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‘It’s my turn now, Rosie,’ she whispered.
‘What? What do you mean?’
‘Look, Rosie. I’m not completely useless, you know. You just think I am and so you treat me as though I am.’
‘I…’
‘When Mom died, you did everything for me, Rosie, and I love you for that. But not only did I lose my mom, I lost my big sister, too. Maybe when I was a child I needed you to braid my hair and get me to school on time, but when I got to be a teenager, well, what I really needed was a big sister, a friend and a confidante, not a babysitter. You’d just got into the habit of running my life for me. I needed to make my own mistakes and learn from them, no matter how hard the lesson, how far I fell. But whatever I did, you were always there to put things right and smooth over the cracks, so I didn’t have to. I want my big sister back!’
‘But…’
‘No buts this time, Rosie. Dad needs someone to help with the store and that someone is going to be me. I’m a big girl now. Let me step up and do this for him. Let me show you both I can be here for you, I can do it! Plus, Jacob is buying a house out there for us. I love him, Rosie. With all my heart and soul. It just took me a little longer to realise it. No more excessive partying for me from now on. In fact, no partying at all.’
‘Oh, Hannah, you have no idea how happy I am for you.’ Relief at the news her sister had at last matured into an adult sent waves of joy through Rosie’s veins.
‘It’s time for you to start concentrating on your own happiness. Though from what I can see you are already doing that. Something, or should I say, someone has been having an effect on you. You’re glowing! Look at you; your skin is tanned, your cheeks are rosy, and it’s the first time I’ve seen you smile as a go-to expression. But it’s what’s going on inside that’s given you that halo of radiance that just can’t be manufactured. Are you in love too?’
Rosie felt warmth seep into her features. Hannah saw it and leapt from her seat to envelop her sister in a fragrant embrace. ‘I knew it! Who is it? What’s he like? Where is he?’
‘Well, you probably wouldn’t believe me, but there are two…’
‘Oh my God! Jacob, get in here! Rosie can’t decide between two guys. Can you believe it? All these years crossing the desert of love and two are hanging around the oasis waiting for her decision! Rosie, please, this time will you trust your heart to tell your head what to do? Not the other way round?’
Jacob sent Hannah a look of such adoration that Rosie had to fight back her emotions once again. But he was also astute enough to notice Rosie’s discomfort at having her indecision thrust into the open.
‘When is Willowbrook Lodge due to be sold?’ Jacob asked in an attempt to change the subject back to a more mundane level after the highly charged emotional exchanges.
‘Oh, Rosie, are you sure you still want to sell it? Wouldn’t Aunt Bernie want you to keep it?’
Rosie saw Hannah flash a look to Susan and realised they must have had a lengthy heart-to-heart before the phone call was made to the cottage. But her sister was right. Bernice had wanted her to keep the lodge. And now it was wearing its glamorous autumn coat, how could she bear to part with it? She glanced at her watch. It was three p.m. Would Angus and the buyer still be there?
‘You are absolutely right, Hannah. Aunt Bernice would want the lodge to stay in the family. I need to go. Will you wait for me here? There’s something I have to do.’
‘Sure.’ A slow smile appeared on Hannah’s pink frosted lips as she laced her fingers through Jacob’s and they exchanged a wink.
Chapter Twenty Eight
Rosie rushed from the tearoom into the street outside. Halloween was approaching and whilst Somersby did not embrace the festival to the extreme that New Yorkers did, the event’s imminence was apparent in the gardens she passed on her dash back to Willowbrook Lodge.
She loved the fruit-laden fall: the mellow veils of mist, the russet orange and amber-tinged leaves floating down like confetti to produce Mother Nature’s autumnal carpet, the ballooning pumpkins and the anticipated spice of pumpkin pie. In the distance she caught a glimpse of the familiar Welcome to Somersby Village sign, and she was surprised to experience a warm feeling of homecoming, of belonging.
She pushed open the cottage’s picket gate, and her ears pricked up when she caught a snippet of voices floating on the wisp of a breeze. She knew it would be Angus. Relief surged through her as she sent up a fervent ‘thank you’ that she had arrived in the nick of time as Brian Dixon undertook his final inspection of the property.
With her breath creating vaporous spirals in the cold air, Rosie experienced a frisson of excited anticipation of seeing Angus again. She imagined his surprise when he saw her approach whilst he talked business beneath the skeletal canopy of the cherry tree, knowing he expected her to be gossiping over a pot of tea with her wayward sister.
She decided she would offer to buy him dinner atBistro Angéliqueas compensation for the lost sale, a token of her appreciation of his patience and the hard work he’d put in, and as a celebratory finale to the completion of their business relationship and, maybe, the start of a more personal one.
The men’s voices were audible now as she walked towards the summerhouse, freshly glazed with peppermint and cream paint, behind which their conversation was taking place.
‘... rip it all up?’
‘Silly cow, and she didn’t realise a thing? So much for the future of corporate America ifalltheir executives are as naïve as Rosie Hamilton,’ a broad Gloucestershire accent pronounced.
Rosie froze in her path.
‘She probably will never know, anyway.’ Angus’s dulcet English tones assured Brian Dixon. ‘She’ll be ensconced in her life in the “city that never sleeps”. Her sister has paid her visit, probably to persuade her to go back home with her. Marvellous timing, if you ask me. I’ll cover our tracks, don’t worry. She trusts me. All the paperwork is in order, ready to exchange with your solicitor on your say-so when I get back to the office.’
‘Fantastic job, Angus, my friend. Go right ahead. I’ve just had the nod from my planning officer friend at the County Council that my planning application will be sympathetically considered, subject to one or two minor amendments to the drawings, for the erection of six retirement apartments. You’ve done a great job holding her off for so long and thwarting all the interest from other purchasers. And she never realised a thing, you say? Gorgeous little chocolate-box cottage like this? Like bees to nectar are potential buyers round here!’
