‘Who is this man?’
‘He’s kind, good to me and I love him. And unlike you, he doesn’t think I’m ugly.’
‘I’ve never called you that.’
‘You’ve said “A face that could curdle milk”.’
‘I didn’t mean you were ugly. You are a pretty girl. I meant you looked sour . . . sad . . . sullen.’
Rose looked up at her mother, who appeared genuinely shocked that she had taken it that way.
‘I thought—’
‘You were wrong. I never meant that. If I’d known . . .’
Rose returned to her packing, although somehow it seemed harder to decide what to take.
‘Does this soldier have a house that is suitable for a family?’
Rose thought of Carrack House, with its sweeping staircase, large rooms, acres of gardens and the nursery she had yet to see.
‘Yes, but you are thinking too far ahead. He’s not asked me to marry him.’
‘But he will. I could see it written all over his face when he came calling. I saw him through the window when your father sent him away. I knew he would eventually take you away from me.’
Rose paused in her packing. ‘You can’t hold on to people . . . or things . . . forever. You’ve spent the last four years doing that and it has not made you any happier. Sometimes you have to let go.’
‘You are stronger than me. You are better at coping.’
Rose dropped the dress she was holding. ‘That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not stronger than you. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’ll always need you. I need you right now.’
‘How?’
‘I have to be with Nicholas. I love him, but you’re right, I still need to earn a living. Will you look after the shop for me? Just until Christmas Day and maybe a few days after, until things are back to normal.’ It was a big thing to ask of her mother, but somehow it made sense. Her mother had been rudderless, reclusive and had neglected to do the only thing she enjoyed doing . . . baking. If she felt able, baking cakes and running theshop again might be just what she needed. It would also be a weight off Rose’s mind. ‘Mother? Will you do it?’
Her mother thought for a moment.
‘This soldier, Nicholas, is he good to you?’
‘Yes, he is.’
‘Ivor Hicks saw you leaving in a car. He must come from a good family if he was able to send a fine lady and driver to fetch you.’
‘Yes, he’s from a good family. The fine lady is his mother.’
‘Is he good enough for my daughter?’
Rose smiled. ‘I think so.’
Her mother stroked a hand over her own hair in an attempt to tidy her appearance. ‘I suppose not much has changed in the kitchen.’
‘No, it is as you left it.’
‘Are there plenty of ingredients?’
‘Yes, I had a new delivery on Friday.’
Her mother picked up a dress. ‘You’d best take this. It’s warmer than the rest. If . . . Nicholas still has a fever you’ll want to keep his room cool. You’ll feel the cold sitting still by his side.’ She folded it and placed it in Rose’s bag. ‘I’m sorry I left your sister to look after you when you were ill with the flu. I wasn’t up to the task. It wasn’t long after Arthur was killed. I was afraid, you see. Afraid you were going to die too.’
