Read Rosie for Free Online

away.’
    ‘From what?’
    ‘Your mother.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘She came round this morning. Did you tell her?’
    ‘I didn’t tell her anything. It was in the local paper.’
    ‘Damn.’
    ‘Well, it’s not surprising, is it?’
    ‘Wants to put me in a home. Told me, there and then. Even had some brochures with her. I mean, I ask you!’
    Nick looked at her, laden with a small suitcase and two carrier-bags. ‘How have you managed?’
    ‘I got a taxi – both ends.’
    Nick unloaded her. ‘Come on. Let’s get you inside.’
    Rosie glanced down the path to the road. ‘Where’s the van?’
    ‘In a scrapyard somewhere near Bembridge.’
    ‘Oh dear. Has it finally given up? Never mind – perhaps you can get a sports car now instead.’
    ‘Will you stop changing the subject?’ He fumbled in his pocket for the key, and ushered her in.
    Over tea and biscuits the story tumbled out. ‘She didn’t even ask if I was all right.’
    ‘I don’t suppose she needed to.’
    ‘Didn’t care, more like.’
    ‘Oh, now, stop feeling sorry for yourself.’
    ‘I’m not. I’m just cross.’
    ‘Well, you know what Mum’s like.’
    ‘Huh. Only ever worries about herself and about what her friends will think.’
    ‘That’s not quite true.’
    ‘Doesn’t worry about me.’
    ‘And neither is that.’
    Rosie looked at him pleadingly. ‘But to put me away!’
    ‘She doesn’t want to put you away, she wants to make sure you’re taken care of. That’s all.’
    ‘Dreadful expression! Taken care of! Makes me sound senile. Just so that I don’t get in her way.’
    Nick realized this particular conversation was going nowhere. ‘Why have you come here?’
    ‘Because you’re the only person I can trust.’
    He smiled. ‘You sound like a secret agent.’
    ‘Mmm.’ She paused. ‘That would be fun.’
    He shot her a look.
    ‘I thought it might be a bit of a break,’ she went on. ‘Do me good. A spot of sea air. There isn’t much of that in Richmond.’
    ‘Have you booked somewhere?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Where will you stay, then?’
    Rosie looked about her.
    ‘Oh, Rosie! There’s no space.’
    ‘There’s the little bedroom.’
    ‘But it’s full of painting stuff, and it’s tiny.’
    ‘You’ll hardly know I’m here – and it won’t be for long, just till I get myself organized.’
    Nick could think of a million reasons why it wouldn’t work, and why he really ought to put Rosie into the car right now and drive round the island until they found a reasonably priced hotel that would take her for a week or two.
    ‘I can cook for you while you’re painting. I won’t get in the way.’
    ‘It’s not that I don’t want you here, it’s just that, well . . . it’s not really big enough for two.’
    ‘But you lived here with Debs.’
    ‘That was different.’
    ‘You mean you loved her . . .’
    ‘Yes. No. I mean . . . it’s not the same.’ But when he looked into her eyes he knew he had lost: she wasn’t going anywhere. And he was, as she had known he would be, a soft touch.
    He sighed. ‘I’d better clear out the little bedroom.’ He bent down and kissed her cheek.
    ‘Thank you, sweetheart. You’re a life-saver. And it’s just till I get sorted. Then I’ll be out of your hair.’ She squeezed his hand and walked over to the window. ‘What a wonderful view.’ Then she turned round to face him. ‘What a lark, eh?’
    Many things might have happened over the next few days: she might have irritated the pants off him; she might have been demanding in her requests for food, drink and entertainment; she might have fussed over him and driven him mad. In the event, she did none of these.
    Over the first day she observed him at work and noted his
modus operandi
. By day three he worried that he was not looking after her enough. She had breakfast just after he did, then washed up and put away the china. Then she pulled on a pair of soft boots and a windcheater and went out. He didn’t see her