Rescuing Rose

‘No!’

‘What on earth do you hope to achieve?’

‘Emotional satisfaction,’ I spat. Ed successfully deflected the gravy boat and a couple of pudding bowls. I lobbed the milk jug at him and it shattered into shrapnel as it hit the path.

‘For God’s sake Rose – this stuff’s bloody expensive!’

‘Yes!’ I said gaily. ‘I know!’ I picked up our wedding photo in its silver frame and flung that at him, hard. He ducked, and it hit the tree behind him, the glass splintering into shining shards. I stood there, breathless with exertion and raised adrenaline as he picked up the dented frame. In that picture we looked radiantly happy. It had been taken just seven months before.

‘It’s no-one’s fault,’ he said. ‘These things happen.’

‘Don’t give me that crap!’ I yelled.

‘But I was so unhappy Rose. I was miserable. I couldn’t cope with coming second to your career.’

‘But my career matters to me,’ I said as I slashed the matrimonial duvet with my biggest Sabatier. ‘Anyway it’s not just a career, it’s a vocation. They need me, those people out there.’

‘But I needed you too,’ he whined as a cloud of goose-down swirled through the air. ‘I didn’t see why I had to compete with all those losers!’

‘Ed!’ I said, ‘that’s low!’

‘Desperate of Dagenham!’

‘Stop it!’

‘Betrayed of Barnsley.’

‘Don’t be mean!’

‘Agoraphobic of Aberystwyth.’

‘That’s so nasty.’

‘There was never any room for me!’

As I gazed at Ed, the knife dropped to my side and I caught my breath, once again, at his looks. He was so utterly, ridiculously good-looking. The handsomest man I’d ever met. Sometimes he looked a little like Gregory Peck. Who was it he reminded me of now? Of course. Jimmy Stewart in It’s a Wonderful Life, all happy and covered in snow. Except it wasn’t snow on Ed’s shoulders but white feathers, and life wasn’t wonderful at all.

‘I’m sorry, Rose,’ he whispered as he spat out two tiny plumes. ‘It’s over. We’ve got to move on.’

‘Don’t you love me then?’ I asked, tentatively, my heart banging like a Kodo drum.

‘I did love you Rose,’ he said regretfully. ‘I really did. But…no, I don’t think I love you any more.’

‘You don’t love me?’ I echoed dismally. ‘Oh. Oh, I see. Well you have now hurt my feelings Ed. You have really got to me. I am now very angry.’ I rummaged in my arsenal and found a Le Creuset frying pan. ‘And suppressed anger is bad for one’s health, so you’ll just have to take your punishment like a man.’

As I picked up the pan with both hands, horror registered on Ed’s handsome face.

‘Please Rose. Don’t be silly.’

‘I’m perfectly serious,’ I said.

‘You’ve had your little game.’

‘It isn’t over. At least not yet.’

‘You’re not really going to hit me with that, are you?’ he pleaded as I advanced across the feather-strewn lawn. ‘Please Rose,’ he wheezed. ‘Don’t.’ And now, as I moved towards him, smashed china crunching underfoot, his voice began to rise from its normal light tenor, to contralto, until it was a kind of odd, soprano whine. ‘Please Rose,’ he whimpered. ‘Not with that. You could really hurt me, you know.’

‘Good!’

‘Rose, don’t. Stop it!’ he wailed, as he tried to protect himself with his hands. ‘Rose. ROSE!’ he screamed, as I lifted the pan aloft and prepared to bring it down, hard, on his head. ‘Rose!’ And now, from somewhere, I could hear banging, and shouting. ‘ROSE!’ Ed shrieked. ‘ROSE! ROSE!’

Suddenly I was sitting bolt upright in bed, heart pounding, eyes staring, my mouth as dry as dust. I was no longer in Ed’s garden in Putney, but in my new house in Camberwell.

‘ROSE!!’ I heard. ‘OPEN UP!!’

I staggered down the unfamiliar stairs, still shocked by the dream which churned in my brain like a thunder cloud.

‘Rose!’ exclaimed Bella as I opened the front door. ‘Rose, thank…’

‘…God!’ sighed Bea.

‘We’ve been banging for hours,’ Bella breathed looking stricken. ‘We thought you might have done something…’

‘…silly,’ concluded Bea. ‘You wouldn’t, would you?’ she went on anxiously. I looked at them. Would I? No.

‘I’d fallen asleep,’ I croaked. ‘Didn’t hear you. It’s knackering moving house.’

‘We know,’ they said, ‘so we’ve come to help you.’ They came in, then gave me a hug.

‘Are you okay, Rose?’ they enquired solicitously.

‘I’m fine,’ I said, wanting to cry.

‘Wow!’ gasped Bella as she surveyed the sitting room.

‘Blimey!’ said Bea. ‘What a mess.’

The room was crammed with cardboard packing cases, bisected by shiny black masking tape. They were stacked up like miniature skyscrapers, almost totally obscuring the floor. I’d paid good money for Shift It Kwik but now I regretted my choice, for far from putting the boxes in their designated rooms, they’d just dumped them then buggered off. ‘KITCH,’ said a box by the window. ‘BATH’ announced the one by the stairs. ‘BED 1,’ said the two by the fireplace. ‘STUDY,’ declared the one by the door.

‘This is going to take you ages,’ said Bea, wonderingly.

‘Weeks,’ added Bella. I sighed. Bella and Bea’s gift for stating the screamingly obvious can drive me nuts. When I broke my arm ice-skating when I was twelve, all they said was, ‘Rose, you should have taken more care.’ When I failed my ‘A’ Levels they said, ‘Rose you should have done more work.’ And when I got engaged to Ed, they said, ‘Rose, we think it’s too soon.’ That didn’t seem at all apparent to me then, but it sure as hell does now. Oh yes, Bella and Bea always state the obvious, but they have twenty-four carat hearts.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Bella. ‘We’ll…’

‘…help you,’ concluded Bea. They’re like an old married couple in many ways. They finish each other’s sentences, for example, and they bicker a lot of the time. Like many an old married couple, they even look alike; but that’s not surprising – they’re identical twins.

‘Give us the guided tour,’ said Bella. ‘It’s quite big,’ she added. This was true. I’d gone looking for a large garden flat but had ended up with a three bedroomed house. The twins admired the size of the kitchen, but thought the bathroom was a bit small.