Page 121 of The Man Upstairs

The roads were beautifully lit as we made our return to the dregs of our usual life. Every mile on the return felt like a travesty, as though neither of us belonged there. I was tempted to turn the car around and seek out somewhere else for us right there in the moment, but I remembered the hurt in Rosie’s eyes at the thought of ever leaving her mother. I couldn’t do that to her. When and if it was time to leave Crenham would be Rosie’s decision to make. In the meantime, Crenham would have to do.

It was dark when we arrived back at the apartment and opened the door. I reached inside for the light switch, and something scuffed against my shoe as I stepped on in. I bent down to pick up the roll of cash, bound up in what looked like a hair tie. I was pondering over it when I saw Rosie’s expression. She choked back a sob as she tried to keep her voice steady.

“That must be from my mum.” She took the cash from my hand, staring at it in horror. “I put some through her letterbox, because I knew she’d be struggling with the bills, and I wanted her to be safe, and I wanted her to keep taking my help… but she doesn’t want it… now she’s got paid she’s giving it back, but she must need it, though. She must.”

I followed the thread and pulled Rosie close. It wasn’t about the money, of course, it was about what it symbolised. A rejection of help. A rejection oflove.

“She doesn’t want it, because she doesn’t wantme,” Rosie cried, and I could have cursed out loud at her poor kind heart being broken.

“It’s not that she doesn’t want you, sweetheart, it’s that she’s angry atme.”

“I was angry at Scott too, and a whole load of the other pricks she was with over the years, but I didn’t push her away because of it, did I? I still loved her.”

“And she still loves you. She just can’t accept me. You’re her little girl. Little being the key word here.”

Rosie pulled away from me and wiped the tears from her eyes. She took a deep breath and her gaze changed from sorrow to strength, right before me.

“We’ll see how much she loves me then, won’t we? Because I’m not letting you go. If Mum really loves me, she’s going to have to love you, too.”

With that, she headed on into our living room and dropped her pretty butt down on our treasured chesterfield. She patted the seat beside her.

“I mean it, Julian. This is my home now.Youare my home. And if Mum wants to come and visit us, she can do, it’s just one flight of stairs. But I’m not running back down to my old life there. I couldn’t do it, even if I wanted to. You’re way too important.”

I sat down next to her and took her hand in mine, very, very relieved at her words.

Rosie wasn’t the only one who couldn’t head back to her old life. Mine was already burned to dust for all time. There was no doubt about it. My instincts had been right all along.

If my angel Rosie turned her back on me now, I’d do nothing but rot in hell.

Chapter Thirty-One

Rosie

I’d seenpictures of Peter, but people always seem to look different in person. He was short, and thick set, with huge shoulders and some really impressive biceps on him showing through his t-shirt. His eyes were a lovely deep blue and his stubble was rough, which suited him. I’d heard plenty of stories about how fun he was from Lola, and how loud his laugh was, but I could tell as he shook Julian’s hand that he was anxious, as though he was at a job interview rather than coming to hang out with some new friends. I saw then what Lola had been talking about. The world of Dine’s Green must have put him through a hell of a lot of judgement and heartache.

Julian tried to make him feel right at home as soon as we’d made our introductions and Lola had pulled me in for a hug. Lola was the counter to him right now, excited and buzzing, commenting on how cool everything was as she stepped into our living room.

“I love your sofa!” she said, pointing to our old one, and I grinned at her.

“Me too.”

“It’s not all that great to sit on,” Julian chuckled.

“Can I try it out?” Lola asked, and Julian gestured with a smile.

“Be our guest, since you are one.”

She dropped down and bounced her butt on it, rearranging the brocade cushions behind her as Peter hovered, awkward, watching her. He was beaming, though. She had him transfixed as a partner, and that was obvious. No surprise though, as she looked amazing, with two braids, tied up with purple ribbon. Her dress was purple to match, and she had big black boots on, at odds with her long, skinny legs. She always looked fantastic. No wonder Peter had gone crazy for her. For her looks as well as her mind.

“This sofa is absolutely great,” Lola said. “You’re being harsh.”

“Most likely,” Julian replied, and then he slapped Peter kindly on the shoulder. “What would you like? Tea? Coffee? Wine? Whisky? How about you, Lola? What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have a wine if there’s one going, please,” she said.

“Of course. Red or white?”

“White, please.”