‘Where on earth have you been?’ Julie asked, when Rosie reappeared in her room. ‘I was starting to wonder whether you’d run off to Gretna Green with a handsome doctor. Chance would be a fine thing, eh?’
Rosie emitted a high-pitched, nervous laugh. ‘Ha ha ha, yeah – imagine being proposed to in a hospital corridor.’
‘You’d probably say no anyway, wouldn’t you? Right now I can’t say I blame you. Spending your life trying to catch a man, then looking after a man … It has its drawbacks. One of the doctors came to see me earlier – said I’ve got to slow down, reduce my blood pressure. That I can’t run around doing every last little thing for your father and Michael like I always have.’
‘I think that’s good advice, Mum,’ Rosie said, sitting down in the chair next to her bed.
‘I’m probably going to get out of here tomorrow morning,’ Julie said, ‘and when I go home, you’re to go back to London. Back to your life. My husband and son can look after me for a while – it’ll do them good.’
‘I agree.’
‘Also,’ Julie shifted in the bed, turning to face her daughter. ‘Being in here – having this scare … It’s given me time to think. Rosie, I want to say I’m sorry. Over the years I’ve given you a hard time – been judgemental. I haven’t always been supportive, or even loving. I haven’t always been the mum that you deserve.’
‘Mum,’ Rosie said, emotion stinging the back of her throat. ‘Please don’t upset yourself. You don’t have to apologise for anything.’
‘I do,’ Julie said softly. ‘My own mother raised me to be a useful ornament – never to know my own mind or follow my own path. I was to take care of my family, keep a spotless house, stay attractive and never complain. I thought it made sense to raise you the same way, but I was wrong. You’re your own woman: strong and clever and beautiful, all in your own way. I’m proud of you. I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt it.’
Sobbing, Rosie stood and took her mother in her arms.
‘It’s OK, Mum, it’s all OK.’ And it was.
As they dried their eyes, Colin and Michael returned from their latest walk to the vending machine.
‘Everything all right, girls?’ Michael asked. ‘Why are you both all weepy? George Clooney hasn’t died, has he?’
‘Of course not,’ Julie snapped. ‘We’re fine. And Michael’ – she waved at what must have been his ninth packet of crisps that weekend – ‘you want to lay off the junk food. Start taking after Rosie here. Learn to cook from scratch.’
Chapter 27
When Rosie arrived back at the flat the following week, she knew immediately that something was wrong. There was no sign of life apart from Springsteen, who was lolling happily in his favourite chair. No laundry was drying on the heated rack near the back door; no coffee smell lingered in the kitchen; no mugs or plates were stacked in the dishwasher.
For the first time in a long time, Aled’s bedroom door was closed. She knocked, fully expecting to get no response. After a moment, she opened it.
The bed they’d slept in together, curled into one another like two speech marks, was neatly made. His furniture was still in place, but there were too many things missing: books, postcards, the guitar she still hadn’t heard him play … the framed photo of him, Tiegan and Gethin. Her stomach turned over, and a cool sweat began beading between her shoulder blades.
All night, Rosie waited and hoped he’d come back.
When he didn’t, she went to bed in her own room, only falling asleep when the exhaustion of the past few days finally pulled her under. She dreamed of his hands, of his voice in her ear and his lips on her throat.
When she awoke alone, still in darkness, she cried.
‘What are you doing here?’ Rhianne demanded when Rosie turned up for work the next morning. ‘I had it all sorted: Yaz was going to cover for you again.’
‘It’s fine, I messaged her last night,’ Rosie said. ‘I’m back now, Mum’s doing OK and I knew I’d go out of my mind with boredom stuck at home on my own.’
‘Are you sure you’re up for this? You don’t want to catch up on some sleep or watch three different versions ofPride & Prejudiceback to back?’
‘I really don’t,’ Rosie said honestly. Anything book- or romance-related would only make her think about Aled. She’d spent half the night going over what had happened between them, and she still had no idea where he was or why he’d gone.
Yes, they’d argued – and yes, she’d left in a hurry on Saturday afternoon. But had that single argument really torpedoed every hope for a reconciliation? Had it been enough to blow up everything that was good between them?
Rosie kept thinking about what he’d said right before Michael called:You haven’t let me explain properly. There’s still stuff you don’t know. And now that she thought about it, there had been moments where Aled had seemed nervous – like he was teetering on the cusp of saying something scary and significant. Something had always interrupted them, claiming her attention or robbing him of his nerve. And hehadresisted the pull between them: she thought about roller skating, Bonfire Night, Cora and Ed’s wedding reception … He could have kissed her any time he chose, but he’d been reluctant to do so dishonestly – or at the risk of being anything less than the person she really, truly wanted.
Rather inconveniently, since she appeared to have lost him both literally and figuratively, he waspreciselythe person she wanted: now, and probably forever. She’d come to work today not only for the sake of escaping the emptiness of the flat – she needed to talk to Rhianne about what was happening.
If anyone knew where Aled had ended up, it would be his cousin and closest friend. Depending on when he’d left, Rosie also knew that Rhianne would have been drafted in to feed and fuss Springsteen while they were both away. There was no way he’d have asked local cat loather Mrs Beaumont to look in on him, even though she only lived next door.
After a busy breakfast time, however, it was Tobi that Rosie found herself face to face with. She was also on shift all day, looking as happy and confident as Rosie had ever seen her.
