Rosie
“Rosie! This is simply impossible! Utterly unacceptable! You mustn’t let people treat you like that!” Mrs Irene Henderson banged her coffee cup onto the saucer with such force that half the drink sloshed out. She muttered under her breath, grabbed a napkin, and dabbed at the droplets, furious with herself for the outburst.
A gentle, dark-eyed woman with an easy smile quietly collected her bosss cup and, moments later, returned it filled to the brim, carefully setting it far from the ever-threatening heap of paperwork.
Thank you! And Im sorry, dear, Im not myself today. Rosie, my love, how can I help you?
How can you help? Rosie shrugged and poured herself a cup. She is still his mum.
And who are you? You raised that boy all these years. Never found time to sort your own life out. Now youre to stand aside? What does Max say about all this?
Nothing. He doesnt know.
Rosie! wailed Irene, as if someone had pinched her. How can you keep this from him? Hes the first who should know. Hes smack in the middle of it.
I didnt want to worry him. Theres his job, his exams, his dissertation, the family. Hes got enough to think about as is. Hes so anxious already.
Irene shook her head, eyes clouded with concern.
Look. Youre a grown woman, not for me to tell tales or offer advice, but let me interfere, just a touch. Rosie, youre wonderful! Ive known you for years and, honestly, I cant say a bad word about younot that anything ever springs to mind. But now, this is the time to be a bit, well, less than angelic. Set some boundaries. For Maxs sake. For your own.
Thank you for worrying about me. Ill think about it. Rosie smiled and reached for yet another report file. Work, after all, wont vanish merely because ones private life has gone off-piste. She sighed; lately, she was in no hurry to go home. Work was her quiet refuge, her peace shattered at home since her sister Susan’s arrival.
Rosie was the youngest, a little late arrival no one wanted but, by then, hardly expected or planned for. Her mother, Natalie, spent a week staring out the kitchen window at two in the morning, pondering heavy thoughts. With two older children already, a third was well, a third was daunting. One early morning, after a night tossing and turning, she heard a baby wail. It was the neighbour’s month-old son, but the sound struck Natalie like a shot, flooding her with dread and a curious relief as her hands flew protectively to her belly.
No, I cant
Rosie arrived as scheduled. At the hospital, the nurses couldnt help but smile at her.
Shes got her mothers smile already, that one. Look at hera proper charmer.
Natalie silently held her new daughter to her chest, examining this impish, petite girl who looked nothing like her older siblings. Both Susan and Alec had been towheaded, round, and loud as drumsjust like their father. Rosie, though, was darker, like Natalie herself; tiny and impossibly quiet. Nearly never criedonly a faint whimpering when hungry or uncomfortable, always apologetic.
Once they called her Rosie, no one ever called her anything else. Not even the sternest granny.
Her brother and sister, lets be honest, werent thrilled by the new arrival. True, a third child meant their family was finally bumped up the council flat queue and they got their own room, but still, Rosies presence was a persistent annoyance. They shooed her away, didnt want to play, and Rosiesensible to a faulteven took it in stride. Shed sit quietly with her colouring book and pencils in their room just to have their company. Natalie tried talking it over, but gave upthe age gap was too much. What teenager wants a three-year-old shadow?
Trouble started in the nursery. Rosie was pathologically kind. Shed hand over her fish fingers and Ribena at the slightest pleaher classmates exploited her shamelessly. Only after their family GP gave Natalie an earful did she catch on that her daughter was nearly famishedweight falling, always tired, always ill. From then on, the nursery nurse would sit Rosie beside her and ensure that every last pea made its way down the hatch. Rosie brightened and began bringing toys and (when she could find any) rationed sweets to pacify classmates riled by the loss of her lunch. Not a child in the nursery was as soft-hearted: shed baby ladybirds in the garden and cosset Miss Patricia the grumpy cleaner, whose only solace from her boozy husband was her time at work. And Rosie? A beam of sunlight on a cloudy day. Patricia, whod had no children herself, doted on her. Natalie, observing her daughters hugs for Miss Patricia at pick-up, would scold on the walk home:
Why are you glued to her, for heavens sake? Shes not family. Youre far too soft, thats what you are!
Rosie, hurrying to keep up with her mums brisk steps, would just smile. Tomorrow itd be the same again.
At the nursery graduation, Miss Patricia bawled her eyes out, then promptly changed jobs so she could become the schools cleaner at Rosies new primary. When Patricias husband finally ran off with his old flame and Patricia left to care for her sick mother up north, it was Rosie who cried, hugging her best friend goodbye.
Here you are, love, keep this. Patricia fastened a tiny silver locket around Rosies neck. When you look at it, think of mebecause I promise, Ill never forget you. If you ever need me, just write. Ill be there!
Rosie nodded, clutching at Patricia as if the connection could hold her in place forever.
School was rough. Rosie loved everyone, but not everyone was inclined to love her back. Good as gold, and about as assertive as a doormat. Natalie was regularly cross, unable to grasp how anyone could be so… passive. By then, the family was a bit better off. Rosie’s father had finally landed a decent jobenough for Rosie to retire some of Susans hand-me-downs, and even get a snazzy pencil case and fancy markers, though her best mate soon badgered them off her (to thick maternal disapproval). The markers were returned by the friend’s mum, and Natalie read her daughter the riot acttheres such a thing as kindness, but one mustnt forget oneself.
Rosie was a star pupilhelped everyone, always ready with an answer in class, quietly finished two or three exam papers in the time allotted for one. Teachers noticed. She left school with top marks and breezed into university.
By then, Susan and Alec were married, living elsewhere. Alec moved to another city, Susan came round only for Christmas or a roast dinner. Before long, all the care for her ailing father, then later their mum, fell onto Rosies shoulders. She never lacked suitors, but each eventually gave up waiting; Rosie didnt have time for even a stroll in the park, rushing home after lectures for cleaning, laundry, cooking, and constant care for her bedridden dad. Thanks was never forthcoming. Everything she did was expected. Her mum moaned: What, always with the smile? Whats there to be joyful about, honestly? Youre such a daydreamer.
Rosie just softly shook her head, stroking her fathers thin handhe couldnt speak since his last stroke, but would cry every time she touched him.
With Patricias locket in her fist, Rosie herself wept in the church at her father’s funeral, praying with all her heart that hed found peace at last.
Rosies mum followed five years later, after wringing every drop of patience and compassion out of her youngest.
Dont you see what the worlds like? Natalie moaned, refusing another spoonful of mashed potato. Arthritis had long since stolen her hands, pain leaving only exhaustion. Youll be chewed up and spat out, Rosie! You mustnt be such a pushover!
She knew full well her older kids had washed their hands, claiming work and families as excuses while their youngest bore all of it. Alec pleaded a distant job and expenses; Susan, not even that, visited to inspect their mum but did precious little else.
Why are these sheets musty? Changed them yesterday, did you? Should be every day! And look at those floors! What do you actually do all day? Poor Mum, what a mess…
Tethered between office and home, Rosie nodded. But she didnt smile anymore; the former cheerful girl was eroded to a faint shadow.
Rosie, why do you let her walk over you? Patricia, who dropped everything to help when she got wind of Natalies final decline, stroked Rosies head as she tucked into pastries.
Heaven above, Patricia, thats delicious!
Her old friends familiar smile cut straight to Patricias heart, and she hugged Rosie tight.
You say I let herwhat can I do, have a barney with her? Throw her out? Make her help? You know thats not possible. I just want Mum to have some peace at the end. Shes in pain enough as it is. Why add to it? Rosie burrowed into Patricias shoulder. How nice it felt to be loved, even just a little.
With Patricia around, life grew lighter. Even Natalie thawed, dropping some of her criticism of Rosie. In her last weeks, she apologised often, slipping away quietly in her sleepleaving Rosie with a crumb of hope that everything hadnt been in vain.
At the wake, Alec and Susans talk was all about inheritances, and Patricia, rattling crockery, finally exploded:
What kind of people are you?
Normal, Susan sniffed, adjusting her black headband. Weve got families, children. Rosies alone. What use have her for such a big place?
Rosie left the room without a sound. Alecs wife nudged him, but he simply waved her off.
Later!
The flat was split up sharpish. Rosie moved into a snug one-bed and finally breathed freely. She soon convinced Patricia to come to the seaside with her.
Patricia, look at this! Stunning, isnt it? Rosie stood on the pier, arms stretched, squinting into the sunlight.
Its not bad at all, Patricia peered at the crowds, the gulls, the boats and the endless sea.
Those two weeks in Brighton were probably the happiest either ever remembered.
Returning home, Rosie found a note from Susan. She dropped her bags and immediately set off to her sisters.
Susans place was a disaster zone; Susan herself, wild-eyed and red-faced, darted around wailing:
Hes left! Just up and gone! Can you believe it?!
Rosie surveyed the chaos, fished her two-year-old nephew Max from under the sofa (where hed hidden after so much crying), and took him to the kitchen. She quickly rustled up some food and fed him, half-listening as Susan bemoaned her ex, answering her own wild questions in a loop.
What was wrong with me? I ran a good home! Gave him a son! What more could he want?
Rosie stroked Maxs back, coaxing him to eat between his sobs.
Why bother? Hell eat when he likes! Susan reached for her son but Rosie gently nudged her hand away.
Sue, how about a cuppa? No use working yourself into a state. Hes not worth it.
Suitably distracted, Susan latched onto this and left the child to Rosie.
For months, Susan floundered through the aftershocks of divorce, leaving Max with Rosie for a little while. Rosie, using patient logic, convinced Susan to get on with things and hand the boy over as a stopgap. Max, away from the drama, finally calmed down, stopped weeping through the night, and even learned to smile. Susan visited the occasional weekend, did her checks, then zipped off to her important business, leaving her son with endlessly reliable Rosie. Neither Rosie nor Max were much surprised when Susan announced she was moving to London for workclaiming city proximity to her ex-husband was unbearable. She kept up for a bit, sending gifts and the odd message, then dropped out; only a text: she was remarried and expecting again. Rosie went to see Maxs dad, reassured him he could always see his son, and got him on a proper visiting rota. Susan had flatly opposed her ex seeing Max, but Rosie quietly ignored her. In time, Max and his dad became close, Max spending weekends with his new siblings and still living with his aunt. Rosie tried a couple of London visitsthey made plain Max was surplus to requirements. So she didnt insist.
Rosie accepted that her romantic prospects were a non-starter and channelled everything into Maxs upbringing. Two sports clubs, biology society, regular, and music schoolany opportunity Aunt Rosie could conjure, Max had. Max called her Mum Rosie with the same instinctive affection she showed him.
Summers were spent at Patricias place in Wiltshire, and now and then, when finances stretched, theyd holiday by the sea. Watching Max dart about, tanned and happy, among the local kids, Rosie caught herself thinking of him simply as her own.
She maintained what contact she could with Alec and Susanthey werent fussed, returning birthday texts with a perfunctory ta, ignoring letters altogether. When Susan eventually moaned about Rosie bringing Max for the wrong half-term, they just stopped going, sticking to the odd phone call or card.
A few years before Maxs A-levels, Rosie traded her tiny flat for a spacious three-bed on the edge of townnothing posh, but peaceful, good for school, and, most importantly, plenty of room for Max. They walked around their echoing new home, hollering from room to room as they chose their spaces.
Mum Rosie, are you happy?
Of course, darling. Youre herethats all that matters. Rosie draped her arm around him. Go, pick a room! This one gets the sun; the other doesnt. Take your pick!
Max did well at school. When his mum refused to put him up in London, he opted for the local universitymedicine, his ambition since year two. Rosie cut corners, scrimped and saved, found the best tutors; Max got in.
By third year, Max brought home his future bride.
Mum Rosie, this is Mary.
Rosie gave the blushing Mary a proper once-over, then pulled her in for a warm hug. Welcome, dear! Do you like cake? Ive made a good old Victoria sponge.
Oh, I do!
Splendid. So do I. Absolutely hopeless sweet tooth. Rosie winked, and Marys smile made the room brighter.
Susan didnt fancy her sons choice, saying so (at volume) at the wedding.
Far too much attitude for her own good! Mark my words, she’ll give you a headache! Its written all over her face!
Rosie only shook her head, brimming with affection as Max spun his bride about the dancefloor. She knew all about Marys so-called attitude. Mary was the girl who volunteered twice a week at a care home. Not a troublemaker, loved Max, determined and persistent where studies and work were concernedno one better for the job, in Rosies book. Mary and Rosie lived in perfect harmonyplenty to do, no time for pointless quarrels.
When Mary handed Rosie her newborn grandson a year later, they were all over the moon. Rosie doted on the baby and, ignoring the helpful advice of the newly arrived Susan, was a fount of wisdom for Mary who, undeterred by her mother-in-laws grand opinions, went first to Rosie with every question. This left Susan miffed enough to flounce out, slamming the door and vowing never to return.
She broke that promise soon enough, landingno explanationson Rosies doorstep:
Ill be staying with you for a while.
Whats happened? Rosie fussed as she settled Susan in. Falling out? What about the kids?
Oh Rosie, do pipe down. The less you know, the better The divorce is done. The children stayed with their dadschool, all that.
Rosie shook her head and tried to make Susan a cup of strong tea. Susan pushed it aside: You drink it. No use for me. Wheres Max?
At uni. Marys taken Alex to visit her mum.
Never in, that girl. Always dragging the baby about in the cold. Anyway, I need a napgo away.
From that day forward, peace in Rosies house evaporated. While Rosie worked, Susan bombarded Max and Mary with complaints. Mary, knowing Rosies health was suffering, said nothing, no matter how tired she got. But Rosie soon cottoned on and confronted her sister. She already knew Susan had cheated, booted out by her husband, the children wanting nothing to do with her. Any money shed got from selling their mums old flat had long since disappeared on her adventures. With nowhere else, Susan holed up with Rosie.
So, what next? Rosie placed two mugs on the table.
Live here, Susan replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Thats not really fair, is it? Rosie attempted reason. You dont like Mary. Shes Maxs wife and mother to his son. What are you after? For them to split up?
So what if they did? Hell find another. Plenty of Marys about
No! Rosies reply was so firm it made Susan flinch. Thats not right, Susan.
Oh, here we goMiss Kindness knows best! Really, Rosie, if youd spent less time being a doormat and more time with your own life, maybe youd know whats right. Look at youno family of your own, how would you know? That Mary has an agenda, mark my words.
Oh, rubbish! Shes studying to be a doctor, just like Max. Might even outshine him.
Dream on, Susan muttered. Be serious, Rosie. Instead, think about sleeping arrangements.
Youre in the biggest room, whats wrong with that?
But its a thoroughfare! That kids always trundling through. Cant rest, cant think.
But its crowded in their roomhe’s just a baby, he needs to move about.
He should play outside.
Right, Susan, Rosie finally got stern. If were going to live together, we need to get along
By all means! So go chat to your golden girl and tell her to look after her own child, and make it clear Ill stay wherever my son is. If anyones unhappy, they can jog onnot my problem.
And me? Rosie smiled, but for the first time it was an empty, chilly smile.
Dont get dramatic, Rosie. The two of us have nothing to fight about. Susan swept out, ending the conversation.
The very next day at work, Rosie absent-mindedly put salt in her coffee instead of sugar. Mrs Henderson spat it out, and after much spluttering, gently extracted Rosies troubles. After that chat, Rosie went home, bracing herself for yet another showdown.
This time, as she opened the door, raised voices hit herthe usual: Susan shouting, the baby crying. Rosie strode straight into the room to see Mary holding Alex, Susan ranting and waving her arms.
Whats this racket? Rosies quiet voice landed like a firecracker. Susan stopped cold.
Youre home early?
I asked youwhats going on? Rosie didnt look at Susan, but at Mary.
Its fine, Mum Rosie. Ill settle Alex and tidy up.
Only then did Rosie notice the smashed vase on the floor, bits of glass everywhere.
Goodness! Did Alex cut himself? Rosie rushed over, but Mary burst into tears and bolted, baby in tow.
See what I mean? Absolutely hopeless! Ill fight tooth and nail to take Alex away from herhell be safer! And Max must see sense
Susan fell silent as Rosie, for the first time ever, looked ready to explode.
Youll pack your bags, and I couldnt care less where you go, Rosie said, terrifyingly calm.
And why would I, exactly? Thats up to Max! Hes my son, this is his home, so hell decide!
What am I deciding? Max, just home from work, took one look and came to stand beside Rosie.
Love, shes booting me out! Ive nowhere else. Say something! Im your mum, your true family.
Are you, though? Max put his arm around Rosie, feeling her shake. This is my familyRosie, Mary, Alex. I barely remember you, and thats no mistake. Since you arrived, theres been nothing but drama. Enough. Rosies right. Time to move on. MumRosiewheres Mary?
Putting Alex to bed.
Ill help. He kissed Rosies head and hurried off.
Rosie stared at Susan, standing lost in the middle of the room.
So thats it? He sides with you now? All your faultyou snake in the grass!
Susan Rosie sighed, wiping a tired hand over her face. When will you start listening to anyone but yourself? Other people live here too, with thoughts and feelings and their own lives.
Oh, youve always been the understanding one. Unlike me. Cant help it. Why should I change when everyone else could just fit around me instead? Look at youwhats it got you?
And whats it got you? Rosie looked straight at her sister. Wait right thereIll get the broom and your slippers. Youll slice your feet otherwise.
She then walked Susan to the station. Susan, defeated, was off to Alecs.
Returning home, Rosie collapsed at the kitchen table, thinking it wouldnt kill her to have a sandwich before bed. Her stomach was certainly on strike, but she had absolutely no energy to fight on. Talking things over had never been her strong suit.
Mary ducked into the kitchen, immediately busying herselfnot that Rosie ever left the fridge with more than a smidge remaining. Heating up a proper meal, Mary set the plate before Rosie and sat down, quiet.
Feeling better? Rosie poked at the stew, then brightened. Really tasty. Thank you, love. Im absolutely done in tonight. Too tired for words. But tell mewhy did you burst into tears and run off?
Marys eyes filled again as she took Rosies hand.
It waswhen you rushed to check Alex was okay. I could see who really cared, straight away. He was so scared when he dropped the vase! Sorryit was mine, Ill buy you another.
Oh, for goodness sake, dont fret about it! Is he alright? And you?
No cuts. I scooped him up just in time.
But how did the vase end up on the table in the first place? I distinctly remember putting it out of reach.
Susan said the child had no right to touch her things, and shed arrange things to suit herself. I watched Alex all day, but I wasnt quick enough this time. Mary reddened, eyes dropping.
What happened? Rosie asked, sharp concern in her voice.
I felt sick suddenly, only just made it to the loo. He slipped away before I knew it.
Youre not ill? Rosies brow furrowed.
No at least I hope not Mary stammered.
Oh, stop dithering. Is it a baby? Rosie gave an exhausted, genuine smile for the first time that day.
Mary nodded, meeting Rosies sparkling eyes.
And is that what youre worrying about? You daft thing, thats marvellous news!
I thought youd be cross
Ive never been cross, have I? Never! Rosie stood and wrapped her daughter-in-law in a proper hug. Im delighted, Mary. Absolutely thrilled! Another little one to fill the house and keep Alex company. Itll all work out. Dont worry about your studieswell sort it between us.
Mary nodded, leaning into Rosie, mindful of how lucky she was to have such a mother-in-law.
A sleepy Max poked his head in and gathered them both up for a hug. Midnight conference? Dont you ever sleep?
Were considering it! Not sure what your excuse isearly shift tomorrow, yes?
Night shift, then lectures. Just a regular day.
Well, off you both go! If the alarm doesn’t get you, Alex certainly will. And no contest wholl holler first.
Rosie shooed them away, clicked off the light, and wandered to the window. Rain tapped gently on the sillsoothing, lulling. Across the estate, a few lights twinkled onlife going on behind every small square of glass, everyone with their own share of troubles and joy. Rosie smiled to herself. Her happiness was currently snoring away, threefold, in the other room. Or, she corrected herselfa thoughtful grinfour, now.
She looked up at the pale-tinged sky, clutched Patricias locket, and whispered to the universe:
Look after them. Please.
Still smiling, she headed to bed.
