The Runaway Bridesmaid: An uplifting summer romantic comedy (Living the Dream series) by Daisy James

Author:Daisy James [James, Daisy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

The following day, Rosie awoke to the May sky sending a cascade of rivulets down the windowpane and a rhythmic concerto on the thatched roof. But she was paralysed. Her limbs refused to respond to her brain’s insistent requests to move. She rolled onto her right side and her neck and shoulders screamed their fervent objection.

Realisation dawned as she hobbled like an old crone to the bathroom. She negotiated the stairs as a novice mountaineer would, sideways, clinging onto the banister as every stretched muscle complained of its extreme treatment during the horticultural workout the previous day.

She set the kettle to boil and went to survey the damage in the hallway mirror. Apart from her golden hair – more haystack than slick-back – she wondered if she was becoming a younger version of her aunt and realised that she really must go shopping for clothes. At the very least she needed something for her date with Angus; her only choices were either her black jeans, fresh from a day in the garden, or the black work suit she had worn for her aunt’s funeral.

Of course, there was always something vintage from her aunt’s wardrobe. Lauren would positively encourage that avenue of sartorial elegance – but she didn’t have the eye her friend had, nor her gift with accessories. She also wasn’t sure how she felt about wearing her aunt’s clothes for a number of reasons.

There would be no gardening today. She knew mud was beneficial for the skin, but she didn’t need to take a bath in it.

The bulbous grey clouds spilled their contents determinedly, inundating the garden with random puddles, their surface reflecting the leaves and branches and the dark pewter backdrop. Each leaf of the rhododendron bush and the magnolia tree had been decorated with a slick aquatic sheen. The sky as far as the horizon was laden with an iron-heavy mist and the oppressive meteorological pressure dulled her spirits, so the decision was made for her that today would be the day to tackle the unpalatable task of sorting through her aunt’s personal possessions.

As the ceaseless drizzle continued, Rosie spent the morning in Bernice’s rose-chintz bedroom. The downpour matched her emotions as she recalled how her aunt had seemed so vibrant and alive when Rosie was a child, full of energy and passion for her children’s book illustrations and her love of horticulture. When she glanced through the rain into the garden, she knew her aunt’s spirit lingered on amongst the laburnum arbour.

Rummaging deep into her aunt’s huge oak wardrobe, she came across several floral printed Jean Muir silk tea dresses. She took a few photographs on her phone and sent them to Lauren, asking her whether she should donate them to the local thrift shop or haul them back to the US for Lauren’s delectation. Of course, she regretted the spontaneity of her request for advice, as, had she thought about it in any detail, Lauren’s immediate response would have been predictable. She demanded Rosie retain every item, and asked if there were any more.

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