Page 49 of Rescuing Rosie
Rosie’s phone screen was covered in red blobs, as if it had suffered an outbreak of acne. Ashley had delivered the backpack first thing this morning, along with breakfast. He’d been amazed to find her already up, hobbling about the room. Her ankle was still sore, but she was able to put her weight on it for a second or two.
He shooed her back into bed for breakfast, and after tucking in to another full English, during which time her phone charged up, she began to read through her messages.
Amara, asking her to call ‘re Guy’s proposition’; a similar one from her agent re ‘the Madison Tyler autobiography’; lots of likes for the photo of the Xanadu she’d forgotten she posted on Saturday night, several notifications that she’d been tagged by @madisontylerofficial … and Reuben’s voice message, still unopened.
Without thinking too hard about it, she played the message, putting it on speaker, which somehow felt less intimate.
Rosie – hi, it’s me … [quite a long pause] Hey, I’m sorry. Can we talk? I just … I kind of lost it – overreacted, I guess. I’d honestly had it up to here with your book, just … you know – over it. You’re a pretty good writer, Rosie. You’ll write anotherbook. Someone will publish it. Can we put it all behind us and move on? I rang your office and they said you’re away. Let me know when you’re back, and I’ll come over so we can talk. [another pause] I miss you. Anyway … call me, yeah? Bye.
Rosie was astonished at how unmoved she was by his voice. And at how many fucks she didn’t give about his thoughts on her writing future. Or how little she cared if he missed her.
Another message; a text from Ashley.I’ve booked you in for a massage, 10am if that suits?
By nine, she’d managed to shower, wash her hair, dress, and deal with her work emails. She was sitting in the window, beginning to type up notes about the wonderful experience of a wellness weekend at Grasmere Heights, when there was a knock on the door. ‘It’s Ashley.’
She limped over, reminding herself to ask him for more painkillers, and opened the door to find not only Ashley, but also Dale, holding a pair of crutches.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ said Ashley, scuttling away.
What the hell?
Rosie watched him leave, then looked at Dale.
‘On loan from the docs,’ he said. ‘Ashley insisted I should deliver them myself.’
Rosie couldn’t bring herself to tell him to go away, given yesterday’s heartbreaking revelation. Instead she opened the door wider and said, ‘I have tea and coffee making facilities, if you’d like a cup?’
He stood on the threshold looking awkward.
Unusual; very un-Dale.
‘Yes, a brew would be nice.’
‘Can I have those?’ she said, nodding at the crutches.
He passed them over, and she slid her arms through the rings, then moved across the room to the kettle.
‘I’ll do that,’ said Dale, following her in. ‘You sit down.’
She lowered herself into a chair and rested her bandaged foot on the bed, watching him. He was looking lush, in jeans and a pale blue shirt. When the cups of tea were ready, he passed one over and remained standing. ‘Rosie …’
She frowned. ‘Haven’t we already had this conversation? But yes, a car trip around the lakeswouldbe nice.’
He looked her in the eye. ‘I had a chat with Ant last night.’
Her heart skipped a beat. ‘Oh?’
He smiled. ‘You get that he’s totally the nicest person on the planet? But also quite boring, especially when be bangs on about safety. And he’s not nearly as good-looking as me. Obviously.’
‘I’m sorry?’ Rosie shook her head a little. ‘What?’
‘And for some reason, he seems to think he needs my okay …’
Rosie’s heart soared. If she hadn’t been crippled, she’d have jumped up and done a dance.
‘Also, I wanted to tell you …’ He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. ‘Um … me and Madison–’
‘It’s okay, I’ve spoken to her about it,’ she said, feeling herself blush.
