She hadn’t got far when a breathless Marion caught up with her. It was the first time she had looked anything other than immaculate. Well, still immaculate but rather flustered.
‘Rosy, Rosy, do wait a moment. You’re not going to believe this but Penmenna School is going to be on television!’
Rosy spun on her heel. Was this what Marion had come to see her about – press for the disco tonight? What about the phone call? That was what she wanted to know about! Don’t push, Marion would tell her when she needed to. The worst thing Rosy could do was seem over-keen on what Matt had to say.
‘Well done, Marion, quite astounding. Although I’m not sure why the local news would want to cover the Valentine’s disco, goodness knows how you pulled that off, but well done.’
‘No, no, you misunderstand, it’s even better than that!’
‘What do you mean? Walk with me, or I’ll be late for class.’
‘It’s not the local news. National television want us!’
Oh dear, had the pressure been too much? Was Marion finally cracking? National news were sending cameras to the dance tonight? That was crazy!
‘The restoration project at Penmenna Hall, the garden restoration… Matt, lovely Matt that I met at yours last night, he wants the school to be involved. He wants us to help and be included in the programme, a segment a week with the children. If you agree, and why wouldn’t you, the school will be on national television, prime-time, every week. Mr Grant’s going to have his work cut out now! Can you believe our luck!’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Matt was confused. Not an unusual state of being, but in this case he was not comfortable with it. Women had been a mystery all through school and certainly in his late teens. Yet as he had become an adult they had become less so; he got on well with women, they were attracted to him and he seemed to have a knack for knowing who was genuinely interested, who was playing games and who just wanted to be a friend. He had been told that he was a rarity in the fact that all of his exes and he were on good terms; two had even named him godfather to their children. He didn’t think it was big-headed (although he knew he could easily be wrong) but he accepted this was rare, and that he was lucky.
But yesterday, yesterday had confused him. He knew he was attracted to Rosy, he could argue that he didn’t know why but then would find himself listing her qualities at great speed and with true belief. He knew this wasn’t the mere lust that clouded judgement, that kind of attraction that all of us experience at one time or another, managing to convince ourselves that it is indeed true love, souls meant to be, before using it as justification for ripping each other’s clothes off regardless of whether it’s a good idea, or really quite a bad one. He knew this wasn’t that. Although he was very keen on the ripping clothes off bit.
He knew that Rosy was attracted to him, really attracted to him. This was not ego; he was frequently laced with self-doubt about all number of things, but this he just knew. It was in the way she would look at him; her eyes would smile as she did so. When they had first met those glances had been assessing, amused. Now they veered from confused to more knowing, secure and then whoosh, back to confused again. The way they spoke to each other – they teased and they laughed, she even kicked him periodically, but they spoke to each other with respect. A respect he knew he felt and again believed she did too. The two of them just made sense together, it was that simple. Parents, those wiser than us, and social media all say that when you know you know, it’s indefinable but it exists. He knew.
And then last night, completely unplanned, he had been in a bit of a flap about Angelina, the only thing that caused him to unravel, and Rosy had somehow materialized, stepped in, made everything right and cooked dinner. All quite naturally. And then the two of them had… well, he wasn’t sure how they had got there. Things just seemed to follow a natural progression and before he knew it, they were kissing. There was no way in the world anything could convince him she wasn’t as keen as he was. His mind had kept flashbacks in his head throughout last night and this very lazy morning. One minute he was brushing his teeth, the next his mind would burst into colour with images of Rosy grabbing his head and pulling him back down to her. Knocking on Angelina’s door to see if she was awake and in need of coffee, andboom, a close-up of Rosy’s face, pupils dilated, lips swollen, took over his mind. Maybe he shouldn’t drive the car today.
However, drive he must. He needed to get to the nursery – with February in full swing, he needed to step up. Not just to go over his plans again, but also get on with the basics. Seeds needed sowing and he had a feeling that a day with his hands deep in the soil would bring him the calm he needed. The solitude of the gardens and the nature of the jobs planned for today might help shed some clarity on what on earth was going on with Rosy. He had thought things would be quite simple; they had accepted they were both attracted to each other, gone beyond mere acceptance on that table, and would have gone further had they not been interrupted. So why had she behaved so oddly, yet again, once the other two had turned up? He had wanted to stand proud next to her, hand in hand, and declare to Angelina and that strange woman that whilst it was lovely to see them (not quite true), they needed to sod off next door for a bit and let him and Rosy carry on doing what they had been doing. Cementing the nature of their relationship. In the most pleasurable way.
But she had been weird. There was no other way to describe it. She’d stomped off into the kitchen, and then become really arsey when he had followed her. It was similar behaviour to Sunday when he’d had to visit Angelina and she had just fled. This high-maintenance madness did not fit. It didn’t fit her personality or what he knew of it; it just wasn’t right. And he was fed up with it. There were only two reasons he could think of to explain it. The first was that his radar was massively off, and he was making a big mistake or that, as he had thought when he first moved in, she was seeing someone else. This latter could make sense; he may never have seen him, it could even be a her, but that didn’t mean he/she didn’t exist. It would explain her reticence perfectly. It tied in with her character – yes, she was attracted to him, Matt, but if she were seeing someone else then the Rosy he thought he knew would be eaten up with guilt. Would push him away until she had all loose ends tied up. Assuming she chose him, that was; she might not.
‘Are you not getting dressed?’ Angelina wandered into the kitchen where he was standing, staring out at the garden, clutching his coffee.
Oh God! He could see Rosy sat on the countertop, coldly informing him she was busy tonight. Valentine’s Day! Then his brain switched to watch her shuffle across the floor on her bottom in her living room, surrounded by cardboard hearts.
‘Oi! Earth to Matt!’ He felt something whip his arm and turned to see Angelina standing there grinning with a tea towel all twirled up, andwhoosh,in she came again,crack, right against his leg.
He grinned. She wasn’t getting away with this. He grabbed another tea towel and battle commenced, a ritual that harked back to their earliest days and in which neither gave any quarter.
Thwack!‘So, oh brother of mine’ –flick– ‘why’ –bam– ‘are you not’ –snap– ‘dressed?’
‘Ouch!’Thwack.‘Ha, that was a beauty, and maybe it’s pyjamas-to-work day, you rude cow!’Snap.
Flick.‘Oh shit, that was nearly the coffee, we should stop.’
‘Sensible, Angelina. What has happened? Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?’
‘Sensible enough to know you’re still a twat.’
‘Nice. Do you win celebrity awards with that mouth?’
‘Did you want your coffee to survive this morning? Anyway, why aren’t you offering me breakfast? You’re normally desperate to get me to stuff my face with fatty breakfast food.’
‘Good to know I’m appreciated. You normally very rudely reject. Did you want breakfast?’
‘No. What I want to know is what was going on with you and Miss goody-two-shoes last night?’
‘Before or after you were sick all over her garden path?’
