A Song in the Night (51 page)

Cassie looked thoughtful. “I thought that might be the case.” There was a pause. Then she looked directly at Rosie. “How would you feel about moving up here for a while – so you can be with your brother?”

Rosie was shocked. “
Here?
Ridderch Standen?”

Cassie smiled. “I meant
here –
Oak Lodge. This is your room; you can stay as long as you want. Ed and I talked about it the other day. We’d be thrilled to have you if you wanted to come.”

Rosie wasn’t sure she was hearing properly. “Are you saying to give up my job – my house – and
live
here?” Could Cassie really be meaning that? The thought of it seemed too good to be true.

There was an earnestness in Cassie’s eyes. “Only if you want to, love. There’s no pressure at all. I just wanted to let you know the invitation’s there. Take as long as you like to think about it.”

Rosie didn’t need to think about it. If Cassie had offered her a million pounds on a plate, it wouldn’t have looked as attractive as the offer she was making right now. But there were practicalities to consider.

“I’d need to find a job up here.”

“I’m sure you’d find something, love. There are always things in the local paper for people with childcare qualifications. Seems to be one of the most popular areas of employment these days.” She put a hand on Rosie’s shoulder. “The most important thing at the moment is that you decide whether or not you want to be up here. We can fill in the details later.”

Rosie looked at her suitcase, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears. Until this moment, she hadn’t permitted herself to think about life beyond the weekend. The prospect of going back to London on her own had been too grim, too terrifying to contemplate. It was something she had pushed from her consciousness, steel-barring her mind against the waves of panic that seemed to be ever present these days. Now, as she allowed herself to remember the awful day Cassie had rung with the news of Beth’s death, she shuddered. That day she’d felt fear of a different colour. A fear that the whole terrible thing would send her reeling over the edge. She still didn’t know how she’d managed to make the journey up to Yorkshire; the memory of it was little more than a blur in her head. And yet somehow she’d done it. Could she ever have made it if she’d known that
Mickey
would show up at the funeral? Never in her wildest nightmares had she anticipated anything like that. Face to face with him again after all this time, after five years of trying so hard to forget and move on. And now, could she really have gone back to London with that scene in the churchyard so fresh in her mind?

It was only now that Cassie had offered her a refuge from the storm that she was able to look the situation full in the face. Images of Mickey swirled unchecked through her head as Rosie allowed her mind to grasp the reality of Cassie’s proposition. Her repulsion was mixed with an almost incredulous sense of relief. There might be a few demons trying to raise their ugly heads again, but at least she wouldn’t be on her own. She would be here – with Ciaran, and Cassie and Ed. As if to reassure herself that this whole moment wasn’t a dream, she dug her fingers into the duvet. It sank, soft and cool beneath her touch. This was her bed, her room, for as long as she needed. Cassie had said so, and that was good enough.

As tears spilled down her cheeks, she reached out towards the older woman. “Thank you … so much. You don’t know what this means to me. I can hardly believe it.”

Cassie held her close and smoothed her hair softly. “It’s our pleasure, Rosie. You just go down tomorrow and tidy up your affairs, then you can get yourself back up here as soon as possible.”

Rosie felt her mind sink into the comforting balm of Cassie’s words. She had never seen this coming. But she was overwhelmed with gratitude that it had.

Thank you, Jesus.

She didn’t even try to stop the thought that instinctively rose up inside her. She was pretty sure he must have had something to do with it all.

____________

Mel filled up when she broke the news on her return. “Oh Rosie, I’m going to miss you so much!” There was a childlike candour in her tone, and when she rushed towards Rosie to hug her, Rosie did not resist. Somehow, she didn’t feel half so uncomfortable embracing Mel now she knew she’d be leaving.

“I’ll keep up the rent payments till you find someone else to share the house,” Rosie assured her.

Mel hesitated. “There’s no need, Rosie. Dan and I have already talked about moving in together somewhere. But I didn’t want to mention it just yet – with Beth and everything. We decided to wait until you were over things.”

Rosie was touched. She’d underestimated Mel. This girl was a genuine friend, yet she’d always been too busy getting annoyed at her to realise it. Spontaneously, Rosie hugged her again. “Thanks, that was good of you. Both of you.”

For the next hour they chatted about anything and everything. Rosie found herself thinking it was the best conversation she’d ever had with Mel. She knew that that was mostly down to her own frame of mind. Mel hadn’t changed. She was just as ditsy and naïve as ever. But, Rosie realised, as if for the first time, she was also as big-hearted as ever too; generous, thoughtful, and utterly guileless. A real gem.

“What will you do with all your furniture?” Mel’s face scrunched into a frown.

“I’m going to store it at Ciaran’s for now. He’ll have to come back down here at some point – when he’s ready to face it. My stuff can stay at his till then. I’ll just take up my clothes and a few personal bits.”

Mel’s face lit up. “We’ll help you move things, Dan and me. It’ll be done in no time.”

Rosie smiled at her gratefully.

Monday morning felt different to any other day Rosie could remember. Rehearsing her speech, she strode purposefully into work.

The supervisor made it easy for her. “Well, I’m not entirely surprised to be losing you, Rosie,” she said, not unkindly. “Though I have to say, we’ll miss you. You’ve been a good member of the team.”

“Does that mean you’ll give me decent references?” Rosie laughed, relieved that the worst bit was over.

The supervisor nodded. “So long as you can work me this week with no major mishaps, I’ll think about it.”

“You’re happy with just a week’s notice?” Rosie wanted to be clear.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Some of the girls have been asking about extra time recently.” The supervisor grinned. “I’ll work their sweet little butts off. They’ll be begging me to set someone else on by the time I’ve finished.”

In her dinner hour, Rosie contacted an employment agency in Northallerton. The idea had come to her the previous day. Although Cassie had said that there were always plenty of jobs going in the childcare sector, Rosie didn’t like the thought of hanging around penniless waiting to go through the whole interview thing. Posts being advertised now would most likely have their starting date some three or four months down the line. That was a long time to be without an income. The agency idea had come as a flash of inspiration. That way, she could at least be earning while she was on the lookout for something else.

The woman who answered her call spoke with a rich, northern accent. She took Rosie’s details and arranged an interview with her for Wednesday of the following week. Rosie tried to sound calm as the woman at the other end of the line tapped the information into her computer. But inside, her heart was racing.
Wednesday?
Could she honestly have everything sorted by then? It struck her then that she really was leaving London behind. For how long she had no idea. Maybe forever – maybe not. It all depended on what Ciaran did. But at least for now she was going far, far away … another twist in a tale that seemed to be getting more surreal by the minute. By the time she went back on afternoon duty, her head was in a spin. Everything was happening so fast. Indeed, it was hard to believe it was happening at all. She must try to keep a clear mind; there was so much to sort out and so little time to do it in. And in the meantime, there were children to look after.

____________

Toronto Camp May 10th 1917

Well, Emily, still here and in the pink as they say. We go into reserve in a couple of days – never a dull moment. Twinny Two’s not too good. The other evening he asked us to help him write to his parents about his brother’s death. Poor fellow’s hands were shaking so much he could hardly put two words together on the paper. He must have started again a dozen times; kept tearing the letter up, saying it wasn’t coming across right. I don’t know what he’s hoping to get ‘across’. The chap’s dead – I’m not sure how you can fancy that up to make it sound better. Besides, the army will have sent official notification and that’ll have been blunt enough. Look how hardened I’ve become, Em. I ought to be ashamed of myself.

Things are beginning to filter through about the mines I was telling you about. Sounds like it’s true after all. One of these fine days we’re going to be giving the Bosch a firework display they’re not expecting. Mind you, Em, I’d be surprised if they’re not suspicious. There’s been a lot more activity in our area recently – extra munitions, machinery, heavy artillery – all arriving and being manoeuvred into position with a sense of urgency. I’ve noticed there’s been quite a bit of troop movement as well. A lot of new men seem to have been drafted in, so one can only suppose it’s for a follow-up offensive. No doubt we’ll find ourselves right in the middle of it; they’ll probably need all the numbers they can get. Times like this I rather wish I wasn’t in the infantry. It’s hard to get excited about a big fight when you know you’re bound to be the first into the fray. Still, mustn’t be glum. We’ve lasted this long, haven’t we?

Toronto Camp May 11th 1917

We heard our first nightingale today. My thoughts went back to last year when we used to listen to the nightingales in quiet intervals between the shelling. Well, here I am again, Em. A year on and still here. The little bird’s song has cheered me enormously. In keeping with tradition, I will call her Rosie.

Railway Dugouts May 13th 1917

We’re in reserve now and things are fairly quiet. You wouldn’t think it to look at Twinny Two though. The poor chap’s in an awful state, I’m sorry to say. I think it must be very hard to lose a twin. It must be like losing part of oneself. He went missing for more than an hour yesterday. We were worried he’d got cold feet and run off. Jimmy and I eventually found him scrunched up in a big shell hole, sitting in two feet of water. He was absolutely soaked to the skin but seemed completely unaware of it. He seemed completely unaware of anything come to that. He was just rocking backwards and forwards, his head and hands shaking uncontrollably. We were trying to persuade him to come out when a shell broke quite some way up the line. It wasn’t even near us, but Twinny Two started yelping like an animal and covering his ears. It was horrible to watch, Em; the terror in his eyes is something I’ll never forget. To see a mate reduced to that is an awful thing. I couldn’t help remembering what happened to Wilf after his pal died. I think the same thoughts were running through Jimmy’s mind too. We soon realised we weren’t going to get very far with Twinny without him getting completely hysterical. We were just debating what to do when one of the officers, Captain Banks, came by and asked us what was amiss. He’d seen us talking down into the hole and thought we might have bagged ourselves a German prisoner. We explained the situation to him as best we could. He took one look at Twinny Two and said we needed to get him out as quickly as possible. I’ll be honest, Em, I was a bit nervous at first. Not all the officers are sympathetic with chaps that lose their nerve. Some would just as soon like to see them shot for cowardice. But Banks turned out to be a decent fellow. He helped us drag Twinny out of the hole and told us to get him to a dressing station immediately. He sent a note for the MO explaining that Twinny Two had just buried his brother and needed time to recover his wits. And that was that. We managed to get poor Twinny to field ambulance and left him there. He was still rocking and shaking as we came away. I don’t think he even knew who we were.

Battersea Farm June 1st 1917

Well, Em, it’s a good thing Twinny Two’s still out of the way. A couple of days ago, our boys began the most intense barrage I’ve seen yet. The guns haven’t stopped since – on either side – though I like to think we’re giving them a hotter time than they’re giving us. We’ve found out that the mines are due to go up in the next few days. We’re still in reserve at the moment, but our battalion’s going to be involved in the battle immediately after the bang, so we’ll be getting our orders nearer the time. Meanwhile our good old gunners are pounding away at the enemy lines – keeping them busy, I suppose, while the finishing touches are put to our devious little plan. At least if our boys can weaken some of their front line positions, we’ve a better chance of coming out of this thing in one piece. Oh, to be in the infantry!

Even today some shells have dropped uncomfortably close to us. I thought one had our numbers on it. It would seem a shame to die in reserve, Em. If I have to go at all, I’d rather go in action, in the heat of battle as it were. Perhaps I’m trying to be a hero. But then, I don’t suppose a dead hero is much use to anyone.

____________

Rosie closed the diary and put it in her drawer. She was thoughtful as she settled back at her laptop. She felt a strange excitement about writing the next bit. Remembering the feeling of Jonathon’s arms around her, her heart quickened. She quickly bit back the memory. Jonathon was attached after all; he’d made that quite clear. And yet, from everything he’d said and all the concern he’d shown her in recent weeks, Rosie was more than sure he’d be happy to hear her news.

Hi Jonathon –

An unexpected turn of events. Ridderch Standen is about to get a new resident – yours truly. Cassie suggested I move up to Oak Lodge for a while because she doesn’t envisage Ciaran coming back down to London any time soon. Having thought it over, it seemed like a good idea. There’s nothing keeping me down here now after all. Guess I’m ready for a change. So … I’ve given in my notice, am in the process of moving some of my gear over to my brother’s house for storage, and I should be travelling up to Yorkshire next Monday if all goes to plan. Need a job fast. Failing all else, I might find myself distributing Yellow Pages or something like that. Thought you’d like to know anyway.