At the sign of the Red Lion
By Netty Allen
- 923 reads
John arrived at the Red Lion a few hours later. Alfred helped him unload the barrels and stacked them neatly in the yard. With the job soon finished John stretched out and yawned. After the long cart ride his throat was as dry as the sawdust on the tavern floor and it was with great pleasure that he accepted Alfred’s offer of a long, cold beer. John settled down on one of the barrels to wait and a few minutes later his beer appeared. Rosie smiled at him as she handed over the glass. John took the beer, planted his feet firmly on the ground, took a swift gulp and grinned back.
“Thank-you Rosie, that’s very sweet of you. Very sweet indeed.”
He instinctively took another sip of his beer, it was so cold and refereshing he could almost feel it waking up his brain. He was sorely tempted to take another long gulp, but he knew he would have to act fast or she would go back to her chores.
“Would you like to sit here a while with me? I’d be very glad of the company.”
Rosie hesitated just for a moment. John had become a regular visitor to the Red Lion, making deliveries, taking orders. His quiet strength, his open manner and his broad smile had charmed Rosie many months before. Their courtship had been slow and gentle, which suited them both. Neither had declared their love to one another, yet there was an unspoken understanding between them which never needed to be expressed. John knew that theirs would not be a passionate affair, which would burn out as swiftly as it had ignited, leaving the two of them stumbling in the dark. Rather theirs was a bond as enduring as the rocks on a hillside. Together he knew they would weather any storm, survive any disaster, facing the future hand in hand. Rosie sat down beside him and the conversation flowed back and forth between them as naturally as the ebb and flow of the tide. Neither was in a rush to share their stories, just happy to be together, sharing this moment of peace in a world gone mad.
Albert opened the door into the yard and saw the two of them together, heads bowed, deep in conversation, smiling and laughing. Albert was quietly pleased. He ahd noticed that Rosie always seemed very quiet after a visit from John, as if she was lost in her own thoughts. Albert decided it was time to move things along, as if left to themselves, the two lovers would move as slowly as a glacier down the mountain. Rosie had come to live with Alber and his wife Maggie when she was ten years old. Her mother was Albert’s sister and Rosie was already one of seven when his sister found she was pregnant again. Rosie had been a blessing for them both. Childless themselves, Albert knew that Maggie needed a child to love as her own, or she would have become a bitter disappointed woman. Rosie quickly became the daughter Maggie had never had, and the bond between them grew stronger than the bond between Rosie and her own mother.
Albert found Maggie in the kitchen. Albert was not a demonstrative man, but the sight of Rosie and John together had made him remember how lucky he had been in his choice of wife. He went over and kissed Maggie tenderly on the top of her head. Over their years together Maggie had helped him to build his business, working long hours without complaint. Moving Rosie in with them had been Albert’s way of comforting his wife who had begun to see the many miscarriages and still births as a punishment for some unknown wrong she could never put right. Rosie gave her an outlet for her love and gradually Maggie had been able to allow her wounds to heal. Having a young girl’s laughter in the kitchen had helped Maggie regain her innate cheerfulness. Rosie’s irrepressible sweetness had melted the ice which had begun to grow around her heart.
“I think it’s time I had a word with young John about his intentions towards our Rosie.”
Maggie let go of the pie dish which she had been filling, wiped her hands on her apron and turned to her husband, letting out a small sigh.
“And where do you think they will live?” she asked irritatedly.
“I imagine John’s father will have a place in mind for him already. A cottage perhaps on the farm.”
“Oh.” said Maggie biting her lip.
“So what do you think? He’s a fine lad.”
“She’s too young. There’s no need to rush.”
“But you were younger than Rosie when we were wed.” Albert had expected a different response. He tried again.
“ He’s a fine catch. The eldest son, of a good family. I think they will be very happy together.”
Maggie continued to frown. This approach wasn’t working either.
“If it’s the dowry you’re worried about, it’s all taken care of. I set aside some money for Rosie’s wedding a long time ago. I’ve always known that Lily wouldn’t be able to provide her with anything.”
He paused. Still his words were not having the desired effect. He thought that all women loved to plan a wedding. Surely Maggie should be happy. “It will all work out fine, you’ll see. I’m sure the two of you will have lots of fun planning her trousseau. ”
Albert squeezed his wife’s arm encouragingly. Maggie smiled back. Albert went upstairs to check his account book and see exactly how much money he could promise to Rosie. It was important that he got the figure right. He didn’t want to give too little, but at the same time he didn’t want Maggie to worry that he was being extravagant in a way they couldn’t really afford.
He had not expected Maggie to take the news so badly. Surely as a woman she should have had some sort of intuition that Rosie was of an age to start courting. If he had noticed that Rosie was sweet on John, then surely Maggie would have notice too. The two women were so close.
“Women are such strange, unfathomable creatures.” Albert thought to himself as he climbed the stairs. “So unpredictable, I never know what they are going to say or do next.”
Maggie continued to work on the pie. Although she knew in her heart of hearts that this day would come, she wasn’t ready yet to lose Rosie. She had imagined that Rosie would never leave, and if she was to marry and have children, they would all live here together. Maggie loved the idea of a gaggle of children all climbing over Rosie’s knee, with Maggie there fuss over them all and love them all. The idea of not seeing Rosie everyday gave Maggie a chill. Without Rosie, Maggie’s life would be drained of all colour.
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This was very interesting. I
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