They’d had tea in the lounge and Lucinda had been her usual imperious self but everything was fine, Rosie showing Patrick off, talking about his work, explaining that they were going to be long-distance.
‘I’m going over and he’s coming home. And we’ll do that for a while and then see.’ She must have seemed hopelessly naive. Lucinda had taken it all in and then she had pounced.
‘I don’t think he’s the one for you,’ said Lucinda. ‘He’s from farming stock…’
‘Yes… isn’t that a lovely thing to be?’
Lucinda looked at her, almost sadly. ‘You poor thing. How little you know of the world.’
It was perhaps true, thought Rosie. But she wasn’t sure Lucinda knew that much about the world either.
‘Benji has been asking about you,’ said Lucinda. ‘You know their family is very wealthy, don’t you? He’s really very keen. His mother was telling me.’
‘He’s definitely not interested in me,’ said Rosie. ‘And I’m not interested in him. I like Patrick.’
‘Money, Rosie. Are you a fool? How do you think the hotel is going to survive without money? It’s a money pit, always was. I said to Sarah, my dear, departed sister, that it was going to drain her of everything she had and I was right. Your choice is to run it and be drained by it or marry well.’
‘I will run it and not be drained by it,’ said Rosie, and then they both stopped talking because Patrick was returning, a big smile on his face. And now Rosie realised Lucinda had spoken to him and warned him off because it was the next day that he announced there would be no long-distance and that the two of them were over.
‘Who knows about you and Patrick?’ asked Grace, now. ‘Does Nessa?’
Rosie shook her head. ‘I never told her. It was that summer she was working in Spain. Lucinda knows, Bertie met him when I was on my placement. And that’s it. I was going to introduce him to Dad when I brought him to Cliff Top that day, but he wasn’t here. And then it was all over and so I didn’t tell anyone. There was no point.’
Grace looked at her sympathetically. ‘You should have told us, your friends.’
‘I know.’
‘I mean, that summer… what was I doing? I was in Antibes, working on those mega yachts, being a skivvy. God, what a summer. I couldn’t touch rosé for years later. Almost put me off French men.’ She paused. ‘Almost. Now, what are you going to do?’
‘Nothing. What can I do? It didn’t work out. He left for Boston. I came back to Sandycove. I’m stuck here, in my rut. He’s living his glamorous and successful life over there. And you’ve said yourself that he’s fighting them off. Kate for one…’
Grace rolled her eyes.
‘And this American woman who’s coming. I think it might be Kerry-Anne Daly. She’s his business mentor. Perhaps they are in a relationship.’ She felt sick at the thought. But he had every right to be in another relationship. She still wasn’t about to leave and go to Boston, she still had the hotel. Nothing had changed.
‘I bet she’s gorgeous. Toned arms. Glossy hair. Super confident. Teeth. Money.’
‘That’s helpful.’
‘Sorry. You’re gorgeous too, didn’t I say?’
‘You said, ruddy.’
‘Ruddy is a good thing to be. And I bet this American woman is not a patch on you.’ Grace smiled at her.
‘I’ve just got to get through to the end of the wedding, wave them all off and get on with my life again.’
‘And you’re sure you don’t want anything with Patrick? And by anything, I mean anything at all, from furtively passionate last tango in Sandycove to happy ever after, skipping into the end credits?’
‘How can I? It’s the long-distant past, that’s all. It’s just brought a lot of things to the surface.’ But she wasn’t ready to admit to Grace how seeing Patrick again had brought to the surface how small her life was and that she was beginning to panic that this was her life forever and nothing would change or get bigger simply because she was scared.
Grace surveyed her for a moment. ‘I get it,’ she said. ‘We need to look back in order to go forwards. I think your subconscious is bubbling away and who knows what your next move is going to be?’ Her phone beeped and she glanced at it. ‘Talking of Prince Charming and happy endings and all that… Martin’s here.’ She gave Rosie a special look. ‘He’s come to fix the tap in the garage. Come on, let’s go and see him.’ She paused. ‘Even though, I know you’re in love with another man…’
‘I’m not!’
‘Keep your options open, that’s all. Especially as the other man lives in another fecking continent!’
Grace was right, she had to be realistic. Rosie was in danger of allowing herself to start feeling connected to him again, imagining that there was a bond, when in fact everything they had was gone, over, dead and buried. All that was left was a memory, a fragment… something which lingered. If only it didn’t linger, if only she had forgotten it all, if only it hadn’t all come back to her, it would be easier.
