Welcome to Rosie Hopkins' Sweet Shop of Dreams
Page 103

‘I think I’ve forgotten how to do buttons,’ said Anton sadly.
‘I’m sure you’ve forgotten how to do a lot of things,’ said Rosie, winking at him. ‘But I suspect it’s all about to come back to you.’
Anton was giggling smuttily when Peter and Stephen reached them.
‘Hello,’ said Rosie.
Anton smirked. ‘Rosie and I were just discussing … bedroom matters,’ he sputtered out. Stephen raised an eyebrow.
‘All part of the service?’ he said, and Rosie wanted to kick him. Instead she smiled tightly.
‘Hello,’ she said again. ‘Glad to see you’re both out and about.’
She hadn’t, she realised, seen Stephen properly outdoors before. She couldn’t help but admire how tall he was – and now, how straight his back. Then she told herself to put these ideas right out of her head. She’d been a passing fancy for him, nothing more. She steeled herself not to think about it.
‘You both look much better.’
Peter smiled at her. How odd, she thought, that he had spent his entire life married to the daughter of Lilian’s great love. Did he know? He must do. Was he happy?
‘Well,’ he said, as Anton lumbered off in the direction of Malik’s. ‘I’d better get back. She’ll be on the lookout for me.’
‘Hey,’ said Stephen. ‘Thanks for the walk. It’s hard to find … well, people who understand.’
Peter looked at him for a long moment.
‘People do understand,’ he said, strangely. ‘More than you think, young man.’
Stephen blinked.
‘What do you think he meant by that?’ he said as Peter turned down his lane. Rosie didn’t answer. ‘Is it one of those things about me being a spoilt idiot again?’
Rosie shrugged and didn’t laugh. He looked at her curiously.
‘So have your friends left?’ she said, for want of something better to say.
‘Yes,’ said Stephen carefully. ‘They have. They’ve gone back to London. But I’ve been thinking …’
He paused. Rosie couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help the little burst of excitement that leapt inside her now they were gone. It was stupid; he’d been awful and he hadn’t contacted her or anything to apologise or to mention it or – it was all too embarrassing for words. She kept her eyes on the ground.
‘I was thinking about what you said … You know, I do need something to do. Something practical to do with my life instead of sitting around moping. I see that now. So I’ve decided.’
At once Rosie knew what was coming. Unbelievable. Although, in a funny way, what would have been worse? Living in some rotten flatshare in London, starting over from the bottom, going out on hideous dates while knowing all the while that he was swanning around town living it up with CeeCee and Weapon and God knows who while she worked night shifts? Well, no. At least she wouldn’t be doing that.
‘You’re going down to London,’ she said, her voice sounding choked and husky.
Stephen nodded. ‘Get a change of scene. It’ll be good, don’t you think?’
His voice betrayed a hint of nerves. Rosie felt herself go shaky too.
‘Well, that’s good,’ she said, trying to sound cool and poised. ‘I’m sure it will be great.’
Stephen looked at her questioningly.
‘I’m staying here,’ she announced, very quietly. She almost couldn’t believe the words as they came out of her mouth.
‘You’re what?’ said Stephen.
‘I’m staying here. I’m buying out my great-aunt, so she can get looked after properly. Well, buying the business. Renting half the cottage. I’ll have to get a tenant as well. Then when Tina gets more together she can buy in too. We’ll be like the John Lewis version of a village sweetshop. But I’ve decided. I don’t … I don’t know if it will be for ever. And I don’t know if I can make a go of it. And I don’t know if it will make me happy. But.’
She looked around her, the frosty fields white in the morning mists, the sun glinting off the icy tops of the hills.
‘I … I like it here. I’m happy here. I have friends here. Some friends here. Some people who hate my guts, but I can live with that. And family. I have family here, and I don’t really have that anywhere else. So. I’m going to change. I’m going to stay.’
Stephen looked completely taken aback.
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘That’s a shame. That’s … oh. I thought maybe, you know, you’d show me round London a bit.’
‘I think the London I would show you and the London CeeCee will show you would be very different things.’
Stephen smiled. ‘I thought I was meant to be the chippy one,’ he said sadly. ‘But I’d hoped …’
‘What did you hope?’ said Rosie, suddenly furious. ‘That I’d do a naked dance in front of your chums? That I’d come up and give you a few handy shags before you got fully back in with your London set? That you could pick me up whenever I was of use to you and drop me afterwards?’
Stephen’s brow furrowed.
‘What are you talking about?’ he said.
‘You used me,’ said Rosie. ‘You used me when you were sick and you used me when you were getting better and I fell for it every bloody time. You’re not worth it.’ Rosie was furious. ‘I wasted … oh. It doesn’t matter.’
‘Wasted what?’ said Stephen, cross. ‘Wasted what? Sorry, was I wasting your time as well as the rest of the fucking town’s? Oh God, how long do I have to limp around being sorry? You seemed quite happy at the time.’
‘And now it’s over,’ said Rosie. ‘Well, thanks very much. It’s fine. I don’t need you and I don’t need anything. It is very unclassy not to call a girl. Very. Although I’m sure those tarts in London won’t give a toss.’
Stephen looked at her in disbelief.
‘Who uses a phone round here? Have you seen anyone use a phone round here? If you need something you go and get it. And get ignored and left in the lurch,’ he added, pointedly.
There was a silence. Nobody moved.
‘I have to be getting on,’ said Rosie, stiffly.
‘Fine,’ said Stephen. He stomped off the other way, his limp pronounced but, oddly, rather suiting him.