Page 6 of The Little Island Flower Stall
He chuckled. ‘Gets plenty of visitors though.’ He twiddled with the dial on his radio until the faint strains of classical music came from the car speakers. ‘Don’t mind a bit of music, do you?’
‘Not a bit.’
‘Only some don’t like it. So you’ll be here for Liberation Day then?’
Bella frowned. ‘I didn’t even realise that. We watched the parade a few times when I was young. I always wanted to be in it – used to be mad jealous of the girls sitting up on the floats. When is it?’
‘May ninth. Not long now.’
‘That’s something to look forward to.’
‘Yes, gets bigger every year. It’s turned into a bit of a tourist thing now, but as long as we remember it, I suppose that doesn’t matter so much.’
Bella turned to the window as he started to hum along to the radio. Through a break in the trees she caught her first glimpseof the sea, and her tummy did a somersault, just as it would have done as a girl. Now that she was here, whatever the reasons, she was excited to see St Rosa again. It had never made sense to her that Sean didn’t want to come here, but now she understood it. He hadn’t wanted to come because it was something that would have made her happy. Well, she’d show him. She was going to have a whale of a time here, even if it killed her.
‘Here we are…’ The cabbie let out a low whistle. ‘Lovely place your aunt’s got.’
Bella looked out at Villa Rosa. It wasn’t big enough to truly deserve the name – hardly a villa and more of a townhouse – but it was pretty. Nobody could remember who’d given the house its name, and nobody had seen any point in changing it over the many years it had been in the family. It was tall, shoulder to shoulder with its neighbours, double-fronted and the rendering a rose-pink worthy of its name. The sash windows looked as if they were long overdue a lick of paint, as did the front door, but something about the shabbiness added to the house’s charm. The front garden was, as Bella would have expected, bursting with trees and shrubbery. There was a cherry tree, heavy with blossom, in its shadow clumps of bluebells, and along the front wall were rows of daffodils. A fat seagull stood on the chimneypot and regarded Bella with beady eyes as she got out of the car and paid the driver. She looked up and stuck her tongue out at it as he went round to the boot for her cases.
‘Don’t even think about coming for my ice cream.’
‘What was that?’ The driver slammed the boot shut.
‘Oh.’ Bella couldn’t help but smile. She nodded up at the gull. ‘Just having a word with that fella up there.’
He let out a chuckle. ‘They need having a word with – monsters, they are. Will you be all right with your luggage?’
‘Yes, perfectly. Thanks.’
He pulled a business card from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. ‘If you need any ferrying about while you’re here, I’d appreciate the business. That’s my number…You can WhatsApp me too, if you’re so inclined.’
‘I will. Thank you.’ Bella glanced at the card and smiled. ‘Brian. That’s my dad’s name, so I definitely won’t forget it.’
Before she’d made it halfway down the path, the front door opened. A trim old lady, white hair cut short, wearing beaded earrings and an elegant seventies trouser suit was leaning on crutches, ankle bandaged and beaming at Bella.
‘Oh my goodness! Look at you!’ she cried in a voice that had far more vigour than her tiny frame might suggest. ‘All grown up! And so beautiful!’
‘Hello!’ Bella made her way over. Celestine’s broad smile was so infectious that she couldn’t help sending one every bit as bright back in return. ‘You look really well.’
‘I can’t complain, in the circumstances. I could be a lot worse off, though this pesky ankle business is frustrating. How was the journey?’ Celestine cast a glance at Bella’s luggage. ‘Is that all you have, or is there more to follow?’
‘No more to follow – this is it. I didn’t see the point in bringing loads when you have a washing machine…I’m assuming you have a washing machine…right?’
Celestine laughed lightly. ‘I might be ancient but I don’t still do my smalls on a rock in the river. Of course I have a washing machine. You’re more than welcome to make use of anything I have; while you’re here, consider Villa Rosa your home.’
Bella followed her inside. Celestine moved slowly, of course, but she seemed to be managing her injury well. It gave Bella time to take in the house, and she was hit by a sudden rush of memories. It was like time had stood still and she was ten years old again, visiting with her parents. Everything lookedexactly the same. Bella imagined that her aunt must have decorated during those thirty years, and that her mind must be playing tricks on her, but the familiarity was so uncanny she couldn’t shake it. It even smelled the same, of beeswax polish and cut flowers in vases and little sachets of dried lavender that Celestine had always kept in every drawer. From nowhere, Bella’s eyes filled with tears. How she wished she could have that little girl back. She sniffed hard. The last thing she wanted to do was get upset in front of her great-aunt.
‘I must say,’ Celestine said, easing herself into a wing-backed chair in the living room while Bella left her cases at the door and took a seat on the sofa, ‘I’m still surprised you’ve come. Not that I don’t appreciate it, of course – it’s very kind of you. I would completely understand if you decide you can’t stay for the whole six weeks.’
‘There’s not much for me to be at home for right now, if I’m honest.’
Bella chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment. She hadn’t told her aunt the whole story of her split from Sean. In fact, she hadn’t told her about the split at all. She wasn’t sure why, now that she considered it. Had she feared some old-fashioned disapproval? Perhaps, but she realised now that she ought to be straight about her circumstances from the start.
‘I left my husband, actually,’ she continued, watching Celestine’s reaction carefully. But there was no real reaction to speak of. Had she heard what Bella had said? ‘We’re getting a divorce,’ she added, feeling the need to clarify.
‘In my day people didn’t get divorced,’ Celestine said after a brief moment where she appeared to be considering Bella’s statement. ‘I always thought it was ridiculous. I couldn’t understand why anyone would stay married for the sake of appearances. In fact, I had one friend who’d been living apart from her husband for the last twenty years of his life and yet keptit a secret from almost everyone for fear of people gossiping. Imagine that! Both of them pretending to be happily married for all that time! When I asked her why, she couldn’t even tell me! I say life’s too short to be trapped in a loveless marriage. Good on you, if that’s what you need to do. Grab the bull by the horns and do what makes you happy.’
The tension in Bella’s shoulders dissipated. It had been silly to imagine for a moment that her aunt would be anything less than supportive. She might have to keep reminding herself that Celestine wasn’t like other ninety-three-year-olds – not that she knew any others.
