‘A messenger of peace and love.’
Nicholas passed it to her. It was beautiful and elegant.
‘It’s perfect,’ she murmured, turning it over in her hand. ‘Your sister is very lucky to have a brother like you.’
‘And who do you have?’
‘Me? I have my parents.’ She returned the brooch.
Nicholas asked for it to be wrapped. He bowed his head to look under the brim of her hat. ‘I sense that your parents are not the loving sort.’
‘They mean well.’
As Nicholas paid for the gift, Rose’s eyes were drawn to a tray of rings.
Nicholas came to stand next to her. He cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his greatcoat.
‘You must miss Sam very much.’
‘I did. I still do. I keep expecting him to walk through the door.’
‘Understandable when you have not had the chance to say goodbye.’
‘That’s what everybody says.’
Nicholas said no more until they had left the shop. Outside he caught the crook of her arm and turned her to face him. ‘You need to say goodbye to him, Rose. Sam is not coming back.’
‘You seem so sure.’
‘I am. It’s impossible.’
Someone jostled her from behind. Nicholas cursed at them as he placed a protective arm around her shoulder and guided her into the recess of a door.
‘Where did you and Sam like to walk?’
‘We walked everywhere.’
‘Was there a special place? A wood, or perhaps a view of the town?’
‘We’d sometimes walk up to Coronation Park and look down on the town.’
Nicholas took her hand. ‘Show me. Let’s go there now.’
Rose shook her head, unsure if she wanted to.
‘It will be your chance to talk to him. You can tell him how much you miss him . . . and then you can say goodbye.’
Rose resisted, despite his gentle tug. ‘I’m not sure I want to.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because . . . it will mean I have given up believing he will come home,’ replied Rose, lamely.
Nicholas wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. ‘I went to see my grandfather’s gravestone the other day. He died earlier this year.’ He waved away her concern. ‘We were not close, but it still gave me the opportunity to say goodbye. You have not had that. You need to say goodbye.’ He lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. ‘You say you are afraid of letting go, but you cannot let go of something you no longer have. Sam is gone, Rose. He is no longer here for you to hold on to.’ He drew her into his embrace. ‘But you will always have your memories of Sam. Those are yours and no one can take them away from you. No one should take them away from you.’
Rose felt the rise and fall of his chest against her palms as his warmth enveloped her. He was right, of course. Since the day Sam’s mother gave her the news, she had struggled to accept it, slowly drifting into a world that seemed darker than before. The anguish she felt at times overwhelmed her, but now she just felt numb. She went to work, she came home. She followed her routine and believed her life would never change. Each step was like walking through thick, wet sand, each glimpse of joy a guilty burden to bear, for Sam was not alive and she had no right to smile or laugh again. She had still clung to the hope that the nightmare would end and he would return. For a brief moment, in early December, she thought it had when Nicholas had entered her shop. Her heart had skipped a beat. She had thought he was Sam. He was right — she needed to say goodbye. She needed her pain to end. Rose slowly nodded. Nicholas slipped his hand into hers and led her away from the bustling crowd around them.
* * *
