My Name Is Rose (6 page)

‘I could whip the pants off any of those whipper­snappers,' Uncle Aleksandar snorted, jumping from his seat and throwing punches at the air. But his protests were hollow. He quickly settled back down to whittling wood or swapping channels on his treasured television.

Aunt Mirela certainly loved him, and he loved her too. Just as Esme and Nicu had loved each other. Rose was convinced that Mr Luca didn't love his wife, and she couldn't understand how his wife could possibly love him. She had never met anyone so disagreeable, nor anyone who so shamelessly used and abused people.

He had hidden himself away for the remainder of the afternoon, catching up on business matters, he said, until dinner was served, when he complained about the food being too salty and cold. The only person who seemed to escape his ill humour was his daughter. She indulged him nauseatingly and was indulged in return.

Mrs Luca had spent the afternoon slowly showing Rose around the house and gardens, saying, ‘We'll take it very steadily, and you must let me know if it's too tiring for you. We can't have you overdoing things the minute you arrive.'

Rose was flabbergasted that one family could live all alone in such an abundance of wealth and space, and wondered why they needed so many rooms for themselves. When she was shown to her own room, she could only stand in the doorway and stare. The bed was big enough for six people! There was a dressing table with three mirrors, and several brushes and combs were laid out on its ornate top. There was an armchair that looked far too decorative to sit on, and a huge wardrobe and chest of drawers for her to keep her clothes in.

‘We'll go shopping as soon as you feel strong enough and fill them up for you,' Mrs Luca suggested. ‘I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you? And Victoria can come with us to help choose. Victoria knows what young people are wearing at the moment. We don't want you to look out of place, do we?'

She patted the bed and indicated that Rose should sit down with her. Rose did as she was asked, perching uncomfortably on the edge.

‘We want you to be happy here, Anna,' Mrs Luca said. ‘We want you to think of us as your family. I know it will be hard for you at first, but I hope that in time . . . We can't replace your real family, of course, but we'll do our best to make you feel at home.' She gazed at Rose. ‘Can you say something, Anna? Can you tell me how you feel?'

Rose was shocked. The direct question took her aback, plunging her into turmoil. She got up from the bed and stood helplessly in the middle of the room, pushing her fist against her mouth. Mrs Luca came up to her and tried to hug her.

‘I'm so sorry,' she said. ‘That was foolish of me. I won't ask you again. You don't have to talk until you're ready.'

A noise behind them made them both turn.

Victoria was hovering in the doorway. She cleared her throat and said, ‘Is it my turn to have some time with you now, Mummy?' She looked Rose up and down. ‘You'll be all right on your own for a bit, won't you?'

Rose nodded, more than grateful for the suggestion.

‘Of course, darling. I'm coming now,' Mrs Luca gushed. ‘Why don't you put your things away and have a rest before dinner, Anna?'

Rose nodded again and watched them leave. As they did, she heard Victoria say to her mother, ‘She's not another of your projects, is she, Mummy? She looks like a Gypsy to me.'

Chapter 11

The one thing that excited Rose about her tour of the Lucas' estate was the stable yard and horses. She had grown up with horses and had learnt to ride at a very young age, cradled at first between Nicu's powerful arms, then taking off on her own as soon as she was strong enough to grip with her legs. Philippos was a gentle giant of a horse, who had been with the family since Rose was three and could only manage to call him Peepops.

One day, Esme told her that ‘Philippos' meant ‘friend of horses'. Rose thought this was hilarious.

‘He's a horse!' she cried. ‘Of course he's a friend of horses!'

She loved to ride him bareback across fields, galloping through the high grass, and along empty country lanes, lulled by the
clip-clop
of his hooves. There was no feeling like the sense of freedom it gave her, and she knew Philippos loved it too. His head bobbed up and down, his ears were alert and he whinnied softly over and over again.

When he pulled the wagon, he obeyed Nicu's every instruction, tuning in to the sound of his master's voice, happy to be tethered to his family's home. At night, he stood quietly by the side of the wagon, like a sentry on guard, while his family slept.

Philippos was dead. Rose caught a glimpse of his long white mane as he reared and screamed. She blanked her mind.

Mr and Mrs Luca owned ten horses! There were hunters and hacks and cobs of all sizes and colours. Rose was instantly drawn to a chestnut cob and walked over to stroke its flank.

‘Do you like to ride?' Mrs Luca asked her.

Rose nodded.

‘Then you shall.' Mrs Luca smiled. ‘But that horse, Snooty, belongs to Victoria, together with Griffin, the grey she's taken out. What about this one here? He's called Kosta. He's not too big and has a sweet temperament.'

Rose was disappointed when she saw that Mrs Luca was pointing to a piebald pony, and wanted to tell her that she was perfectly capable of riding a much larger horse. She pulled a face, which Mrs Luca took to mean that she thought the pony was too big.

‘Or this one, then,' said Mrs Luca, moving to the next box, where another, smaller pony was shaking its head.

Rose shrugged, losing interest, and saw a flash of irritation cross her guardian's face.

‘I'm doing my best here, Anna. Try to show some enthusiasm.' Mrs Luca walked purposefully away from the boxes, before turning to say, ‘I'll tell you what, you can ride each of the ponies and then make up your mind. Is that all right?'

Rose nodded and made an effort to look pleased.

‘As soon as you're stronger, we'll walk you round the yard with them.'

Satisfied that she and Rose were in agreement, she started to head off in the direction of the gardens. They rounded the corner of the stables just as a tall, dark-haired boy was striding towards them. He was carrying a bucket, which caught Mrs Luca on the shin.

‘You fool!' she cried, bending down to rub her leg. ‘Didn't you see us coming?'

‘I'm very sorry, ma'am,' he spluttered. ‘No, I didn't see you.'

‘Hurry up and get on with your work, then. The ponies both need mucking out.'

‘Yes, ma'am. I was about to see to it. It's good to have you back, ma'am.'

‘Yes, I'm sure,' replied Mrs Luca.

The boy touched his fingers to his forehead in a vague interpretation of a salute, glanced quickly at Rose and hurried past them.

‘Nothing but trouble, that one,' Mrs Luca said to Rose as they proceeded towards the gardens. ‘Unless we nag him, nothing gets done. I don't know why we keep him on, except that he has nowhere else to go, and I like to provide work for people from our home country. He came over here with his sister, but she found herself a husband and didn't want him hanging around. I'd rather you didn't mix with him, though. I don't want you mixing with the servants.'

She shot a look at Rose. Rose wasn't sure whether she was expecting an answer or not, but nodded anyway. She had no intention of mixing with a strange boy. She knew too well that her parents wouldn't have approved if she did.

She trailed along beside Mrs Luca, who led her through an area of formal gardens, telling her about all the work she had had done since they moved in eight years before, and pointing out rare and unusual plants she had had flown in from different parts of the world. The centrepiece was a long, rectangular pond surrounded by a low stone wall, home to numbers of large orange and red-and-white fish.

‘The fish are my husband's,' Mrs Luca told Rose. ‘They're koi carp. Ugly things, I think, but he's passionate about them. The colours make some of them very valuable. Very valuable indeed.'

Rose peered into the water and was amazed at the size of some of the fish. One came close to the edge, rose to the surface and opened its mouth. Rose smiled. She could see right down its throat.

‘It'll suck your finger if you put it in the water,' said Mrs Luca.

Rose didn't think she'd like having her finger sucked and shook her head.

They continued through an archway into a walled kitchen garden, where neat rows of vegetables and herbs were growing. At the far end, a man with long black hair tied back in a ponytail was digging up potatoes.

‘Ah, there you are, Goran,' Mrs Luca called. ‘How are things?'

‘Good day to you, ma'am. I'm delighted to see you back safe and healthy,' replied the gardener. ‘The place hasn't been the same without you. And is this the young lady you've rescued?'

‘This is Anna. She's come to live with us as one of the family. Are those for our dinner?'

‘They certainly are, ma'am. Straight from earth to pot, just as you like them.'

Mrs Luca simpered. ‘Goran is an absolute find,' she said to Rose. ‘What he can't grow isn't worth growing. We rarely buy vegetables or herbs from the super­market. Our own are far superior.'

Rose remembered how her family used to comb woods, fields and hedgerows for their vegetables, fruit and herbs. She and Rani would pounce with glee when they found a mushroom or blackberries or wild garlic. Her family had earned money by picking peas and beans, and the farmers were always generous enough to let them take some away. One of Rose's favourite jobs was shelling peas, though she would often attract Esme's wrath for pinging the last one from a pod at Rani. Rani was a hopeless shot and rarely managed to hit her back.

‘Shall we have peas as well?' Mrs Luca asked.

‘If ma'am wants peas, then peas she shall have,' replied Goran. He grinned broadly and, much to Rose's astonish­ment, winked at Mrs Luca, who blushed and turned away.

‘We'll be eating early,' she said. ‘Be sure to get the vegetables to Marina as soon as possible.' She hurried Rose back through the gardens. ‘Goran used to keep the gardens of a government minister back home, but lost his job when the minister lost his. He came to England for a change of life and I found him working in a garden centre. Of course, he jumped at the chance of working here.'

They headed towards the stables. Victoria was there, lifting the saddle from her horse, with Crumble the dog sitting by her feet.

‘Did you have a good ride, darling?' Mrs Luca called, a signal for the dog to come rushing over to her, yapping furiously.

‘Yes, until some idiot blew his horn and frightened the life out of us,' she replied. ‘I could have been thrown off for all he cared.'

‘I do wish you'd stick to the paths and fields,' Mrs Luca said, frowning.

‘That's for babies and novices,' snorted Victoria, staring directly at Rose. ‘I suppose you've already told her she can learn to ride if she wants.'

‘I believe Anna has ridden before.'

‘Well, she's not having one of my horses. She'll never ride one of my horses.'

Before Mrs Luca could respond, Victoria threw down the saddle, called for Crumble to follow and stalked off towards the house.

Chapter 12

When she woke up, Rose didn't know where she was again, nor what time it was. The room was dark, but a sliver of light from a gap she had left in the curtains told her it was morning. Once she had made sense of her surroundings, she wondered what she was supposed to do.
Should I stay in bed and wait to be told? Or should I get up and go downstairs?

She could at least find out what sort of day it was, she decided. She crossed to the windows and peered through the curtains. It was pouring with rain – a fine, dense rain that obscured all but the immediate vicinity. Rose remembered what had happened during the night and became anxious about seeing Mr Luca. She resolved to put the moment off for as long as possible and stay in her room until someone came for her.

The house was so quiet.
Is everyone else still sleeping?
It had never been quiet in the wagon, even when they were deep in the country. There were the cries and scufflings of nocturnal animals. In the early hours of the morning there would be the crow of a cockerel, or jays would drop pine cones on the wagon roof. Nicu's snoring spread intermittently through the night, joined in a chorus by Esme's snuffles and Rani's mumbling. Rose had been so used to it that its absence disturbed her more than the cacophony itself. Esme said that Rose sometimes wailed in her sleep, as though caught up in a terrible dream from which there was no escape.
If I wail in my sleep now
, Rose thought,
it will be because the dream is real
.

A knock at the door sent her scrambling back to bed. She sat up against the pillows as the door opened slowly.

‘Miss Anna? Are you awake, Miss Anna?'