‘What?’
Rosie put the phone down.
‘Edison woke up,’ she said. ‘He woke up and… the first thing he asked was for any homework he’d missed.’
Stephen blinked quickly, trying to shake the image of the crash away; not to let it overwhelm him. He choked up and took Rosie in his arms, her tears soaking his jumper.
‘Thank God,’ he said. Rosie couldn’t speak at all. ‘Thank God,’ said Stephen again. They had both known that beyond whether Edison’s neck would heal was the question: would he still be himself, or had he suffered brain damage in the accident? To have to raise a child who could no longer think, wash themselves, go to school… Hester and Arthur would have loved him just the same, of course, but what a terrible burden of worry would have been added to their lives.
‘That’s amazing,’ said Stephen at last. ‘Oh God, I can’t wait till he’s back in my class. Asking me what wiped out the fricking dinosaurs again.’
He wiped his eyes. Rosie was still choked up.
‘You love that kid,’ he said, teasing her.
‘I do,’ she said. ‘Oh, thank God. Plus I think he’s single-handedly kept the Edinburgh rock factory in business.’
Stephen smiled and gave her another cuddle.
‘So, everyone is settled in?’
Rosie nodded.
‘Yes, they’re fine. Actually, it’s wonderful to see them.’
‘You miss your mum,’ Stephen said. ‘I’ve heard you on the phone. For months on end.’
‘I do,’ she agreed. ‘How was school?’
On the way back to Lipton they talked about everything and everyone under the sun: about Pip’s job, and Lilian, and the shop. Angie asked about Rosie’s young man and Rosie coughed out an answer that didn’t really seem satisfactory, but for once her mum was probably too jet-lagged to question it.
The long arched avenue leading to Peak House seemed even more sinister today, icicles dripping down from the branches of the trees.
‘I hope it’s okay,’ said Rosie, who’d driven up and put the Aga on that morning. ‘I mean, it’s… it’s pretty desolate, but well, honestly, it’s not far to the village, and you’ll be with us and we’ll do stuff together and —’
‘Stop worrying, Rosebud,’ said Angie. ‘You found us a whole house, good on you. I’m completely amazed.’
Rosie wondered about this, but when the two cars stopped on the gravel and the others emerged, she was shocked to see everyone looking so excited and happy.
‘OH. MY. GOD. Look at this place,’ said Desleigh. ‘It’s like Downton Bloody Abbey. Have you got servants?’
Rosie looked at Peak House again. She was so used to thinking of it as an ominous, forbidding place that she forgot the nice stone and good proportions; how it looked like the great house that it was.
‘We’re going to be living in a castle,’ said Shane in awe. ‘Auntie Rosie, this is seriously cool.’
‘Um, let’s just wait till we get inside,’ said Rosie.
But inside, the radiators were working, finally, and the Aga had done its job and the house seemed to have dried out a little and it felt cosy and almost cheerful.
‘It’s like a Christmas card,’ said Pip. He whistled. ‘I think we’ve both fallen on our feet, sis.’
She showed him upstairs and they sat companionably on the bed together like they always used to.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ said Rosie. ‘The children are just adorable.’
Pip beamed.
‘Oh, they are, Rosie. And Desleigh is so good to me and, well, Australia’s just fantastic. You know, Mum always says the only thing missing is you.’
Rosie smiled.
‘But you’re happy here?’ He said it in the Australian way so she wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement.
‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘Totally. Completely. All the time.’ She tried not to think about the image of Stephen the previous night, staring out of the window. ‘Completely happy,’ she added, then realised as Pip stared at her that she might have gone into overkill mode a little bit.
‘I never saw you in a village,’ said Pip. ‘I always saw you as a big-city girl. You’d love Sydney. Plus nurses there make sixty thousand a year.’
Rosie coughed a lot at this – a LOT – and headed back downstairs, where she made tea and toast for everyone. Kelly sat by the window exclaiming at the snow and Shane boasted about the size of the snowman he was going to build and the big snowball fight they were going to have, but she could see their eyelids drooping. Angie insisted they needed the afternoon and a good night’s sleep to get their heads straight – nobody had slept much on the plane, apparently. Shane had watched Transformers seventeen times in a row until they thought he was going to have an epileptic fit, Kelly had rattled on constantly about the snow, which was leaving her totally awestruck, and Meridian had eaten four breakfasts. Everyone was wilting.
‘I’ll be up in the morning,’ promised Rosie, feeling so much better about everything that she practically skipped out to the Land Rover.
She relieved Tina and did the last few hours in the shop, then cashed up, keeping an ear open for Stephen coming in at four. She heard the door to the cottage open, but he didn’t pop in to the shop as he normally did. Well.
At five, she locked the door and went home. Stephen asked after her family, politely but, she thought, with a bit of reticence. She hoped he wasn’t worried about meeting Angie. Not all mothers were as scary as his.
As she went to turn on the grill, she saw that, amazingly, her phone was connected. She wondered if Roy Blaine had stuck up a sneaky pole on his land. She wouldn’t put it past him. She had a message. Please not anything up at Peak House, please, she prayed. The boiler exploding. That would be all they needed.
She could hardly hear the voice on the message for sobs. Then she understood, and was completely and utterly touched that she had thought to ring. She marched into the sitting room, and stood in front of Stephen.
‘What is it?’ he asked, instantly panicked by the tears in her eyes. He got carefully out of his seat and went to her. ‘What?’
Rosie put the phone down.
‘Edison woke up,’ she said. ‘He woke up and… the first thing he asked was for any homework he’d missed.’
Stephen blinked quickly, trying to shake the image of the crash away; not to let it overwhelm him. He choked up and took Rosie in his arms, her tears soaking his jumper.
‘Thank God,’ he said. Rosie couldn’t speak at all. ‘Thank God,’ said Stephen again. They had both known that beyond whether Edison’s neck would heal was the question: would he still be himself, or had he suffered brain damage in the accident? To have to raise a child who could no longer think, wash themselves, go to school… Hester and Arthur would have loved him just the same, of course, but what a terrible burden of worry would have been added to their lives.
‘That’s amazing,’ said Stephen at last. ‘Oh God, I can’t wait till he’s back in my class. Asking me what wiped out the fricking dinosaurs again.’
He wiped his eyes. Rosie was still choked up.
‘You love that kid,’ he said, teasing her.
‘I do,’ she said. ‘Oh, thank God. Plus I think he’s single-handedly kept the Edinburgh rock factory in business.’
Stephen smiled and gave her another cuddle.
‘So, everyone is settled in?’
Rosie nodded.
‘Yes, they’re fine. Actually, it’s wonderful to see them.’
‘You miss your mum,’ Stephen said. ‘I’ve heard you on the phone. For months on end.’
‘I do,’ she agreed. ‘How was school?’
