Remembering Rose (Mapleby Memories Book 1) Read online

  Robert Parker! I was beyond speech when Daniel came into the room so I didn’t answer when he spoke to me. I didn’t even listen if the truth be told and that was what made him angry.

  “For goodness sake Rachel, how long is this going to go on? You agreed we should decorate the flat so Millie can use it, you even chose the new bathroom fitments, so why must you make it into such a big thing?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not that…it’s not about Millie…” but he had gone to have a shower, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

  I knew I should pack away the books, put my congealed plate in the sink to soak, and then go and explain that I was so far from worrying about Millie at this moment that she could serve in the shop stark naked and I wouldn’t care. I didn’t, though, because Rose won out and I was feverishly hunting for more references to Robert Parker when Daniel came back into the room and turned on the TV without so much as a glance in my direction.

  May and Archie are having a garden party and almost everyone in the village is going, even the children. Joyce is so excited and even little Molly wants to know what dress she’ll wear. It will be one of May’s cast-offs of course, as they are almost the only clothes the children own. Thank goodness her girls are older than mine otherwise I don’t think we would manage, not if we had to buy winter coats and bonnets as well as pretty dresses to wear to a garden party.

  Even I will have something new because May gave me a white blouse for my birthday. It has lace at the neck and the cuffs and it will look lovely with my grey skirt. She says it will all be very informal so I don’t need to wear a hat. I hope she has told everybody else that.

  I must admit I’m excited, and so is Arthur, because the garden party is in honor of Archie’s cousin who is visiting from India where he manages a tea plantation. It’s not often we have such exotic visitors in Mapleby, so we are looking forward to meeting him. At the moment the only thing anyone in the village is talking about is the garden party and this Mr Robert Parker.

  I re-read the entry and then tracked the dates forward. It took quite a while because she hadn’t said when the garden party would take place. I found it eventually though, and then my heart almost stopped.

  We had such a lovely time. The weather was gloriously sunny but with just the slightest breeze to prevent us from becoming too hot, and the food was marvelous. Not a penny was spared in an attempt to impress Mr. Parker although Arthur says we have to look at it from Archie’s point of view. He says that having a large house in Mapleby and a jeweler’s shop in town is nothing compared to managing a whole tea plantation, so he’s doing all he can to look more prosperous than he really is. I really don’t know why he’s bothering because he’s heaps richer than anyone else in Mapleby. Besides, Mr. Parker doesn’t strike me as someone who is impressed by anything unless he chooses to be. He is very handsome though. Tall and dark with the bluest eyes. Even May seems quite smitten and she is the least flirtatious person I know.

  There was more further on, a reference to a cricket match where Mr Parker agreed to make up the numbers for Archie’s team. The match seemed to be an annual event between the men in the village and Archie’s employees, and May always organized the food for afterwards.

  The village team won but, thanks to Robert, not by much. He made so many runs that at one point we all thought Archie’s team would win. Then Jim Oakley from the smithy ran him out and that was that. He was still the hero of the hour though because he saved Archie’s team from ignominy. I must say he looked very handsome in his cricketing whites. So dashing that I swear half the village girls are in love with him. He knows it of course; you can see it in the way his eyes twinkle.

  I noted that by now all formality had gone and Rose was referring to him as Robert. Then came another another entry, which I wouldn’t have been able to decipher if I didn’t already know Rose’s secret because by then she was writing in a way that hid what she was actually saying.

  Arthur has taken the children to see his mother. She hasn’t been the same since his father died so he hopes a visit will cheer her up. Joyce was so excited when they set off that I had to tell her to sit still in case she fell off the cart. Molly was a bit tearful because it is the first night she will ever have spent away from home, but when Arthur lifted her up beside him and said she could help him with the horse, her tears dried like magic. I should have gone too but when I said I had a headache Arthur agreed that a rest without the children would do me good. I filled a basket with some of last year’s apples that are still good even if they are a bit wrinkly, and picked a big bunch of herbs. I included a cake too. It means we will only have bread and jam for the rest of the week but the smile it brought to Arthur’s face was worth it, and it made me feel a bit less guilty.

  After I had waved them off and tidied the house, I dressed in my prettiest blouse and walked across the common to the beech wood. When I got there it was as if I had stepped out of time. The sweet perfume of the wild flowers, the murmuring of the insects, the cool green of the glade beneath the beech trees and the puff of cloud drifting across the patch of sky above our heads is something I’ll never forget even if I live to be one hundred.

  It was Rose’s only mistake, that little word our in the last sentence, but that and the words that followed made it quite clear to me that she and Robert Parker had arranged a tryst far away from prying eyes. She didn’t mention him by name but…well you can see for yourself…

  I think I went a little bit mad. To have a whole day to myself was such a luxury, and so was the picnic. There were pastries from May’s kitchen, and the peaches from Archie’s hot house were so ripe that the juice trickled down my chin to where the front of my blouse was undone and I was covered with a warm stickiness that smelled of sunshine. I forgot about time, forgot about Arthur and the children, forgot about all the things I needed to do, and just indulged all my senses.

  Until today I didn’t know what sun on naked skin felt like. I never imagined a pillow of moss could be so soft either. Lying there was like dying and going to heaven. I abandoned every convention I’ve ever known and just gave myself up to the moment, and it was delicious.

  Of course it came to an end, just as everything comes to an end, but I have the memory. My body has the memory. I will never forget the hardness and the softness, the smells, the murmurings that merged with the birdsong and the bees. I will always remember everything.

  The next few words were hidden beneath a blot of ink, which was so unlike Rose that all I could think was that someone had interrupted her until I looked closer and saw that it wasn’t a blot at all, but a tearstain. I traced it with my finger, feeling her pain. She knew her life had changed forever but she couldn’t explain why, not even in the privacy of her diary, in case someone picked it up and read it.

  I closed the notebook and put it at the bottom of the pile because I didn’t want anyone else to read it either. Rose’s secret was safe with me.

  * * *

  I didn’t sleep much that night. Lying beside Daniel and listening to him breathing I recalled the time we had lain in that very same wood, hidden from the world just like Rose and her lover. It might even have been the same glade and the same mossy bed

  Unable to wait until the following morning, I crept out of bed and tiptoed from the room. Daniel stirred and muttered in his sleep but he didn’t wake up, and if he did I knew he was too used to me getting up to see to Leah these days to wonder why my side of the bed was cold. I pushed away memories of the many nights we had slept entwined in each other’s arms and went into the kitchen.

  Rose was sitting there, her head on her arms, asleep at the table. Beside her was a half drunk glass of water and she was clutching a balled up handkerchief in one hand. Behind her the fire in the range was banked down for the night so the room was gloomy, with dark shadows in the corners. Clothes were drying on a rack hanging from the ceiling and there was a faint smell of stew, probably the remnants of an evening meal.

  I was puzzled. I k
new Rose had lived in the cottage as a little girl but what was she doing here now? Surely she and Arthur had a home of their own somewhere in the village, close to his uncle’s cobbler’s shop. While I was still wondering the door behind me opened and Rose’s mother came into the room. She was a lot older than when I had last seen her and her hair was snow white. I knew it was her though because she still looked like Ma. She sounded like her too.

  “Rose, lovey, what are you doing here? I thought you went home hours ago.”

  Raising her head, Rose rubbed her eyes and I was shocked to see how pale and tired she looked. “I can’t, Mama. I have to stay until…” she broke into sobs that racked her body.

  Her mother’s voice was gentle. “It might take days or even weeks, dearie. There’s no way of knowing how long.”

  “How can you be so calm about it? Doesn’t it make you angry that he is just lying there and we can’t do a thing to help him?”

  “Rose, Rose, you mustn’t upset yourself like this. It’s not your fault he had a heart attack when you were walking in the wood to clear your headache. Even if you had been here I doubt it would have made much difference.”

  “It would have. If I’d visited, like I said I was going to, then I could have helped you carry him to the bed. If I’d been here then you wouldn’t have had to leave him lying on the floor all alone while you went for the doctor,” Rose’s voice was thick with tears of self loathing.

  Her mother shook her head. “You really must stop this. The last thing Papa would want is that you make yourself ill over silly regrets. If you want to help him and me then you need to take care of yourself. You need to think of Arthur and the children too. How do you think they feel about their mother being out of the house all the time? Go home, lovey, and get some sleep, and then look after your own family. I’ll be fine, especially now Archie sends his groom over every day to check on us.”

  Reluctantly Rose pushed back her chair and stood up. She was the same height as her mother but much thinner. With a surge of shock, I noticed she had a few grey hairs at her temple. “I’ll only go if you promise to send someone if you need me.”

  “I promise.”

  “And you’ll let me know what the doctor says. When has Archie arranged for him to call?”

  “Tomorrow, although I don’t suppose he’ll say anything different from all the other times he’s called,” her mother was ushering her towards the door when there was a cry from the adjoining room. With one accord they turned and ran.

  I followed but all I found was my own bedroom with Daniel asleep on his back, snoring gently

  Shaken, I climbed back into bed. Rose’s beloved Papa was dying and Rose was so full of guilt that he’d been taken ill while she was with Robert Parker that she couldn’t think straight. How long ago had her father had his heart attack and had he been bed-ridden ever since? I searched around in my mind for clues and came up with the fact that she was pregnant but not enough for it to show, so this had all happened before I saw her in the garden with May. I gave such a heavy sigh that it disturbed Daniel enough to make him turn over and mumble in his sleep. This time travel was beginning to get to me. Not only did I never know when I was going to see Rose, but now her visitations were out of sequence too. For the first time I wondered whether I really should have confided in the vicar so he could visit the cottage and tell her to go away, or did vicars only do that for evil spirits? I sighed again. There was nothing evil about Rose but right at that moment I fervently wished she had never come into my life.

  * * *

  Daniel and I were just about on speaking terms the following morning. He even ruffled my hair and said he would be home early so to be sure to keep Leah up to see him.

  Leah and I waved to him as he drove away and then I forced myself forget Rose and concentrate on my chores until coffee time. Robbie arrived earlier than usual, bringing cakes and a whole lot of information about his great-great-grandfather.

  Helping himself to two plates from the cupboard, he placed a cream éclair on each of them and then propped himself against the table. I handed him a mug of coffee and waited. He could barely contain himself.

  “My great-great-grandfather was a Robert Parker too, the same as me. Mom emailed me a copy of his letter last night. Look, I’ve got it here.” He held out his cell phone.

  I took it and scrolled through the text. By now I was used to the copperplate style of writing that was common when Rose was young, so it didn’t take me long to read it. It was from Archie. Robbie watched me, his mouth full of éclair.

  Dear Robert

  Thank you for your letter. I am so pleased you enjoyed your visit to Mapleby. We certainly loved having you here. The lads in the village are still talking about your success on the cricket pitch and you are young Oliver’s hero, something unlikely to change in the near future as I’m afraid I’m a dull old stick compared to you.

  You asked me to pass on your good wishes to Rose and May and I have done so. Sadly their father passed away recently. I was able to send my own doctor to attend him and he diagnosed heart failure, probably the result of a bout of rheumatic fever he suffered as a child. His lingering has been distressing for all of us but especially for Rose who has always shared a special rapport with him. His death left her distraught, so much so that May has insisted she and the children stay with us for a while and it seems to be doing the trick. She is smiling again thank goodness, although that could be because she is expecting another child. Both she and Arthur are hoping for a boy this time.

  May, as usual, copes with everything. She has also persuaded her mother to spend a few days with us before Rose needs her for her lying in. Once we are sure the baby has arrived safely I am going to take May and the children to the seaside for a few days. I will have some business to attend to while we are there but I daresay they will find plenty to do.

  I’m glad you had a safe trip back to India old boy, and that the plantation hadn’t suffered too much during your absence. Give my best wishes to that young woman you told me about, and tell her she will be most welcome here at Riverside House when you next return to England, by which time you’ll be an old married man. The village girls will be so disappointed to find you no longer a bachelor, and so, I think, will May and Rose.

  Ever your affectionate cousin

  Archie

  Was Oliver Archie’s son, and who was the young lady waiting in India for Robert, and did Rose know about her? And would she have cared if she did? There were so many things I wanted to ask but all I managed was, “Where did you mother find the letter?”

  “She didn’t. One of my cousins found it in some old family papers and sent it to her. She wants me to try to find out who wrote it but it won’t be easy because there isn’t a surname. Maybe if I ask around someone will remember who lived at a place called Riverside House all those years ago.”

  I had to tell him before he found out. “Archie was married to my Great-Great-Aunt May, and the Rose he refers to is my Great-Great-Grandmother.”

  “You mean the one who nailed the horseshoe to the fence when she was a little girl?”

  I nodded. “Yes. May was her sister and she married into money which is why she lived at Riverside House, which was the grand building that was pulled down so the nursing home could be built.”

  He stared at me. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. It’s all in Rose’s diaries,” I lied.

  “So your family knew my great-great-grandfather all those years ago and now here we are. My mother will be thrilled when I tell her.” Suddenly a thought struck him. “Is there any chance she could have a look at those diaries, or rather the bits that are about my grandfather’s visit?”

  “Of course, but she’ll have to wait a bit because they are with my Grandma at the moment,” I said, glad I had tidied them all into a drawer the previous night.” There was no way I was letting anyone look at those diaries because if they did they would wonder how I knew so much more than the things that were actually
written in them.

  Biting into my éclair I deflected his interest away from Rose by asking him what he knew about his great-great-grandfather, Robert Parker. He shrugged.

  “I don’t know much, only that he managed a tea plantation in India. I think he must have been quite young when he died because apparently my great-great-grandmother and their children came back to England alone, and she married again quite soon afterwards. I think she had three more girls after that.”

  “How many children did she have with Robert Parker?”

  “Two or three, I’m not sure, but one of them must have been a boy because the name was handed down. There’s been a Robert in every generation of the Parker family for years and years, sometimes more that one.”

  “You mean you have a cousin called Robert?”

  He grinned at me. “No, I have a cousin Bob and a cousin Bobby.”

  I laughed. “And I thought my family was weird. Bob, Bobby and Robbie. Why don’t any of you use Robert?”

  “Because that would be my Dad.”

  I was really laughing now and that was the exact moment that Daniel walked in. He frowned when he saw the empty plates and mugs, and registered the amusement on our faces.

  “What are you doing here?” I should have been worried because he never comes home in the middle of the day, but because we were barely back on speaking terms I was too busy feeling resentful to think about anybody else but me.

  He gave Robbie a curt nod as he answered. “Your Grandma collapsed this morning. She’s in hospital now and your mother is with her but she keeps asking for you. I’ve come to take you to see her.”