Page 42 of Coming Home to Roseford Villas
‘Now who’s speaking in clichés,’ Rory replied, smiling briefly.
‘I’m allowed to. I’m old and far past caring. You, on the other hand…’
‘He made his choice to move on. Who am I to argue?’ Rory’s voice trembled a little. ‘It would never have worked between us.’
‘Are you quite sure about that?’ Shona asked.
Rory shook her head. ‘He made it pretty clear the last time we spoke that he didn’t want anything else from me. And after it fizzled out, and I left…’
‘So, you parted without saying a proper goodbye? Good heavens, the plot thickens!’ Shona’s eyes twinkled, but there was a shrewdness behind that gaze that Rory didn’t misinterpret.
‘It’s not really a plot if it’s real life, Shona,’ Rory replied, trying to inject a little lightness into her tone. ‘Just bad timing.’
‘I do wonder, though…’ Shona paused tantalisingly.
‘What do you wonder?’
‘Whether, if you’re brave enough to put your novel out to the wider world, would it be so big a risk to, I don’t know what the common mode of communication would be, to “Snap” Leo, and find out how he is? He was a very good-looking chap, and he seemed rather decent.’
Rory burst out laughing. ‘I’m not fifteen years old. Snapchat isn’t really my thing. But I take your point.’
Shona smiled. ‘I’m sorry – I’ve obviously been listening to my grandchildren too much. But it just seems a shame to throw away something so promising, at least from what I saw.’
Privately, Rory wondered if Stella had been talking about her and Leo’s rather precipitously ended romance, but she decided to let it go.
‘I’m not brave enough to take the risk that he still feels the same way as he did when we ended things. I can’t put myself through that,’ Rory said gently. ‘I lost him once. I can’t lose him again.’
‘And who says that you’d lose him?’ Shona asked. ‘Isn’t love worth taking the risk?’
Rory shook her head. ‘Not this time. I just don’t have it in me.’
For a long moment, Shona scrutinised Rory. ‘Are you quite sure about that?’
As they reached the kitchen, and Simon rose from his seat by the table to acknowledge their presence, Rory knew, despite her protestations to the contrary, that she wasn’t sure at all.
‘What’s love about, if it’s not about taking risks?’ Shona observed. ‘I’ve had five husbands, and, my God, if that hasn’t been a mantra for my life, then I don’t know what has.’
‘But I’m not you, Shona,’ Rory chuckled, despite herself. ‘I could never be that brave.’
‘It’s not bravery, you silly goose!’ Shona replied. ‘It’s blazing, impetuous stupidity. But without it, I’d never have experienced all that I have. Isn’t that worth being a little bit stupid for?’
‘My life is not a romantic novel,’ Rory replied. ‘And I’m not sure I’m cut out for loving Leo. There’s too much history there.’
‘Well, I can’t tell you what to do, of course,’ Shona said, ‘but wouldn’t it be a shame if you got to my age and the biggest question you were still asking yourself iswhat if?’
Rory shook her head. ‘You’re incorrigible, Shona.’
‘But you also know I’m right.’
Rory didn’t grace that with a response. She needed time to think, and come to terms with what life without Leo really meant. She’d been offered a taste of something over the summer, and it was something she’d been devastated to walk away from. The question was, was she willing to fight to get it back? And who was she fighting, anyway? She had the feeling it was no one other than herself.
Much later that evening, Rory kept thinking back to that conversation. Was Shona right, or was she just laying herself open to another heartbreak? For all she knew, Leo was settled in London, and might even have met someone else by now; some glamorous lawyer with whom he could have great fun moving on. Well, she thought, there was only one way to find out. Taking a deep breath, she picked up her phone.
50
After yet another sleepless night, Leo rolled over in bed and huffed out his frustration. He was still no closer to finding an answer to the creeping sense of unease that had dogged him since he’d found out that an offer had gone in on Roseford Villas. Infuriatingly, his aunt and uncle hadn’t picked up the phone when he’d tried to call them yesterday, and even when he’d tried several more times, in increasing desperation through the day, they still hadn’t. At least, he thought, he was going to have some breathing space next week. He’d emailed Andrew after their impromptu meeting in his office and requested a few days’ leave, a bit of R&R, he’d said. Andrew, off the back of their earlier conversation, had approved. One more day at the office, and then he’d have five days to rest and sort out his head.
The trouble was, now he’d committed to it, he had absolutely no idea what to do with the time he’d booked. Staring at the four walls of his small flat was out: he’d be better off at work. He’d hoped to get back to Roseford, having made contact with his aunt and uncle to ensure they’d have room for an impromptu guest, but it seemed a bit risky just to turn up, not having askedthem if it was all right first. He didn’t want to put them on the spot.
