Authors: Mary Ann Smart
Rose did not want Rodney to leave, but she also did not want to appear clingy. She had forgotten all about her plans to kiss him. Instead, she felt helpless, like a lonely child. He held her tightly when he said good-bye, but did not offer a kiss or any other romantic notions.
“You rest and relax here,” he told her. “Put your mind at ease and watch some TV. In three days, on Sunday, I will meet you in the lobby at noon. Don’t be late.”
Rose nodded and Rodney left. An hour later, Rose put her raincoat back on and grabbed an umbrella, which Rodney had loaned her. She then picked up her small handbag, which she had kept slung over her shoulder the entire time during the narrow escape with Mother. She went next door to purchase pajamas and undergarments, a simple dress and plain tennis shoes. Then Rose went to the drug store across the street for a toothbrush, toothpaste, and other necessities. Back in the hotel room, Rose took a hot bubble bath and settled into her fresh pajamas. She found that as long as she didn’t think about Lionel and her encounter with Mother, she could rest a little.
Rose had not opened a London bank account, so she had cashed all of her pay checks from Mrs. Douglass. Some of the money was in a jar in her room back at the Douglass house, but she still had over one hundred pounds in her purse. That, combined with the money from Rodney, left her with plenty.
In the hotel bed that night, Rose had trouble sleeping. Her thoughts kept going back to the horrifying encounter in the alleyway that afternoon when Mother had appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her. Rose still felt Mother’s grip on her wrists. She recalled with fear and a pounding heart how she had leaped between buildings to get away.
What would I have done if there was no place to go? Mother probably would have dragged me down the stairs by my hair. Then she would have shoved me into a cab and taken me to God knows where.
Rose realized with fear.
And what would I have done without Rodney?
What if instead of going to the restaurant to meet Rodney, I had gone back to the Douglass house to find Lionel and Julie and ask them for help? Lionel probably would have handed me over to Mother. What a miracle it truly was that I went straight to Rodney.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rose spent the
next two days in her hotel room. She only ventured out of her hotel room twice because she felt so on edge and anxious about the Douglass family and Mother. Once she went out to buy several necessities and then another time she walked to a small book shop across from the hotel to purchase a book of short stories. She spent her time reading, watching television, eating room service meals, and taking bubble baths. Rodney called her a few times a day to say hello and check on how she was doing. It seemed strange to do so little each day, but Rose enjoyed the peace after her traumatic encounter with Mother.
On Sunday morning, it was time to leave the hotel and meet Rodney. Scurrying about the hotel room, Rose gathered her things. She wrapped her pajamas and other items into a small bundle. Then she put them into a linen bag drawstring bag, which the hotel had provided to keep laundry in. She tucked the bag under her arm and surveyed the room to make sure she packed everything. Seeing nothing, she sighed. The whole ordeal on Thursday had filled her with frustration, hurt, and fear. Turning to a small table by the door, she snatched up the hotel key, left the room, locked the door, and dropped it into her purse.
It was a quarter ‘til noon when Rose settled onto a soft, velvet sofa in the hotel lobby. She already set the key on top of the front desk, but was waiting for Rodney to sign her out and close out the room tab. She leaned back onto the soft cushion, but still continued scanning the room. She was nervous out to be in public, just sitting there. It was a feeling she had not experienced since leaving New York.
“Please contact us if you see any young ladies matching this description,” a male voice spoke from across the room. Rose glanced over to the front desk, where she spotted the speaker. It was a tall, overweight policeman in a crisp black uniform. He was handing the front desk clerk a small, rectangular poster.
Curious, Rose craned her neck to take a peek at what was on it. The policeman lifted it up, and Rose’s heart sunk in her chest. It was a photograph of her face, from the day that she and Julie had gone to Westminster Abbey. Below the photo was some text. But the part that frightened Rose most of all was the large, bold type above the photograph.
MISSING
, it read.
Without even thinking about Rodney or anything else, Rose snatched up her bundle and her handbag. She rushed out of the lobby and out into the busy street. The policeman was still inside, chatting with the clerk.
Walking fast, Rose turned a corner and onto a side street. Her mind was racing with a multitude of thoughts, which all seemed to be jumbled together.
The Douglass family is looking for me. They want to collect their money from Mother. They want money for handing me over to Mother. They are searching for me. The police are searching for me. I need to go. I need to leave London. I need to get out.
Rose found a familiar street name and decided to walk north.
I can find a train station. I have some money. I can take the train into the countryside, like I did with Lionel. I need to get out of London, and fast.
Rose stopped walking, but her heartbeat quickened.
Shaking her head at the situation she was in, Rose hurried toward where she thought the station was.
I will figure something out,
she concluded. Rose continued walking, but with her head bent low. She felt paranoid that people were watching her.
What if someone recognizes me?
She wondered nervously.
“Stop, cab!” she yelled, raising her hand as a car raced by. He slammed on his breaks and stopped. Rose scooted inside and instructed him to go to the train station.
Digging into her purse, Rose fished out a small piece of paper that had her birth mother’s name and town scribbled on it. Rose’s heart longed for a place to go.
If only my birth mother had been willing to talk to me. If she had, I could go to her. I could be her daughter again and we could live together in her little cottage in the countryside.
Riding in the cab, Rose began to think about Rodney.
What will he think when I’m not there? I’m sure he’ll see the poster with my face on it and figure out that I hid. He’s smart. He’ll figure it out and he’ll understand. But how will I find him? He always calls me. I never call him. I don’t even know how to reach him.
Finally reaching St. Pancras railway station, Rose paid her driver and rushed onto the platform. She studied the train schedules, trying to find a train going north. She found one and headed toward the ticket office.
Rose looked up and spotted a policeman approach the platform where she sat. Frantically, she snatched up her things. Not knowing where to go or where to hide, she hopped onto the northbound train, the same one she had planned to take. She found herself in a long hallway with compartments on one side. Worried that the policeman might follow her onto the train, she ducked into an empty compartment and drew the shades closed. She waited a few moments, peeking out the window every so often, waiting for an opportunity to exit her hiding spot and go back onto the platform.
Suddenly, the train began to move. Rose could feel the blood draining from her face.
Well, I guess I’ll just buy a ticket at the next station.
Several minutes passed. Rose buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed by the situation she found herself in.
What station do I even get off at?
She wondered.
I know this train goes north, into the country. But where should I go?
“Tickets! Tickets, please!” came a male voice from the other side of the compartment wall.
Not sure if she could purchase tickets on the train, Rose sat down and decided to wait until the next station. She did not want to risk getting in trouble, and the conductor did not stop at her otherwise empty compartment.
At the next stop, Rose hopped out to purchase a ticket. There was a town which sounded far away enough called St. Albans, so she decided a buy her train ticket to there.
Back on the train, she settled down in her seat for the next half hour. Attempting to reread her book, Rose had trouble concentrating. Her mind kept going back to Lionel and her memory of the day they had taken the train to Kettering.
How could he do this?
Rose thought with anger.
How could he betray me like this? And all for money. He has money. His parents have money. But he would turn over his friend for cash. What a dirty liar he is. I feel disgusted just thinking about all the time I wasted on our fake friendship.
Rose realized that her hands were shaking from her anger.
“St. Albans! St. Albans city railway station!” came the conductor’s voice. Rose jolted out of her thoughts.
As the conductor’s voice faded away, Rose grasped her handbag and bundle. When the train stopped, she tucked herself into a small crowd of people and exited.
Looking down, Rose walked off the train platform. She walked down several streets until she found herself on a less busy avenue which was lined with red brick row houses. She walked past a grocery store, a bookshop, and a tearoom. She walked until she left town. Soon she found herself in a small village with a sign that read Parsonsborough. In the center of town was small, but very tall, stone church. There was a few shops here and there. She continued to walk and noticed small flower shop. In the window were vases full of cheerful daffodils and hyacinth. The beauty and color of the flowers reminded her of her birth mother’s garden.
Beside the flower shop was an inn. It was called The Shepherdess Inn and had a Tudor style design, complete with lattice windows. Rose went inside.
“How much would it be for a room for a week?” Rose asked the woman at the desk.
“Hm, a week,” the woman mumbled. “We don’t normally have anyone stay for a week. Let’s see. How about eighty pounds?”
“That will be fine,” Rose agreed with hesitation.
I’ll have to eat cans of tuna fish and beans with the little money I’ll have left.
Rose paid the woman and was shown to her room. It had a simple double sized bed with a pink and purple quilt and a lacey crocheted blanket. A small wooden table sat beside the bed. Old, floral wallpaper was on the walls. The bathroom was tiny, with a single sink, toilet, and stand up shower.
If I really do run out of money, should I call Mrs. Harrison? Maybe she isn’t involved in this mess with Lionel. But then, I don’t want her to get caught in the middle between me and the Douglass family.
Rose was getting a headache just thinking about it all. Deciding to leave the tiny room to get fresh air, Rose went outside for a walk. She stopped in front of the flower shop display window.
Drawn to the flowers, Rose stepped into the shop. A short, stout older woman with grey curls looked up and greeted her with a smile as she entered. “Hello, how can I help you, my dear?” the woman asked.
“I’m just looking, thank you,” Rose said in a polite tone.
The woman reminded Rose of Mrs. Harrison.
I wonder if Mrs. Harrison even knows I left the Douglass house,
Rose thought as she reached down to touch the delicate petals of a peony.
“Actually,” Rose said, turning back to the older lady who worked in the shop. “I was wondering if you need an extra set of hands for a few days?”
The woman appeared surprised, but she smiled in a polite and pleasant way. She thought for a moment.
“Actually,” she began. “I do have a large wedding on Saturday. I wouldn’t have to work so many late nights if I had a little extra help. Do you have any experience with floral arrangements?”
Rose frowned. “No, I don’t,” she told the woman. “But I’m a very hard worker and I’m a fast learner, too.”
The woman stopped for a moment to think. Finally, she spoke. “How does four pounds an hour sound to you?”
“That will be fine,” Rose told the woman. “Thank you!”
“Can you come in at nine in the morning tomorrow?” the woman asked.
“Absolutely.”
Rose chatted for a few more minutes before saying good-night with a promise to return the next morning. Back at the hotel, she borrowed the London telephone directory and used the lobby phone. Finding the phone number to Herald’s Jewelry shop, Rose dialed it. But the phone rang and rang with no answer. Finally, an answering machine picked up. A recording explained that the store was closed on Sundays.
Sighing, Rose tried to think of another way to get in touch with Rodney to let him know of her whereabouts. She looked up his name in the directory, but there was no listing. She finally gave up and decided to try to call the jewelry store in the morning.
That night in bed, Rose was relieved to be safe once more. She was eager to begin work at the flower shop the next day. Arranging flowers seemed so different from her job with Mrs. Douglass that it had a certain appeal. Rose was excited to try something new, a job where she could be creative.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rose worked hard
in the flower shop with the kind older woman, who was named Mrs. Grey. She worked for five days straight, six hours a day. Mrs. Grey showed her how the arrangements and bouquets were to be done, and Rose proved to be a fast learner.
Rose told Mrs. Grey that she was staying in town briefly, and the woman did not ask any questions about her situation. She commended Rose on her hard work and the two chatted pleasantly as they arranged flowers.
Rose was so busy on her first day of work that she completely forgot about calling Rodney. She tried calling his jewelry shop after work, but it was closed. The days passed by and Rose attempted to get in touch with Rodney several more times. But each time, he was off work or no one answered. Rose almost left a message for him, but did not want him to get in trouble for receiving personal calls at work.
After awhile, Rose decided to forget about reaching Rodney for awhile. Being in the small village of Parsonsborough was like being in another world. It seemed so detached from the busy city streets of London and New York, which was all Rose had ever known. She liked the quiet and the peace.
The wedding was Friday evening, and Rose helped Mrs. Grey load up the flower truck that would transfer the arrangements to the event. The flowers were mostly blue and pink hydrangeas and white calla lilies.
“Thank you so much for your help, Rose,” Mrs. Grey said to her. “I’ve appreciated your hard work. You are talented. Maybe you should consider a career in the floral industry.”
“Maybe,” Rose replied, mulling the thought over in her head. She had certainly never seen herself as a florist.
“Do stop by the shop sometime,” Mrs. Grey said after saying good-bye. “Good-night, Rose.”
Mrs. Grey gave Rose a quick hug. She felt a moment of warmth and love, comfort and safeness. It all made her miss Mrs. Harrison.
* * *
Shortly before going to bed on Friday evening, Rose sat in the small wood chair in her bedroom, glancing through the pages of an old book of Tennyson’s poems. Mrs. Grey had given it to her.
Rose found herself thinking about Lionel again.
This is all Lionel’s fault. That stupid liar. What a sneak. He’s the lowest of the low. He’s nothing but a freaking idiot. I’m stuck here in this tiny room because of him and his sneaky tricks.
She shook her head.
I’m sick of being on the run.
Rose realized that all of her hurt regarding Lionel’s betrayal had turned into anger. She still was in disbelief that someone who she thought was her friend could be so cruel.
Why don’t I just go to London?
She wondered.
I can find Rodney there since he has no idea where I am. I’ll go to Herald’s Jewelry Shop to find him. He usually works most weekdays and on Saturday. Tomorrow is Saturday, so it’ll be perfect.
Rose’s thoughts came to a halt when she realized one very important fact.
The whole reason why I left London was because I saw a missing person poster for myself. If I go back, someone may have seen it and could recognize me.
Frustrated, Rose pulled her legs to her chest and pursed her lips. “What to do, what to do?” she mumbled.
Hatching a sudden idea, Rose sat up straight and let her legs drop to the floor. She smiled, pleased with her plan.
I’ll go out first thing in the morning,
Rose decided.
It’s a simple idea, but I think it will work. Hopefully I’ll find Rodney tomorrow and then together we can figure out what I should do next.
Realizing that if she found Rodney she might be able to stay with him, Rose decided to pack all of her things, buy a small duffel bag in the morning, and check out of the hotel. Then she would not have to come back to Parsonsborough if Rodney would let her to stay at his house.
* * *
The following morning, Rose woke up when it was still dark outside. She took a shower, brushed her teeth, and towel dried her hair. Then she put on a cotton black dress with a grey sash.
I need dull colors for my plans today,
she had decided.
I don’t need to stand out.
Rose walked into St. Albans and went first to a women’s clothing shop. While there, she purchased a light scarf and a pair of black sunglasses. She then found a small hat section in a corner of the shop, where she purchased a wide brim straw hat with a thick, sage green velvet ribbon which tied under the chin. Last, Rose walked into a hair salon.
“May I help you, miss?” asked a young woman with pin straight black dyed hair and long red fingernails.
“Yes, I’d like to get my hair colored,” Rose told her.
“Okay, fine,” the woman replied. She led Rose back to a swivel chair and they discussed the desired hair color.
Rose finally decided on a deep, dark red. When the coloring was finished and Rose gazed at herself in the mirror, she was shocked.
“Wow, I look so different!” she exclaimed.
“Do you like it?” the hairdresser asked.
“Absolutely. Now, I was thinking about possibly getting a perm. I just want a whole different look,” Rose explained. “Will a perm take a while?”
“With hair your length, yes, it’ll take a bit of time,” the hairdresser replied.
“Maybe I won’t go with the perm, then,” Rose mumbled, disappointed. “I was planning to go to London right after this and I don’t want to get there too late.”
“I can curl your hair for you, if you would rather,” the hairdresser suggested. “Your hair is already a little curly, so it will be quick. The curls won’t last too long, but if I put a lot of hairspray in, it’ll last all day at least.”
“That sounds terrific!” Rose felted relieved.
After her hair was curled and hair sprayed, Rose stood up and paid. On her way out, she looked into a full length mirror.
Wow, I really do look different.
She popped her floppy hat on her head before walking out the door.
Rose picked up a duffel bag on the way back and went back to the inn. She packed up her things and checked out.
Hurrying to the station, Rose caught the train to London in St. Albans with only a couple of minutes to spare. She rode for over half an hour as her train car shifted and swayed. She used up almost every penny she earned at the flower shop on her train tickets, hair, and hat.
About halfway through the train ride, Rose went into the restroom and fixed her make-up. Earlier in the week, she had purchased everything from mascara to blush. She put on more make-up than normal. When she was finished, she backed up, put on her new hat and sunglasses, and stared at herself in the mirror.
“I don’t even look like myself anymore,” Rose mumbled, pleased with her disguise.
So far, my plan has worked.
She gazed in the mirror at her tight red curls, heavy make-up, sunglasses, and hat.
No one will know it’s me with all this on.
Arriving at the station in London, Rose hurried off the train and into a small café. Famished, she ordered a croissant with jam and a cup full of steaming black coffee. Then she calculated her plan to find Rodney and then walked around toward Green Park.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said to an elderly gentleman who was sitting near a group of men smoking cigars at an outside pub table. Surrounded by a cloud of smoke, his face was behind a newspaper. The other smokers appeared engrossed in conversation, so Rose had chosen him.
“Yes?” replied the man with a hint of annoyance as he lowered his paper to look at her.
“Do you know the best way to get to Herald’s Jewelry Shop?” Rose inquired.
“Why yes,” said the man, pausing thoughtfully for a moment. “I believe I do.”
He proceeded to give her a long list of directions, including street names and landmarks. Rose tried to remember as much as she could as she thanked him and ran off. Seeing a Tube station, she boarded a train. A few minutes later, she emerged from a train station and turned a corner, attempting to stay on track according to the old man’s directions.
As Rose walked, her face as tucked under her straw hat as possible, she began to notice bulletins being stapled or taped to the walls of some buildings. Most of these were advertisements for people who were searching for a new nanny or selling their piano. But then she spotted something that made her stop in her tracks. Rose suddenly felt her body grow cold from fear. There she was, her photo featured prominently on a missing person flyer. It was her face and a description of her physical appearance. Seeing this, Rose hurried along toward the jewel shop.
Rose found the jewelry shop and entered. She walked around for several minutes, but there was no sign of Rodney. Giving up on her plan of finding him in the shop, she approached a tall, older man with grey hair and glasses. He was wearing a smart looking pinstriped suit.
“Pardon me, sir?” Rose said to him.
“Yes, miss?” the man replied. “How can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Mr. Rodney Martin,” Rose requested. “One of the managers of this store,” she added.
“Oh,” the man said, his face surprised. “I’m afraid Mr. Martin has not been employed here for nearly a month. I am the assistant manager now.”
Rose’s mind was reeling.
What? A month? How can that be? He never mentioned it to me. How weird. Why wouldn’t he tell me that he left his job? Didn’t he just go to that jewel show in Paris for work?
Rose finally spoke. “Oh, wow. I didn’t know that. Well, may I by any chance get his phone number and home address?”
“I apologize, miss,” the man replied. “I cannot give out that information.”
“I understand,” Rose mumbled, feeling more and more confused. She thanked the man and left.
Walking out of the jewelry shop, Rose contemplated what she should do next. She wandered around nearby for a while, thinking about Rodney and how mysterious it was that he was no longer employed at the jewelry store, especially because he had not even told her.
There’s got to be some sort of explanation,
Rose told herself as she wandered down a quiet lane near the jewelry store.
I mean, he wouldn’t lie to me. Maybe he just forgot to tell me. There was a lot going on the last time I saw him. I was all freaked out because of all the crap with Mother. He probably was just trying to keep the conversation light. Maybe he was fired or something and he was just embarrassed to tell me. Yeah, that’s probably it. Rodney’s an honest guy. I know he would never try to lie to me or withhold information or anything. I’ll wait until I see him and then let him tell me in his own time. I won’t even bring it up or ask. He deserves to have my trust. After all, Rodney is the only person left in my life that I know I can trust completely.