Read Online Rosie by Alan Titchmarsh - Free Book Online

name?’
    ‘Alice Marie Xenia.’
    ‘That’s a bit of a mouthful.’
    ‘All family names.’
    He flopped into a chair. ‘When are you going to sit down and tell me everything?’
    ‘Whenever you want. It’s time somebody knew.’
    ‘Well, not tonight. Let’s keep to lighter topics.’
    ‘Like the weather?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘That’ll be interesting.’
    ‘Rosie, there is one thing, before we get off the subject.’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘If you’re so pleased that Alex has a Russian name, why on earth did you christen Dad Derek?’
    ‘Your grandfather put his foot down. I wanted to call him Alexander, but your granddad said it sounded too snooty. He was a lovely man, your granddad, and I didn’t want to upset him.’
    ‘But why Derek?’
    ‘Because it was the name of a very good friend of mine. Someone who was killed in the war. A doctor.’
    ‘And me? Was Nicholas your idea?’
    ‘As luck would have it, that was your mother. All I had to do was sit quietly and smile to myself. Mind you, I was a bit worried. There was a point when she thought she might call you Torquil. Tricky for all of us, that was.’
    Nick winced. ‘It would have been even trickier for me.’
    ‘She saw sense in the end. But your father had the last laugh.’
    ‘With my middle name?’
    ‘Yes. I thought your mother must have been a bit dim not to understand, but your dad managed to pull the wool over her eyes – until after the christening at least.’
    ‘Well, thankfully I don’t have to use it, and by the time I got to school most people didn’t understand anyway.’
    ‘I did think he was taking his love of the horses a bit too far. Naming you after a Grand National winner.’
    ‘It could’ve been worse.’
    ‘Worse than Nicholas Silver?’
    ‘Yes. If I’d been born a few years later I could have been called Red Rum.’
    Rosie laughed. ‘Sometimes you really crack me up,’ she said.

  
8
Royal Blush
    Soft blush pink.
    ‘I don’t know whether to feel guilty or relieved.’ Alex was looking at the MG parked outside the house.
    ‘Oh, think of yourself as a catalyst,’ said Nick, a twinkle in his eyes.
    ‘You do say the nicest things to a girl.’
    ‘It’s a way I have.’
    ‘Are they all right in there, do you think?’ Alex looked towards the house, where Rosie was showing Victoria Nick’s treasures, like the ship in the bottle and the stuffed gannet.
    ‘Oh, yes. She’s had lots of practice.’
    Having over-indulged the child during supper – with three helpings of ice-cream – Rosie had slipped into great-grandmother mode while Nick and Alex drank coffee on the veranda.
    ‘She’ll be reading her a bedtime story next.’
    ‘Talking of which . . .’ Alex looked at her watch.
    ‘There’s no rush,’ said Nick. ‘It’s a lovely evening.’
    He gazed at her sitting in the cane chair, feet curled under her. Her dark hair was still pinned up, but she had changed into a pale pink shirt and jeans. He could see the candlelight reflected in her dark eyes as she gazed out across the water.
    ‘It’s the most perfect spot,’ she said. ‘You’re very lucky.’
    ‘I suppose I am.’
    ‘So did . . . I can’t remember the girl’s name.’
    ‘Debs.’
    ‘Did she live here with you?’
    ‘Some of the time – when she wasn’t abroad.’
    ‘She travelled a lot?’
    ‘A fair bit, yes. That’s why it fizzled out, really.’
    ‘For you or for her?’
    ‘Both of us, I think. It came as a bit of a shock to admit it to myself. I felt miserable about it, but I knew I was feeling sorry for myself rather than missing her.’
    ‘What about her?’
    ‘Absence made her heart grow fonder . . . of somebody else.’
    ‘Over the water?’
    ‘Yes. In a manner of speaking – Southampton.’
    ‘How was it? The ending, I mean.’
    ‘Strangely civilized. Scary, really.’
    ‘Oh, don’t be scared of civility. It’s better than the other option.’
    ‘I guess. But it’s not very passionate, is it?’
    Alex grinned at