‘No, of course not.’ Titch made a face and started massaging her bump.
‘Well, whatever it is, I can’t very well ask her now. And she must never know that I heard them in flagrante – she would be absolutely mortified and I doubt I could look Kit in the face. Although, I don’t think I will ever unhear it.’ Rosa cringed. ‘I will arrange to see her tomorrow when I’ve dropped his lordship off at Little Devils.’
Titch sighed contentedly. ‘This is nice, isn’t it? Me and you having a bit of peace. I don’t mind that the shop is quiet this week. I’ve been getting more of those fake contractions, and it scares me a bit if I’m honest.’
‘Yes, you don’t want the baby giraffe coming before he or she is cooked. If you get worried though, get on to your midwife.’
‘I will, of course. How was your meeting anyway?’
‘Good. Another funny story actually, but…’ Rosa checked her watch, ‘…Shit, is that the time? Do you want me to fetch Theo too?’
‘No, Ritchie is doing it – and then he’s taking over from me, thank goodness. I can have a lie-down upstairs – bit like your mum and dad.’ Titch giggled. ‘You go. Let’s catch up soon, mate, and as for your mum, good on her, I say. She’s getting more of her fair share than the pair of us, by the sound of it.’
Rosa arrived home at Gull’s Rest, glad to kick off her shoes and sit in her favourite place: the window-seat. The house was warm and peaceful. Worn out from chasing the eager pugs Pongo and Ugly, and his dachshund ‘wife’ the Duchess at the Lobster Pot pub, Hot was already snoozing beneath his stinky green blanket in his basket in front of the log-burner. Little Ned was also tired after an exciting session at the nursery and was having a nap in his pram. Both of her boys thereby allowing their mum to take a few minutes to make sense of her day.
Every day, the view from the front bay window gave Rosa great pleasure. The tide was making its way in. Seagulls were cawing their delight at a wrapped-up couple sitting on the bench down the path eating chips from cones. The pair were chatting so animatedly they were oblivious to the feathery thieves waiting to swoop at an opportune moment for a carb-laden afternoon snack. The sharp line of the horizon was marred by the low cloud of the November day, and the café, now lit with Christmas lights and chimney smoke weaving into the cold air, made for a picture postcard scene.
Her mind began to clear. It had been a bizarre day. Jamie had seemed so sincere about his love for Celia Carlisle and the jasmine story had seemed so believable and sweet, but a tiny part of her suspected that he knew damn well whose name would be on that last will and testament. But with the way her own childhood had gone, Rosa trusted no one – and in most cases it did indeed turn out that people were guilty until proven innocent. Jamie was undeniably a handsome man and had given the deceased woman great pleasure, so did it matter? To Celia’s family, yes, but in Rosa’s eyes nobody deserved anything from anyone else. Inheritance. It wasn’t a right. Just a tradition.
She thought back to her selfless great-grandfather Ned Myers, who had set out to find her and leave her his beloved Corner Shop. And how both Mary and her great-grandmother Queenie had relinquished their claim on it, in order to make sure that Rosa was set on the path to a decent future. Life worked in such mysterious ways and there was not one day when she was not grateful for how hers was turning out. Maybe that was it about life: if you never expected anything, you were never disappointed – and then when something good did happen, you appreciated it all the more. Her existence had gone from dead-end jobs and drunken one-night stands to a happy, fulfilling life full of love and financial security – and it had happened almost overnight. And for this she would be eternally grateful to her son’s namesake, her great-grandfather.
Maybe it was her turn now to do some good for someone who hadn’t had the chance to fulfil their wishes. She reached in her bag for the blue folder. When she and Jamie had looked at it properly in the café, inside were just a few coloured Post-it notes with scribbles on them and one A4 printed sheet. Between them they had managed to glean that Celia had been midway through arranging a carol concert for the smaller of the two churches in Polhampton, in order to raise money for its new roof.
There were no names of people who had agreed to take part, no date, no timings. However, clearly typed on the A4 sheet was the list of celebrities she wanted to approach to open it. All of them were very handsome A-list male Hollywood stars. And, as much as Rosa would have loved to book Idris Elba for the gig, she guessed that he had something far better to do with his time than be a compère for a charity in a small Devon seaside town. Rosa laughed to herself. Felix was under the impression that his mother had been working hard on her beloved charity work, when quite clearly she was talking the talk to disguise the fact that she was walking the walk with her young and handsome hired help.
Thinking of mysterious ways, Rosa thought that if her father hadn’t moved to Cockleberry Bay and set up business, she would never have overhead the conversation with Felix, which had now given her the perfect idea for her Christmas charity event.
A log shifted in the burner and brought her back to reality. Little Ned would soon be awake and wanting his supper, playtime, bath and bed. And despite having all that free time today, she had forgotten one key thing: to buy some more nappies. Rosa could have kicked herself. It was too cold and late for them to be going out again. This was exactly when she could do with Josh being here. If she had still been living up in the centre of town in the Corner Shop flat, the Co-op was literally two minutes up the road, but she wasn’t, and she would have to manage. She had two left, that would just have to be OK and if not, she would make use of one of the huge sanitary towels she had worn after giving birth.
Leaving her two boys still asleep, she was just going upstairs to check if she had maybe left some nappies up there somewhere, when she heard a light tapping noise coming from the utility room. Freezing on the bottom stair, she prayed that Hot wouldn’t wake up and start barking. Not even daring to breathe, she stood completely still before hearing the sound of footsteps running away and a baby crying that wasn’t her own. Brandishing a rolling pin from the kitchen drawer, Rosa ran out to the utility room and feverishly unlocked and opened the back door. Not wanting to leave Little Ned in the house alone, that was where she stopped in her tracks. There was no one to be seen as she peered into the gloaming; however, her attention was drawn to the porch step. Looking down she was amazed to see two packs of nappies, a plastic tub of formula milk and a handmade paper heart with just a single X on it.
‘Who are you?’ Rosa bravely shouted out. Her reply was a loud thud at the end of the garden, followed by the cries of not just a baby this time, but a young woman clearly in distress.
CHAPTER 28
‘Nice arse,’ Davina Hunt commented as Lucas bent down to put some lagers on the bottom shelf of the hotel bar fridge.
‘You’ve forgiven me then.’ Lucas stood up and smirked at his girlfriend, who immediately walked behind the bar and slid her arms around his waist.
‘Forgiven you? I was the one who forgot something so important to you. I’m really sorry, Lucas. Are you working tonight?’