Page 25 of Whispers from the Past

‘Great, you’re ready! And with supplies - excellent. Shall we go? Nice jacket by the way…’

‘Yes, but although I’m always up for a mystery tour, why are we going there?’ Rose ignored the not so subtle reference to her clearly wearing a man’s jacket.

‘You’ll see!’ Susie winked.

‘Did you just wink at me?’

‘Sure did. Not only that. I think this occasion also calls for this…’ and she tapped her nose three times with her index finger.

‘Oooh. Must be something good to warrant a wink and nose tap!’ laughed Rose as she buckled up.

An hour later, Susie’s car pulled into a tight parking space on Flamborough Head. An imposing white lighthouse stood proudly on the cliff top. As Susie jumped out to find the pay machine, Rose opened her door for a better look. The wind tugged the door from her grip, taking Rose by surprise. Grabbing the lined jacket that Luke had given her from the back seat, she pulled it on as she firmly swung the car door closed. The wind bit at her fingers as she shoved them into the welcoming warmth of the pockets. At least his coat could provide her with some comfort even if the man himself seemed to be intent on unsettling the hell out of her, and even if she would only admit it to herself, she liked that it smelled of his aftershave; a mix of apple and sandalwood.

“This way!” Susie’s voice called through the wind.

They followed a path that had been created by wanderers rather than the carefully sculptured footpaths created by the Yorkshire Wildlife Trust. Rose found herself being pulled toward the cliff edge with each step. If it weren’t for Susie’s firm grip on her arm, she probably would have wandered too close to the edge. The view from the path over the North Sea was breathtaking. An endless body of water greeted her at every stolen glance. The wind had calmed down a little now, so it wasn’t savagely nipping at Rose’s bare skin.

“It’s beautiful here,’ her voice came out as a whisper.

“Your mother loved it here too. That was one of the reasons we chose this spot.”

“Chose? What do you mean?”

“After your mother died, I needed somewhere to come to feel close to her again. I missed her so much after she left. We had been inseparable since we met at school. If we weren’t in class together, we were at each other’s house, or down the beach, or on the bus somewhere. But then, that day, she just left. She took you and left. It was like a bereavement. Or that’s what I thought. I didn’t realise how wrong I was. When I found out she’d died, that piece of me that she took with her when she left with you shattered. All those years, that piece of me had still been attached. It was travelling the country with her. With you. I treasured each postcard I received from your adventures. But that day I heard. That terrible day…she hadn’t even told me she’d been unwell so I hadn’t had any time to prepare myself.” Susie wasn’t able to hold back the tears. They fell from her eyes like raindrops. Fat and heavy. Rose scrambled in her pocket for a tissue, and wiped her aunt’s face tenderly.

“You two were more like sisters than friends.”

“We were. And I didn’t realise that until she died. I’m not the same without her. But you being back near me, it is such a solace. A balm to my shattered pieces. Anyway, I went off track.” Susie took a deep breath to compose herself and took Rose’s hands in hers. “After your mother died, I realised I needed something tangible to remember her by. Something for me to visit. So I commissioned this.” Rose looked over Susie’s shoulder to see a small bench fixed into the headland. The glint of a bronze inscription caught her eye as she stepped closer.

“I know this,” Rose mused, running her fingers over the lettering. “It’s from The Count of Monte Cristo. Mum always used to tell me that we’re living life in a storm; sometimes we’re in the full throes of the storm being battered by the wind and rain, other times we’re at the tail end of the storm when things are calming down and you can see a glimmer of sunlight and tranquility just in reach. And then we can be in the eye of the storm. She hated that part most. Because that was when you thought that everything was settled and you were going to be ok, only for that piece of happiness to be ripped away savagely by the storm clouds that were waiting for you. She taught me to always be prepared; to not be complacent in life.’

‘I loved your mother very much, Rose, but my god she became so negative. And I know I’m not an English Lit teacher, but I’m pretty sure that isn’t what Dumas meant when he wrote that line. Storms are there to remind us of the highs and lows of life. They can be breathtakingly devastating, but afterwards what you’re left with can be a joy unparalleled. You need that darkness to appreciate the warmth and sunlight.’

‘She didn’t have a great deal of warmth and sunlight though, Susie. And her future was ripped away from her.’

‘You’re wrong, Rose. She had so much warmth and sunlight, and she had it every day after you were born. I’m just so sorry that she forgot that. Growing up, she was the epitome of positive thinking. But it seemed to just get lost along the way. Your mother adored that book nearly as much as you. She must have read it a dozen times. Sarah and her Dad were often quoting it to each other, trying to show who knew the book best. So when I needed something to add to the inscription I knew it had to be from that book.’ Susie had joined Rose on the bench.

‘It’s a beautiful bench. Thank you for doing this for her.’

‘I couldn’t let her just disappear. No-one talks about her. I just couldn’t bear it.

‘Well we can talk about her. And we can come here.’ As a cloud moved and the warmth of the sun washed over her, Rose suddenly remembered Mrs Robinson’s bookmark. She’d carried it with her since she’d been given it as it was nearly always in the book she was reading. But it felt right for it to be here with her Mum now. Sifting through her bag she found it nestled at the bottom along with some Tic Tacs and a packet of tissues. She gently tucked it between the metal plate of the inscription and the wooden bench. If anyone needed to be told that it was time to have patience and let the muddy waters clear it was her mum and she hoped that other people who came to rest on the bench would take solace from an elderly lady’s cross stitch. Susie didn’t say anything, but instead she reached across and took Rose’s hand in her own and tenderly squeezed it. They sat together like that for an hour watching the waves of the North Sea batter the coastline. There wasn’t the need for either of them to say any more, and neither wanted to leave their new place of companionable solace.

Chapter 10

🎵 She’s a Star by James 🎵

Monday night and her first art class came round a little too quickly for Rose’s liking. She had always been OK at art and probably on reflection she never gave herself the opportunity to find out if she could be better than OK. Art seemed to ask for so much of her time, and she had already committed herself to her books. But she was determined to embrace life fully in the Bay and that meant moving out of her comfort zone. Voices from the book shop below drifted up to her flat as Rose remembered Eleanor’s scrabble night. Tiptoeing down each of the narrow wooden steps, she had time to eavesdrop on the group for a minute or two before she had to leave. She knew it was ethically dubious, but she wanted to know more about Eleanor.

‘And you’re finding it OK in the annex? Not too cramped?’ asked an unfamiliar voice.

‘It’s fine. I stripped back so many things and put them all in the loft space,’ came Eleanor’s reply.

‘It is so strange not to see all of Michael’s art up everywhere,’ added another unfamiliar voice.

‘It had become a bit of a shrine to him. To be honest, I’m finding it quite refreshing to not see them at every turn.’

Rose was now holding her breath in an attempt to make as little noise as possible. She found she was desperate to know more about Eleanor in an unguarded moment like this.