Rose's Vintage (32 page)

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Authors: Kayte Nunn

BOOK: Rose's Vintage
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‘Uh, Rose, I'm not really sure what you had planned for the holidays, but Isabella's rented a house at the coast and apparently we're going up there for Christmas. Me and the kids, that is. We'll be back just before New Year's. So you can take some time off then if you want. I realised you haven't had a holiday since you started here in winter, so you're definitely overdue a break.' He looked uncomfortable.

Rose felt as if she'd had all the air knocked out of her lungs. She hadn't seen that coming.

‘Oh, I see,' she said doing her best to hide the fact that she felt like she was dying inside. ‘Well, that's good.' She tried to sound convincing. She was determined to put on a brave face and not let him see how upset the news had made her. He had his happy family back together, and she knew it was unfair to begrudge him that, but where did that leave her? She turned to face him. ‘The kids will be thrilled. Luisa was just telling me how much she wanted her mummy to stay for Christmas.'

‘Thanks for understanding. You're a gem.'

Rose didn't feel like a gem. She felt like raging about how unfair it was that her feelings didn't seem to be important to anyone. She felt sorry for herself, very foolish and more than a little pissed off. Had she imagined the words Mark had whispered in her ears only weeks earlier? Was he the same lying coward that Giles had been? Were all men so gutless, or was it just her own rotten luck?

‘I do have some plans for the holidays myself actually, so some time off would be good. I had been meaning to ask you about it,' she lied. In fact, she didn't have the slightest clue how she'd spend the time. Perhaps holed up with a batch of triple-chocolate cookie dough and
The Notebook
?

‘Oh good. Well, that's settled then.' Mark turned to leave, pausing to grab a slice of the fruitcake that was sitting on the table on his way out. ‘Bloody good cake, Rose.'

In that moment, she almost hated him. How could he be so insensitive?

As soon as the kitchen was cleared up, Rose took off for Eumeralla. She needed to see a friendly face and catch up with the news from back home. After a quick chat with Bevan, she settled into her favourite corner at Sacred Grounds and switched on her laptop.

There was no news from Henry, which, depending on how you looked at it, was both good and bad.

She cast her mind back to family Christmases at home with her brother and mum and dad: going to church on Christmas morning, followed by a full English breakfast, then gift opening and a late turkey lunch, toasting the holiday with sherry and a decent claret, before Elaine inevitably fell asleep in front of the TV, leaving the rest of them to squabble over the purple-wrapped hazelnut caramel toffees in the vast tin of Quality Street that accompanied every Bennett Christmas.

She resisted the temptation to email him; she knew he was probably getting impatient at the lack of information she'd been able to give him. Despite Isabella's return and her frustration with Mark, she still felt her loyalties were divided. She had decided that the best course of action was no action for the time being.
Not much of a plan
, she thought despondently.

The only light in that dark day was a brief email from Philippe, who was back in Bondi. He mentioned that he was spending Christmas with Frostie and some other mates; they were planning a morning's surfing followed by a Christmas barbecue and plenty of booze. There was an open invitation for her to join them.

Well
, she thought,
it's better than cookie dough and weepy movies
. And at least she didn't have to spend Christmas mooning around a deserted Kalkari feeling even sorrier for herself. The thought of some beach time, a sparkling ocean and the boys' company should have cheered her up, but she was in such a hole she couldn't see a way out of it. Nevertheless, she forced herself to email back to take him up on his offer.

‘Guess what?' asked an excited Astrid as Rose returned to the barn one afternoon a few weeks later. Astrid's parents had left, and before their departure they had met Thommo's parents, an occasion that had gone very well, thanks to several bottles of vintage Windsong shiraz that had been liberated from the cellar. ‘Thommo's invited me to spend Christmas with his family. They've been so great about the baby, and so nice to me.'

‘That's wonderful news, Astrid,' said Rose, struggling to summon up the enthusiasm her friend felt.

‘Hey, what's up? Where is the sunny Rose?'

‘Nah, it's nothing, really.'

‘I know you better than that. You're normally so happy, but not so much these last few weeks.' Astrid looked concerned. ‘Oh, wait, is it about Christmas? Mark told me I could take some time off. He is taking the children to the coast to spend time with Isabella. Is that it? It's not a secret that before she came back you two had a bit of a thing going.'

Rose sighed. ‘Yeah, but it was all pretty casual really, I doubt it meant anything to him. Now Isabella's back, I'm left feeling like a complete douche.'

‘Don't be silly. Anyway, she's a total cow; he just hasn't seen it yet,' Astrid said firmly. ‘And he will soon.'

‘Yeah, well, I'm not convinced. They've got a lot of history together. Not to mention two kids!' Rose knew that Mark had been sleeping in the spare room at Kalkari, and she'd been clinging onto that bit of knowledge. But a week in an idyllic beach house? She'd lay bets that would seal the reunion, especially if Isabella had anything to do with it.

‘Oh, Rose, I wish I knew how to cheer you up. Here I am, all loved up,' Astrid pointed to her belly, ‘and you're so unhappy. What do you plan for Christmas? I'm sure I could ask Thommo if there is room for another.'

‘Thanks, but I'm going to get away from here for a while. Philippe and Frostie are having Christmas in Bondi and they've asked me to hang out with them. It'll be nice to spend some time at the beach, too.'

‘Oh, good for you. I am jealous. I could really do with some time on the beach, and cooling off in the ocean. Although I will not be fitting into my bikini anytime soon, hey?' Astrid said, trying to lighten Rose's mood. ‘I guess no-one will be here at all at Christmas then. Jake is going back to Adelaide for a few days too.'

‘Oh, is he?' asked Rose. ‘Then it will be quiet here.' She was even more relieved that Philippe had saved her from a lonely few days. Time away might even help to give her some perspective.

Mark, Isabella and the two children left for the coast a few days after school finished up for Leo. Rose waved them off with a sinking heart mixed with a sense of relief. Isabella had driven her mad in the days leading up to their departure, insisting that Rose iron her entire wardrobe, as she couldn't make up her mind what to pack. Rose still had no idea what Mark might do about the situation with Isabella long-term, but one thing was certain: she was sick of being treated like a badly paid skivvy.

She stomped over to the barn to pack her things for her own road trip, vowing to try to keep her mind off Mark. She threw a couple of pairs of shorts and some tees into her backpack and added the dress she'd worn to dinner with Mark in Sydney. Astrid had kindly let her keep it. ‘After all, what use is it going to be to me?' she'd insisted. As she folded it carefully, Rose remembered the thrill of that night. The night she'd first kissed Mark. Well, what a bloody mess that had gotten her into, she thought grimly as she tightened the drawstring on her backpack and clicked the clasps into place.

She ran into Astrid just as she was hauling the heavy pack to her car. The two girls embraced. They'd become firm friends in the months since Rose had arrived at Kalkari and she was going to miss her. ‘Have a great time in the sun and the surf, and watch out for those Bondi beach boys.' Astrid winked at her.

‘A bit of eye candy never hurts, hey?' said Rose, attempting to be cheerful as she heaved the backpack onto her shoulders and turned to leave.

She had seen Mark that morning, before he left. Before Isabella was up and about. ‘So, you're off this arvo then?' he'd asked.

‘Yup. I'm catching up with some friends in Sydney.'

‘Travel safe, dear Rose.'

She'd looked up at him, surprised to see sadness in his eyes. Perhaps he wasn't as insensitive as he seemed? The tiny hope that they might find a way back to each other flickered and grew in her heart.

It grew stronger when, just as she was turning to leave, he'd pressed a small square package into her hands. ‘Merry Christmas.'

‘Oh,' she was embarrassed. ‘But I didn't get you anything.'

He waved her away. ‘Open it on Christmas Day.'

CHAPTER 33

B
ondi was at its sparkling best, making it impossible for Rose to stay completely miserable for long. She sighed with pleasure when she spied the smooth crescent of golden sand, bronzed baking bodies and glittering blue ocean. It was so much busier than when she'd first been there, in the middle of winter. She parked her car in a back street and headed straight for Philippe's cafe.

‘Rose!
Alors!
' he cried from behind the coffee machine. ‘You made it!' He came around the counter and gave her a big hug. ‘I'm finishing up here in five minutes. Why don't you sit down? Coffee?'

Rose looked gratefully at him. ‘When it's made by you, how can I refuse?'

Later, as they strolled back to her car, companionably arm in arm, to collect her luggage, Rose found herself looking forward to the prospect of a few days chilling out at the beach. Even though it didn't feel the slightest bit like a traditional Christmas, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all.

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