Remembering Rose (Mapleby Memories Book 1) Read online

  “Miss Acton copied it from a picture she saw in a fashion magazine,” she told Rose as she adjusted the hat to a becoming angle and then peered at her distorted reflection in the shiny surface of the copper pan hanging over the range. “She says white flowers are the latest thing for brides.”

  It was clear that Rose was impressed even though she tried hard not to show it. She screwed up her face into a frown as May twisted and twirled in front of her. “You’ll never be able to wear it again though will you, not once you’re a married woman, not if white is just for brides.”

  May gave her a withering glance. “Honestly Rose, you really are stupid at times. Of course I’ll be able to wear it again, I’ll just add some colored flowers and match them to whatever outfit I’m wearing.”

  Their mother, no doubt as used to deflecting an argument as Ma, picked up a brown paper parcel from beside her chair, untied the string that secured it, and shook out a length of pale blue organza. “Look what we bought for your sash, Rose.”

  “And I’m going to sew tiny blue flowers onto a ribbon for your hair,” May added. Her cheeks were pink with excitement and so, too, were Rose’s. She reached out and smoothed her fingers across the organza.

  I knew she was imagining how pretty she would look in her best dress on May’s wedding day. I wondered if Arthur was going to be invited and, while I was wondering, the kitchen flipped back to normal and I found myself sitting at my own table with Leah gurgling away happily on my lap.

  Chapter Twelve

  I thought about May’s wedding while I changed Leah’s nappy and by the time she was clean and dry I had decided to take her for an afternoon walk via the church. Although I rarely visited it nowadays, I had spent a lot of my childhood sitting on its dark wooden pews daydreaming instead of listening to the vicar’s endless sermons.

  Robbie shouted a greeting as I pushed Leah’s pram down the path and through the gate. I gave a half-hearted wave in return, my mind too full of May’s wedding day and Rose’s blue sash to be distracted by his lean torso for more than half a minute. Besides, Rebecca’s reaction to his very obvious masculine charms had convinced me I was just the latest in a long line of slightly bored housewives to fall for him, and that I needed to pull myself together before things went too far.

  I was still telling myself this when I reached the church. As was usual for mid afternoon on a Monday, it was empty. I hesitated in the porch, not sure whether I should unstrap Leah or just push the pram inside. While I was dithering, the heavy wooden door opened and I found myself face to face with the vicar. He solved my dilemma by holding it wide and then following me back inside. He had only been in the parish for a few months so I didn’t really know him.

  “It’s Rachel, isn’t it? You’re married to Daniel who runs the village shop.”

  I nodded, embarrassed, as I muttered that I still had to organize a date for Leah’s baptism.

  He smiled. “I’m sure you’ll get round to it soon. You can get me at the vicarage any day between four and six.”

  I gave him a startled look. “Any day?”

  He chuckled. “It’s sort of goes with the job, although my wife fights it from time to time.

  “Well, I’m with your wife,” I told him. “At least Daniel has Sunday’s free.”

  His eyes twinkled. “My busiest day, I’m afraid.”

  I laughed. “I suppose it is.”

  We looked at one another appraisingly, the vicar waiting to see if I needed his advice, and me hesitating to tell him why I was there. Eventually I took a deep breath and explained about Rose and May, and all the information I had found in the diaries.

  Long before I finished he began to usher me down the aisle. I dropped my voice to a whisper as my words began to echo around the empty church. Leah, her eyes wide as she stared up at the bright colors in the stained glass windows, remained uncharacteristically silent.

  He smiled at me. “You don’t have to worry about making a noise when there’s nobody else here, you know. The church is a joyous place. Look at how the sun is lighting up the altar, and how the air is heady with the scent of flowers overlaid with centuries of furniture polish, and tell me we have to be serious. You can’t, can you?”

  I shook my head. He was right although I’d never seen it before. This small church was the centerpiece of the village, a place where nearly everyone who lived in Mapleby was baptized, married and buried. It was where generations of children had learned their first lisping prayers and sung songs that involved a lot of clapping and hand gestures. It was where Rose had gone every Sunday wearing her best dress, and where she had probably got married too, just like Daniel and me. I wondered why I hadn’t thought about it before, why I hadn’t searched for her grave in the churchyard, or done what I was about to do now, and search through the parish records.

  The vicar’s smile grew wider as he led me through to the vestry. “My name is James by the way, James Carroll, and I’m delighted you agree with me. Now remind me again of your Great Aunt’s name.”

  “Great-great Aunt,” I corrected him. “And her name was May…um…er,” I ground to a halt as I searched back in my memory. Did I even know her surname? Then I remembered Rose’s first entry in her diary. “It was Petty,” I told him. “May Petty.”

  He nodded as he unearthed a heavy book from the depths of a dusty wooden chest and lifted it onto the vestry table. Within minutes he had found the right entry. We bent over it together, peering at the faded copperplate writing.

  May Agnes Petty, spinster and milliner, aged 23, and Archibald Edward Meads, bachelor and jeweler, aged 30, both resident in the parish of Mapleby, were married on this 20th day of April, 1887.

  The entry noted that Archie’s father was also a jeweler and that May’s father was an ostler. Seeing the puzzlement on my face, James Carroll explained that an ostler was someone who cared for horses.

  “That’s right, her father looked after the horses at the big house,” I agreed excitedly as I recalled exactly how Rose and May’s father had looked, right down to the cap he wore tilted rakishly on his head, and the red kerchief knotted at his throat.

  “Originally ostlers were the men who cared for the horses at coaching inns but the term changed through common usage until it came to mean anyone who looked after horses,” the vicar looked as thrilled as I felt.

  I hesitated. “Do you have time…that is, could we look for another entry, only this time I don’t know the year?”

  “Hmm, not so easy, but the parish was a lot smaller then so it probably won’t take very long. Can you whittle it down to say a five-year period?”

  I thought for a moment. Although Rose seemed to be at least five years younger than May she already had a beau who, by the time of May’s wedding must have almost finished his apprenticeship. Did this mean that Rose got married while she was still in her teens? I doubted it, given how protective her parents were, but she might have married Arthur as soon as she was twenty-one. I counted up the years in my head and gave him a range to work through. Then I unstrapped Leah from her pram and carried her slowly around the church, showing her all the pictures and letting her rub her plump little fingers on the carved figures while he searched through the register. I hurried back to the vestry when a shout of delight told me he had struck gold.

  He pointed to the first entry at the top of a page.

  Rose Eliza Petty, spinster, aged 21, and Arthur Randolph Davis, bachelor and cobbler, aged 24, both of the parish of Mapleby, were married this 18th day of August in the year 1891.

  No occupation was noted for Rose so she really had stayed at home and helped her mother until she married. I hoped it had turned her into better housewife than she had ever shown signs of being when she was younger. Arthur’s father was also listed as a cobbler and Rose’s father was an ostler, as before.

  I thanked James Carroll, even as I wondered what Rose had worn on her wedding day. Maybe May had loaned her a hat, or maybe she had been able to afford a new dress of her own
by then. Somehow I doubted it though. Still, at least I knew when she and Arthur had married, so now I could flick through the diaries until I found the correct date.

  Locking away the huge book in the parish chest, the vicar led me through the vestry and out of the church into the sunshine. We smiled at one another and I promised to call at the vicarage to fix a date for Leah’s baptism. Then, just as I was turning away, he spoilt it all.

  “Please thank Daniel for his donation to the church fete. I was going call into the shop and thank him myself, but if you would pass the message on I’d be very grateful.”

  “I will.” Donating stuff for the raffle that took place every year at the church fete was part and parcel of owning the village shop. It was expected of us, and in return we were allowed to run a stall where we sold the sweets and drinks that Daniel got discounted from the wholesaler. It was the next bit that took my breath away.

  “And what he’s doing…what you are both doing for Millie Carter is even more generous. Most people would have called the police when they caught her shoplifting, so to offer her a job instead was a truly Christian act. And when she told me she’s going to move into the rooms over the shop as soon as they have been decorated I felt as if I was witnessing a modern day miracle.”

  He obviously thought I knew everything there was to know about Millie Carter and that I was part of all those so-called Christian acts that were saving her from ruin. That would be because he had the sort of marriage where he and his wife told one another everything, of course. It obviously hadn’t occurred to him that someone as generous as Daniel would fail to mention the small matter of shoplifting to his wife, so he had no idea that he had just betrayed Millie, and Daniel too. I watched him walk away with my farewell smile still pasted on my face but it didn’t last. As soon as I turned for home I started scowling and I was still scowling when my generous husband arrived home for his evening meal.

  * * *

  “When were you going to tell me?” I raged as I slammed a plate of pasta down in front of him. Leah was already in bed and asleep. I’d made sure of that because I wanted to be able to shout and stamp without upsetting her.

  Picking up his fork, Daniel shook his head wearily. “When I thought you were ready to have a civilized conversation about it.”

  “Oh, so it’s my fault is it? I’m the uncivilized one, not Millie Carter the thief.”

  He put his fork down again and looked at me. “Come on Rachel, you’re better than that. You’ve known Millie forever so you know what sort of a life she’s had. Stealing a couple of cans of meat and a pack of tomatoes was an act of desperation, not the beginning of a slide into crime.”

  “How do you know that? Our shop might have been one of many. Her house might be stacked out with canned meat and tomatoes.” I knew how ridiculous I sounded but I couldn’t stop myself.

  “So if Leah was hungry and your larder was empty, you would just let her cry herself to sleep, would you?” Daniel’s tone should have stopped me in my tracks but I’m nothing if not consistent.

  “So that was her story, was it? She certainly knows how to play you, doesn’t she? Two hungry children, no job, nowhere to live…you always were a sucker Daniel, I just didn’t realize how big a sucker until now.”

  “Will you listen to yourself Rachel, and tell me you like what you hear,” his voice was tight with anger as he slammed his hands on the table and stood up, knocking his chair over in his hurry to put as much distance as possible between us. When he reached the door he turned and looked at me, and I suddenly saw myself through his eyes. It was too late to do a thing about it though so I let him go without another word.

  * * *

  I pretended to be asleep when Daniel eventually returned home around midnight. I doubt if my heavy breathing convinced him because ever since Leah was born I’ve woken up at the slightest sound. At least he didn’t speak though.

  He didn’t speak the following morning either, except to grunt a goodbye as he slammed the door behind him. It bothered me more than I was prepared to admit because Daniel never holds a grudge. I wondered if I ought to call at the shop and be nice to Millie, talk to her about her children or something. I was still mulling it over when a thought struck me. What if all this ‘let’s rescue poor Millie stuff’ was just a ruse, something she and Daniel had cooked up so they could spend time together without it looking suspicious? What if he was in love with her and preparing to move into the rooms over the shop himself when it was finished?

  I knew I was being irrational but the thought sent an icy shiver down my back. Millie Carter, despite her problems, was what was commonly known as a stunner. Even after two children her curves were all in the right place and her thick auburn hair hung hung to her waist when she shook out her trademark ponytail. She was pretty too, much prettier than me, with long hazel eyes under perfectly arched brows, a straight nose, and lips that always looked as if they were waiting to be kissed. In all conscience I couldn’t really blame Daniel if he fancied her, not after all I’d put him through in the past six months.

  I was still mulling this over when Robbie tapped on the kitchen door. Without thinking I pulled it open, forgetting I was still wearing pajamas. He backed away when he saw me.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was so early. I’ll come back later.”

  My eyes followed his gaze and I saw I had forgotten to refasten the top buttons when I finished giving Leah her morning feed. Flushing, I pulled it close. “No, it’s me. I’ve been up for hours; I just haven’t gotten around to getting dressed yet.”

  He held out a paper bag. “Iced buns as promised.”

  I took them. “Thank you. Give me five minutes to throw on some clothes and I’ll make coffee.”

  “Are you sure? You look harassed.”

  I gave a bitter laugh. “Harassed is only the half of it. Come on in and sit down because I’m fed up with my own company.”

  * * *

  By the time I had dressed, splashed cold water on my face, and finger combed my hair into some semblance of a style, Robbie had made two mugs of coffee and found a plate for the buns. I picked one up and started to lick the icing off with the tip of my tongue. When I saw Robbie watching me I decided to bite it instead.

  “A trouble shared is a trouble halved,” he said, his eyes serious as he regarded me across the rim of his coffee mug.

  I shook my head. I might be furious with Daniel but I wasn’t about to be disloyal to him. I could, however, ask Robbie about the shop. Maybe that way I’d get an insight into what was actually going on.

  “How’s the decorating?”

  He squinted at me and decided I wasn’t going to talk about anything else. “Fine. It’s mostly just white on white, so really easy to do. Apart from the bathroom it should be finished by the end of the week.”

  “So soon?” I’d had a satisfying if unrealistic vision of Millie Carter being homeless for months.

  He nodded and then started to talk about next door and how he had already taken the fence down. “I was careful with the horse-shoe though. If you like I’ll bring it round. I could even fix it to your fence as a feature if that’s what you want.”

  “Thank you, I’d love that.’ He had said exactly the right thing to make me forget about Daniel and Millie and laugh at all my silly suspicions, and when he saw how much it had cheered me up he offered to fetch it there and then.

  I was pouring a second cup of coffee for each of us when he returned and he smiled his thanks as he put the horse-shoe on the kitchen table. I ran my finger over its knobbly surface, pitted in places with rust. It was never going to be a thing of beauty but the history it invoked was priceless.

  “I’d love for you to fix it onto my fence.” I told him.

  “I can do better than that. If you’ll give me a day or two I can use the old fencing panel to fashion some sort of memorial plaque so you don’t lose the words and the little heart that was burnt into the wood.”

  For a moment I was speechless w
ith gratitude, then I opened the drawer where I kept Rose’s diaries and scrabbled beneath them for the envelope full of photos. Tipping them onto the table I sorted through until I found one of Rose. “That’s her,” I said. “She’s the girl who put up the horse-shoe, only she was much younger then. This photo was taken years later when she was a young woman.”

  He picked it up and studied it. “She looks like you.”

  “That’s what my Grandma says.”

  “You mean there’s still someone alive who knew her?”

  I nodded as I began to tidy the photos away. “Yes. The woman in this photo is my grandmother’s grandmother, which makes her my great-great-grandmother. She was still alive when my Grandma was born although by then she was a very old woman.”

  “And here she is again,” he picked up another photo of Rose, the one where she was making everyone laugh at some sort of party. “Who are these people?”

  I shrugged as I pointed at the man I now knew to be Arthur. “He’s her husband and I think little girl belongs to her. The rest must be friends.”

  “So are they at a wedding or is it a party, or a picnic?”

  I shook my head, surprised by his interest. “I’ve absolutely no idea. It’s fascinating though isn’t it? All those people laughing and enjoying themselves and we’ll never know what they said or why they were together.”

  He was still staring intently at the photo when I became aware that we were standing closer together than was strictly necessary and moved away. It broke the spell and moments later he left, promising to return with the horse-shoe mounted on a plaque as soon as he had time to make it.