Page 33 of The Little Island Flower Stall
Bella blew out an impatient breath. Why had she sent that last one?
I’ll check out the opening times and let you know.
Bella acknowledged his message and then locked her phone. Celestine was sleeping on the chair in front of the television. It had been an early start, and despite her determination to keep up with Bella, she’d nodded off almost as soon as they’d finished dinner. Bella wondered whether to wake her and tell her to go to bed, but then decided against it for the time being. If she wasn’t careful, it would really seem as if she was treating her aunt like a child who needed looking after, rather than a largely independent and smart relative who was only asking for some support to keep her precious business going. Bella’s urge to take care of her was strong, but that wasn’t why she was here. Celestine had come home from the hospital after her fall and taken care of herself for a good week before Bella’s arrival and she’d been just fine. Granted, she’d had a few visits from healthcare workers, but most of it she’d done herself.
Bella watched her sleep for a moment. She looked older and frailer without that shrewd, bright look she had when she wasawake. It was hard to imagine her now as a young girl, roaming the island, the rest of her life only a distant dream yet to come. How had she ended up with Bella’s great-uncle Roland? To Bella, they’d never seemed suited, and Dolly had told her earlier how Roland had been into Violette. He’d been more Violette’s age too, older than Celestine. And Celestine had known him the whole time – they’d been friends. Who had he sided with once Celestine’s friendship with Violette had ended? Clearly at some point he’d come over to Celestine’s side, but at first? Had their falling-out been something to do with him? When had he and Celestine moved from friends hanging around together to more than that? How big a part had Roland played in any of this?
So many questions Bella didn’t have answers to. She wondered if she ever would have answers. They certainly weren’t going to come from Violette or Roland, and it didn’t seem much more likely that Celestine was going to give them to her either. Her best chance of getting to the bottom of the mystery was, ironically, Rory. He wanted to know as badly as she did, and discovering more might ultimately shed light on Celestine’s life all those years ago. It would mean spending more time with him, and that was the bit that worried her. Perhaps worried was the wrong word, but there were misgivings. It was barely a week since she’d left Sean and she was thinking about another man. She reminded herself that she didn’t love Sean and he didn’t deserve a second of her thoughts now, but that didn’t make what she felt about Rory right or good for her. In fact, it might be the opposite of good for her.
She was close to texting Rory to tell him she’d changed her mind about their day out when he beat her to it with the opening times of the museum.
10–5. Shall we meet there at 1? So looking forward to it.
Bella chewed her lip, looking up from her phone at her sleeping aunt and then back again at the message. God, she wanted to go. She didn’t know what she wanted more: answers to all the questions buzzing around in her head or the chance to look at Rory’s infectious smile for an entire day. It was such a terrible idea, and yet she wanted to go more than anything.
Sounds good. 1 it is. See you there!
Telling her internal warning voice to shut up, Bella went to the kitchen to see if there was anything alcoholic in her aunt’s cupboards. A couple of drinks were in order, if only to stop herself overthinking the situation. It was a day out with pleasant company – that was all. What was the problem?
A thorough inspection of the cupboards proved to be disappointing. No booze. Bella had never known her aunt to be a big drinker, but she thought there might have been at least a dusty bottle of Christmas sherry lurking on a high shelf. Perhaps she kept some in the dresser in the living room. She supposed she could go out and find a shop that might still be open, but she didn’t want to go out in case Celestine woke up and worried about where she was.
Going back into the living room, Bella glanced over at her aunt, who was still sleeping on the chair. It didn’t look as if she’d changed position at all, and Bella decided she must have been exhausted. Perhaps it would be a good idea to wake her and persuade her to go to bed after all. Keeping hold of that thought, Bella went to the dresser and opened a few doors as quietly as she could to see what was in there.
Still no alcohol, but her gaze did fall on at least half a dozen large, leather-bound books of some kind. She pulled one from the shelf to find it was a photo album. Bella smiled as she opened it up. On the first page was a photo of Celestine and Rolandsitting in the garden together. They were smiling. They looked happy enough. Bella flicked through. There were lots of pictures of people she didn’t know, but her progress was halted when she came to one of a young boy of perhaps five or six.
At first it didn’t register who she was looking at, and then a grin spread across her face as she realised it was her dad. She’d never seen this photograph before. He was on St Rosa’s beach – Bella could tell from the buildings behind him which had since been modernised but were still instantly recognisable. He was in swimming trunks and a T-shirt, holding a bucket and spade with such a look of glee, it was all Bella could do not to break down in happy tears at the sight. Her lovely dad, looking so innocent, so happy, his whole life ahead of him and not a care for what his future might be. It struck Bella as wonderful but at the same time deeply melancholic that the little boy in the photo would have to grow up, that he would encounter happiness like this, but as many times as his life was good, it would be hard too. He would lose people and he would have lows that sometimes felt lower than the highs and, right here, at this moment, on the beach at St Rosa, he didn’t have a clue. Life was a sunny sky and a sandy beach and a head full of childish dreams.
A light clatter from the direction of Celestine’s chair shook Bella out of her musings. With a vague sense of panic, she stuffed the album back into the cupboard and shut the door, turning to see Celestine wake.
‘Drat…there go my reading glasses…’ she mumbled as she tried to reach for them on the floor where they’d fallen from her lap.
‘I’ve got them.’ Bella bent to snatch them up and handed them to her aunt.
‘Oh, I must have dropped off,’ Celestine said, taking them from Bella and putting them into a glasses case. ‘How exciting for you, eh? What excellent company I’m proving to be.’
Bella shook her head. ‘It’s been a long day. Even I’m a bit tired. I was just thinking of getting a nightcap and going off to bed, actually. I wondered…I couldn’t see anything in the kitchen, but I wondered if you had a bottle of something in the house…sherry or whisky or something. Even some wine, though I’m sure you don’t drink wine, do you?’
‘Not so much these days,’ Celestine said. ‘I’m not sure I have anything like that in. If you want, we can get some when we next go shopping. Unless you really needed one tonight, in which case?—’
‘Really, it’s fine; it’s not that big a deal. I suppose I’ll just make some cocoa. Do you want a cup while I’m there?’
‘That would be lovely, and then I ought to go to bed too.’
Bella went back to the kitchen, feeling oddly guilty as she poured milk into a saucepan for their drinks. She hadn’t done anything wrong, as such, so why did she suddenly feel as if she had?
No matter how many times Bella told herself she had nothing to hide, she hadn’t quite managed to tell Celestine about her plans to meet Rory. So when Sunday morning came, she got up early and went into the kitchen to find Celestine already up and dressed, and realised that if she was going to go, she was going to have to say something. She didn’t have to mention Rory, of course, but she would at least have to let her aunt know she was going to be missing for a good few hours.
‘Do you need me to be around today?’ Bella put her hand to the teapot on the table and decided it was still warm enough before pouring herself a cup.
‘I shouldn’t think so. Have you made plans?’
Bella gestured at the pot, and Celestine held out her cup for a refill. ‘Yes, is that all right? I mean, I won’t go if you?—’
‘Of course it’s all right! I didn’t ask you to come here to be my servant.’ Celestine smiled. ‘I’m grateful for any time you can spare to help at the stall, but I’m not expecting you to be at my beck and call. Where are you off to?’
‘I thought I might visit the underground museum.’
‘What museum?’
