Page 51 of Coming Home to Roseford Villas
‘Got time for a cuppa?’ Rory asked.
Stella shook her head. ‘Not right now, but I’ve got a delivery for you.’
‘Amazon drive straight past my house on the way to yours!’ Rory said, mildly exasperated. ‘I really need to add a note to the delivery instructions, to stop them disturbing you with my stuff.’
‘It’s not from Amazon.’ Stella’s voice was gentle. ‘It’s from someone a little closer to home.’
Rory started, and as Stella passed her the package, with a letter on top, she nearly dropped it. ‘What is this, Stella?’
Stella smiled. ‘It’s from someone who misses you very much. He asked me to give it to you, so you weren’t put on the spot.’
‘Oh…’ Rory turned and wandered through the small hallway of the gatehouse and to the kitchen.
‘Will you be all right?’ Stella asked, still on the doorstep.
‘Yeah,’ Rory replied, glancing back at Stella. Realising she’d been too flummoxed by the package, she smiled at her friend. ‘Sorry. Thank you for bringing this over. I’ll be fine.’
‘OK,’ Stella said, a note of concern in her voice. ‘If you’re sure…’
‘I’m sure. Can we talk later?’
‘Of course.’ Stella closed the front door behind her, leaving Rory staring at the envelope and the parcel in her hands.
In all the time since she and Leo had called a halt to their relationship, she’d gone round and round in circles, thinking about what might have happened between them, if things had ended differently. In the end, she’d come to the decision that she’d wasted enough hours on the ‘what ifs’ when they’d been teenagers: there wasn’t any point in going back there again. With time and space, she’d realised that as far as she was concerned, with herself and Leo it would be all, or it would be nothing.
Pondering all this, she meandered over to the kitchen table and sat down. She picked up the envelope and turned it over and over in her hands. It seemed a delightful call-back to their past, when Airmail missives on blue, almost transparent paper had flown their way across the world to her. She knew the medium of communication would have been a deliberate nod to that time in their lives, and that Leo would have considered it carefully. The lawyer in him would have weighed up every pro and con, before settling on a plan. Even the request for Stella to be the messenger had been a carefully considered move, meant to give Rory the space to make an informed decision.
She couldn’t stare at the envelope all afternoon. Sliding a finger under the flap, she pulled out a perfectly folded sheet of writing paper. As she flipped it open, she noticed his penmanship hadn’t changed, either. She’d loved his handwriting, full of loops and flourishes and hinting at the loving man underneath that slightly aloof demeanour. The words he’d written were no less passionate than his handwriting.
Dearest Rory,
I am so sorry, for everything. Through my own hubris and self-absorption, and a desire to keep the broken pieces of myself protected at all costs, I made a huge mistake. I’ve been trying to think of the words to communicate all of this, but every time I’m face to face with you I just can’t summon them up. That’s why you’re holding this in your hands, now.
When we were so far apart, all those years ago, it was always easier to write down my feelings, put them in an envelope and send them winging their way to you. I never was any good at speaking about my emotions: the written word came to me so much more easily. The liberation of being able to send those feelings to you, to be read in your own time, was something for which I was always grateful, in some odd way, no matter how much I wished we were together in the same place.
So, I’ve decided to write everything down, in the vain hope that you’ll understand why I reacted the way I did when I read your first draft. You see, reading what you’d been inspired to write, the things about our relationship that I’d buried for so long, was a revelation I just wasn’t ready to face, and the thought of those words getting out there, for others to read, made me remember those feelings that I hadn’t considered for over twenty years. I felt jealous of the pages you’d written on, and jealous of the readers who were, eventually, going toread what felt so personal, and while you reassured me that ideas and manuscripts change, it still felt like a violation.
However, time and distance, as we both well know, can change a lot of things. I now realise how wrong I was not to trust you. You weren’t just a witness to our relationship: you were one half of it, and at times, I’d say, the better half at that. I always trusted you, and I trust you now. And so, I want to say I’m sorry, and I hope you can forgive me for throwing away what could have been a wonderful second opportunity for us. It wasn’t just reading your novel. It was the knowledge that we’d still have a lot to face, and the acknowledgement that I still had a lot of decisions to make for myself, before I could let anyone else into my life, even you.
Time and distance have worked though. And if serendipity, Fate or whatever has seen fit to put us both in the same place at the same time, I desperately want to know if you’d consider giving us, the grown-up, sensible us, a second (third?) chance. If you feel as though we can at least talk about this, then I’d love it if you would join me at the chalet at seven o’clock tonight. But whatever you decide, the gift is yours. You always said I had an eye for the details: well, this is one detail I wanted to act upon. If I can’t be the one to keep you warm on these cold winter’s nights, then perhaps it will.
Yours, in hope,
Leo
Rory’s hands were trembling so badly as she finished reading the letter that she tore the tissue paper that wrapped the gift it came with. As she did, a heat rushed through her. There, inside the paper, was the grey cashmere jumper she’d been resisting for weeks. And if that wasn’t a sign, then she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get a better one.
59
Checking her reflection for the last time in the mirror in the hallway, at five to seven Rory left the gatehouse. She decided to drive up to Roseford Villas. If things went sideways with Leo, she could make a quick exit, and if they didn’t… well, she could always walk home later. Taking a deep breath, she closed the front door and drove the short distance to the B&B.
Rory could see the lights from the chalet as she parked in the driveway and hurried down the garden path. The chalet itself had been hung with miniature fairy lights, and there were already candles lit on the table she’d spent the summer eating and writing on. Warm memories of a holiday well spent washed over her. Although things hadn’t ended well with Leo that time around, she instantly realised that, by inviting her back here for the evening, he was trying to recapture some of the early, heady emotions they’d both felt. And, much as she was trying to resist and keep her rational head on, she realised it was working.
She reached the door of the chalet, and there, looking deceptively relaxed on the bench seat, was Leo. As he caught sight of her on the other side of the door, he jumped to his feet and, betraying the nerves that were obviously hovering beneaththat apparently calm exterior, nearly overturned the candle-bedecked table. Rory couldn’t help but smile as he righted them hastily before hurrying to open the door.
‘Hi,’ she said, still smiling. ‘I hope you’re not going to burn the place down before we even get the chance to have dinner!’
Leo smiled back, and Rory’s heart began to melt.Stop it, she thought. It couldn’t be that easy. Could it?
