Page 38 of Whispers from the Past

‘It’s not me that needed the warning. I think you might have just given Mrs Parker a heart attack with the juddering from that drill resonating through the cafe’s walls. What was her near death experience in aid of?’

‘Just adding a bit of flora to the bookshop.’ She bent down to pick up the window box, but it was just slightly too long for her to pick up by herself. Tony jumped at the opportunity to help. ‘Here. Let me!’ He said as he jogged over and lifted the end closest to him. Together they lifted the box into place, and Tony took the weight as Rose pushed the two wall plugs in and then screwed it into place.

‘What’s going in here?’

‘Books,’ Rose teased.

‘Books?’ Tony’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

‘Flowers, Tony. What you’d normally put in a window box. Siobhan is getting them ready for me. She’s bringing them down later this afternoon.

‘Ah, that makes more sense. Maybe I should do the same for the cafe. Can’t have you showing us up with your fancy flowers. Need any more help? I’m free all morning’.

‘No, I’m good. Thanks though. No more drilling either, so I shan’t be bothering you or your customers with any more noise.’

‘You can bother us all you like,’ he replied with a wink. Rose hoped that she didn’t outwardly cringe as much as she did inwardly at that little gesture.

By the end of the day, the bookshop frontage was awash with pansies and dwarf conifers. Rose inhaled deeply to soak up the different scents that hung from the bird cages and erupted from the window box. This morning, it had seemed like such an inconsequential act. But she hadn’t realised how happy it would make her feel as she brought colour and life to the old stone walls of the shop. And just when she didn’t think she could smile any more, a solitary butterfly settled itself on the stone by the window box. Rose always loved seeing butterflies. Her mother had a red admiral butterfly tattooed on her wrist and she could remember it vividly. Whenever she saw one, it always felt like a link to her. Just the prospect of seeing more butterflies outside her window made the effort of today more than worth it.

That evening, she found herself at The Old School House once again for her art class. She settled herself next to Susie once again (they were both creatures of habit) and listened to Simon as he demonstrated how to use their acrylic paints to create different effects. It was soon time for the students to try their hand at it, and Rose was surprised that her first attempt was coming together so well.

‘So how has your day been?’ Susie asked as she smeared green paint across her cheek.

‘You need to come and have a look at the bookshop tomorrow - I’ve made some additions to it,’ Rose teased.

‘I’ll drive by in the morning on my way to work. I took my car up to the garage yesterday morning for its service. But it was all closed up. Any ideas why?’

‘No idea. Why would I know?’ Rose asked a little too defensively.

‘Just that you and Luke seemed to be getting on quite well. It’s not like him to close up the garage.’

‘We’re not getting on quite well Aunty. We’re either being civil to each other, or I’m being abandoned at a farm watching him drive off. There doesn’t seem to be much in between.’ Rose blew out a breath in frustration.

‘Don’t give up on him just yet Rose,’ Susie gently asked.

The rest of the art class was spent in an awkward silence as Rose worked out her frustrations on the canvas in front of her.

As they were packing away all their art materials, Susie pulled Rose into an impromptu hug.

‘I really think you should come and stay the night with me, Agatha and Christie. Ferrets are known for their wellbeing boosting skills.’

‘I don’t think that’s true, is it Susie?’ Rose chuckled as she pulled herself out of the embrace.

‘Well it may not be a proven scientific fact. But they always cheer me up!’ She stepped away to find her phone in her bag and began to quickly type a message. ‘There. Done. Eleanor knows you’ll be at mine for the night. Let’s go.’

‘But I haven’t got my pyjamas…or clean underwear…’

‘I’m sure the universe will cope if you wear your knickers for more than one day, Rose. And I’ve got a cupboard of pyjamas you can borrow.’

Rose could have argued, but in that moment she realised that she didn’t want to. Over the years, if they’d lived closer, she was sure that her and her Mum would have had plenty of sleep overs and even holidays with Susie. She was fed up of thinking about the times she’d missed out on.

Susie’s cottage was just what Rose would have imagined for her. The honey coloured sandstone walls framed a delicate pink wooden door. The house sat just far enough away from the main street that it would be quiet, but not too far away that you could ever feel lonely. Inside, Rose scanned the walls and found a photo of her mother that she’d never seen before. She looked around 18 and was posing with Susie in front of the Ford Capri.

‘Your Grandad took that photo just before she’d be allowed to drive the car for the first time without him sitting in it too. We just drove up to Scarborough, but it felt monumental.’

Rose traced her mum’s face through the glass. ‘I haven’t seen any photos like this of her. All the ones I’ve got are awkward selfies from disposable cameras. And in most of those there is only half of one of us in each one.’

Susie hurried off down the tiny hallway, and dipped into a room on the right which Rose assumed was the living room. Reluctantly, she left the photo of her mother and followed her. Susie had buried herself in a large dresser and was furiously flinging books and folders behind her. Rose had to side step a couple of times to avoid being hit in the shins.