When Rosie arrived back at the flat the following week, she knew immediately that something was wrong. There was no sign of life apart from Springsteen, who was lolling happily in his favourite chair. No laundry was drying on the heated rack near the back door; no coffee smell lingered in the kitchen; no mugs or plates were stacked in the dishwasher.
For the first time in a long time, Aled’s bedroom door was closed. She knocked, fully expecting to get no response. After a moment, she opened it.
The bed they’d slept in together, curled into one another like two speech marks, was neatly made. His furniture was still in place, but there were too many things missing: books, postcards, the guitar she still hadn’t heard him play … the framed photo of him, Tiegan and Gethin. Her stomach turned over, and a cool sweat began beading between her shoulder blades.
All night, Rosie waited and hoped he’d come back.
When he didn’t, she went to bed in her own room, only falling asleep when the exhaustion of the past few days finally pulled her under. She dreamed of his hands, of his voice in her ear and his lips on her throat.
When she awoke alone, still in darkness, she cried.
‘What are you doing here?’ Rhianne demanded when Rosie turned up for work the next morning. ‘I had it all sorted: Yaz was going to cover for you again.’
‘It’s fine, I messaged her last night,’ Rosie said. ‘I’m back now, Mum’s doing OK and I knew I’d go out of my mind with boredom stuck at home on my own.’
‘Are you sure you’re up for this? You don’t want to catch up on some sleep or watch three different versions of Pride & Prejudice back to back?’
‘I really don’t,’ Rosie said honestly. Anything book- or romance-related would only make her think about Aled. She’d spent half the night going over what had happened between them, and she still had no idea where he was or why he’d gone.
Yes, they’d argued – and yes, she’d left in a hurry on Saturday afternoon. But had that single argument really torpedoed every hope for a reconciliation? Had it been enough to blow up everything that was good between them?
Rosie kept thinking about what he’d said right before Michael called: You haven’t let me explain properly. There’s still stuff you don’t know. And now that she thought about it, there had been moments where Aled had seemed nervous – like he was teetering on the cusp of saying something scary and significant. Something had always interrupted them, claiming her attention or robbing him of his nerve. And he had resisted the pull between them: she thought about roller skating, Bonfire Night, Cora and Ed’s wedding reception … He could have kissed her any time he chose, but he’d been reluctant to do so dishonestly – or at the risk of being anything less than the person she really, truly wanted.
Rather inconveniently, since she appeared to have lost him both literally and figuratively, he was precisely the person she wanted: now, and probably forever. She’d come to work today not only for the sake of escaping the emptiness of the flat – she needed to talk to Rhianne about what was happening.
If anyone knew where Aled had ended up, it would be his cousin and closest friend. Depending on when he’d left, Rosie also knew that Rhianne would have been drafted in to feed and fuss Springsteen while they were both away. There was no way he’d have asked local cat loather Mrs Beaumont to look in on him, even though she only lived next door.
After a busy breakfast time, however, it was Tobi that Rosie found herself face to face with. She was also on shift all day, looking as happy and confident as Rosie had ever seen her.
‘I’ve had a wonderful idea,’ Tobi said as she wiped down the coffee machine, her big brown eyes shining with excitement.
‘Oh? What’s that then?’ Rosie asked, trying to make sure she didn’t sound as miserable as she felt.
‘I will if you will,’ Tobi said significantly.
‘Will what?’ Rosie replied, nonplussed.
‘Apply to university!’ Tobi exclaimed, beaming.
‘What?’
‘It’s a great idea, right? We do it together,’ Tobi explained. ‘We can help each other with the forms, with the personal statements – through the whole process. It’s something we both want, and something we’ve both been scared of. Let’s not be scared anymore.’
‘I … I don’t know,’ Rosie mumbled. ‘I’m a bit all over the place right now. I’m not sure I can do it.’
‘You absolutely can,’ Rhianne announced from behind her. She’d emerged from the kitchen with a massive tray of freshly baked mince pies, which she now began to place inside the glass display cabinet on the counter. ‘In fact,’ she went on, ‘you can do whatever hours you need to here while you study. You can go part-time, you can do weekends only … And if you don’t at least consider this brilliant idea, I might actually have to fire you.’
‘What?!’ Rosie said again.
‘You heard.’ Rhianne pointed at her with a newly polished fingernail that Rosie now noticed had been painted to resemble a Christmas pudding.
She took a deep breath. ‘Does this count as workplace bullying?’
‘Definitely not,’ Rhianne said, tearing a mince pie into thirds and giving a chunk of it to Tobi. ‘This is encouragement. This is us saying we believe in you. Mince pie?’
‘Absolutely.’
She handed Rosie a lump of warm pastry, oozing fruity filling.
‘Oh my god, that’s delicious. Why do we not eat these all year round again?’
‘Because then they wouldn’t be special,’ Rhianne said sagely.
Tobi dusted pastry crumbs from her fingers, then held her hand out to Rosie. ‘I will if you will,’ she said again.
Rosie hesitated. Wavered. Then she thought about what she’d told James at the hospital. She had said that she’d changed – that she wanted to move forward. She needed to honour that no matter how hard it might seem, and with or without a man in her life.
She put her hand in Tobi’s. Shook it. Tobi jumped for joy, pulling her into a hug that knocked the breath out of her and made her eyes shimmer with tears.
‘I will if you will,’ Rosie whispered, squeezing her back. ‘And we’re both going to be great.’
‘Marvellous,’ Rhianne said, bustling back towards the kitchen with her baking tray. ‘God bless us, everyone.’