Emma feels a warm wave of gratitude. ‘I can’t believe how helpful everyone is being.’
‘Myself, I am not surprised,’ Roberto replies.
‘Really?’
‘No– not at all. In my experience, if you ask people for specific help and it is within their capacity to provide it, almost everyone is happy to give that gift.’ Roberto nods thoughtfully. ‘Most people say vaguely, “If there is anything I can do to help, please ask”. It was like that when my wife died.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Emma responds, studying Roberto’s face.
‘Ah, it was many years ago now. I was quite a young man, if you can imagine that.’ He smiles.
‘My husband passed away last year,’ Emma says. It feels easier to speak the words in Spanish.
‘I’m sorry to hear it,’ says Roberto. He sips his own glass of wine, as though he knows she doesn’t want to say more. ‘What I have discovered over the years is that most people do wish to help– it is just they do not always know what to do. So you have to be clear about what you need, and if it is something they can accomplish, most are generous.’ He sits back in his chair. ‘So, no, I am not surprised that you have people helping you.’
‘People do often run towards a disaster,’ Emma muses.
Roberto shakes his head, smiling. ‘You are not a disaster, señora.’
Emma returns his smile. ‘No, I mean– well, it can take a huge shock, like a disaster, to get people to overcome their reluctance to push themselves forward. As you say, people often don’t know what to do. But I think you’re right, if you say what you really need and someone can help, people are amazing.’ Which makes her wonder why she hasn’t simply asked for more help over the past year.
Emma starts to collect her things and rises to leave. At the door, Roberto bows slightly and hands her the red carnation from the table. Emma thanks him for his kindness and wishes him goodnight.
‘But not goodbye, I hope,’ he responds.
She leans forward and kisses him on both cheeks, just like her father would have done.
Chapter 44
Violet
Embroidered Flowers
Today, she decides not to think of goodbyes; she will think of reunions instead. She is leaving her shipmates, some of whom are now her friends, but she is going home, too; she will see her family again.
It is the prelude to the bank holiday weekend, and the train from Southampton to Waterloo is packed. She sits on her case until a young man with a smart Malacca cane offers her his seat. She does not know whether he needs the cane to walk or holds it just because he likes the feel and swish of it in his hand. But her knees are aching, so she takes the seat. He tells her he is going to stay with his sister in Putney, that they will be a gay party of ten, including his mother who makes the best summer pudding anyone has ever tasted. She knows this is not true about his mother, but when she sees him limp away from the train she is glad she did not tell him.
The best summer-pudding cook is waiting for her with the boys and her sister in an archway at the station. The boys are taller than she remembers but do their best to hide it by thrusting their hands deep in their pockets and looking at their boots. As they look down, her little sister stretches up as if checking she has remembered the position of every freckle on her face correctly. And so they stand until their mother grabs them and hugs them, knocking them against each other until they are jostled and bumped into the right size and mix once more.
Then the talking starts, and the words follow them through the streets, past boys selling newspapers, between carriages with gleaming, shifting horses and over the river that now seems like a stream compared to the seas she has crossed.
Once they are home, there are changes to exclaim over: a new lamp, a larger table, and a blue and white plate piled with fresh baked scones. There are presents to unpack from her case and a package to unwrap from her sister– a sampler sewn in colourful threads, welcoming her home, her name nestled in a bed of embroidered petals.
Chapter 45
Emma
Night Stock
Back in Oxford, Emma heads to work. When she opens the door to the Flower Cabin, Betty is in full flow: ‘… so many places she knew of and short cuts into the colleges. And it was a treat to hear her speaking in, oh, I don’t know how many languages.’ She pauses. ‘Oh, hello, love. I’ve just been telling Les a bit more about our time in Cambridge.’
‘Has anyone heard from Tamas?’ Emma has been worrying about him all night.
Both look at her, faces full of concern.
‘No word yet, love, but Les is going to give the wholesale market another ring in a bit. He doesn’t want to make too much of a fuss.’
‘Mountain out of a molehill,’ Les agrees, nodding.
