Replacement Baby Page 4

  Chapter Six

  When the day came for Rose to leave with Mrs. Harrison to go to the airport, she began to feel gloomy. She knew she would miss being around her friend.

  Together, Rose and Mrs. Harrison rode in a taxi to the airport. They chatted about the famous sights Rose was hoping to see when she arrived in London.

  Rose was still getting used to going by her new name, but she enjoyed the freshness of it. As they got closer to the airport, Mrs. Harrison reached into her bag and pulled out a thin, rectangular book. The title on the front of the book read Rose in the Countryside. Rose took the book and cracked open the cover.

  “This makes me think of you,” Mrs. Harrison told Rose. “It’s a very popular book in England. It’s a series about a mischievous little girl named Rose and all of her adventures. She lives in a tiny cottage in England with her mother and father. Her mother is her best friend. Anyhow, the little girl in the story reminds me of you. It has lovely watercolor paintings by the author, too.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Harrison,” Rose said, flipping through the pages. She did not have much of an interest in children’s books, but she was touched by the sweetness of the gift. She had always enjoyed it when Mrs. Harrison read to her as a child.

  Rose closed the book and glanced at the cover again. It was full of vibrant colors. The cover of the book featured a watercolor illustration of a little girl with curly light hair and green eyes. The girl was in the middle of a vast field. Behind the field were green, rolling hills. A great oak tree was in the middle of the field and the little girl was sitting on a swing which hung from the branch. In the illustration, the little girl was swinging high, her skirt flowing, her curls flying, and her feet bare. Rose smiled.

  Mrs. Harrison walked with Rose to the airport gate. Following behind Mrs. Harrison, they approached two seats at the end of a row in the waiting area. On one chair sat a tall, slender young man who with dark, curly hair and bright green eyes. Beside him was a young woman with short auburn curls and those same green eyes. They both smiled and stood up as Mrs. Harrison and Rose approached.

  “Hi, Aunt Gwen! Great to see you!” The young man spoke first. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug.

  “Hi, Aunt Gwen!” The young woman chimed in. She waited for her turn for a hug.

  “Rose, I’d like you to meet my nephew’s children,” Mrs. Harrison said to Rose after the greetings and hugs ended. “This is Lionel.” She motioned to the young man first. “And Julie.” She put her arm around the young woman. “Lionel and Julie, this is my friend, Rose.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Rose,” Lionel said politely.

  “Nice to meet you, Rose!” Julie exclaimed with excitement. “Rose is a really pretty name! I like it. I can’t wait for us to get to London. I have almost no friends in London anymore. I can’t wait to have a new friend living in my house! It will be so awesome. And we can go shopping! Do you like shopping, Rose?”

  “I guess so,” Rose mumbled, blushing a little. She rarely went shopping, but she liked it the few times that she had gone.

  “Okay, terrific!” Julie replied with enthusiasm. “Why don’t we go the day after we arrive in London? London has wonderful stores. It’s not quite as amazing as shopping for clothes in Paris, of course, but it’s still good.”

  “Of course,” Rose said, feeling slightly annoyed by all the chatter.

  Lionel leaned close to Julie and whispered loudly in her ear. “Julie, shut up,” Rose heard him say. “Sometimes you talk too much.”

  Julie made a scowling face and punched Lionel in the arm. He grabbed his arm and glared at her.

  It’s going to be an interesting trip with these two, Rose thought. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked back to see Mrs. Harrison, who was frowning sadly.

  “Time to say good-bye now,” she said to Rose.

  Rose held back tears as she said good-bye to Mrs. Harrison. The woman embraced her and held her tight.

  “May God watch over you, Rose,” Mrs. Harrison told her.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Harrison.” Rose paused. “I’ll miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you, too, my dear.”

  Mrs. Harrison gave Lionel and Julie quick hugs good-bye and told them to have a safe journey. She squeezed Rose’s hand one last time before the three began to walk to the plane.

  Rose turned to wave good-bye before walking onto the airplane with Lionel and Julie. She carried her duffle bag and her purse with her, which were the only things she owned in the world anymore. Rose glanced over her shoulder one last time to catch a glimpse of Mrs. Harrison. Rose could have sworn that she saw the older woman crying.

  * * *

  After many hours of flying and one layover, Rose walked off the airplane and onto English soil with a new friend on either side of her. Rose was quick to notice that her friends had much more luggage than she did. They did not say anything out of politeness.

  “Welcome to England!” Lionel said, waving his arm in front of him.

  After exchanging their money at the airport, the three friends got into a cab to go to lunch. The houses in Manchester did not appear too different from those in New York, though almost every building was brick and there seemed to be many chimneys. There were some tall buildings, but not as many as there were in New York. A significant amount of the houses appeared grim and in need of repair. Rose glanced around and took in the new surroundings.

  “Don’t worry,” Lionel said. “Not all parts of England are so depressing. This is just the not so nice part of Manchester.”

  “Oh, no, there are some gorgeous spots in London, Rose,” Julie cried. She grabbed Rose’s arm in excitement. “I can’t wait to show you around!”

  Rose smiled weakly. She had so much to do when she arrived in London. She would be spending a lot of time working as an assistant to Mrs. Douglass. On top of that, she would be searching for Loretta Grigsby Jennings.

  “You’ll like our parents,” Julie continued, not noticing that Rose was deep in thought. “They are so kind and sweet. We miss them a ton when we’re away for school. Me especially. I get lonely sometimes. It’ll be so wonderful to have a friend this summer. I miss my friends whenever I’m in London. But this time, I have you!”

  “Don’t talk her ear off, Julie,” Lionel joked.

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” Julie exclaimed. “Rose? Am I talking too much? Rose, please, if I’m talking too much, just tell me!”

  “No, no, it doesn’t bother me at all,” Rose lied.

  “Good! I’m glad.” Julie replied. “Hey Rose, I’ve noticed that you don’t talk very much. Can I ask you something?”

  “Yes,” Rose replied.

  “Rose, are you kind of a shy, quiet type?” Her new friend asked in a curious tone. “You sort of seem like a shy person. I mean, if you are, that’s okay.”

  “I guess, maybe, a little bit,” Rose admitted. “I don’t have any brothers or sisters and I only have a few friends. I guess I’m not accustomed to being talked to very much.”

  “Oh, Rose, how sad.” Julie’s face saddened. “Only a few friends? Well, we’ve got to get you some more in London.”

  “Julie, leave her alone,” Lionel whispered.

  “Lionel, we are friends! I only want to get to know her better!” Julie whispered back.

  Their cab arrived at a welcoming looking restaurant, which Lionel recommended. At Lionel’s suggestion, Rose ordered fish and chips. It was tasty, and very different from what she normally ate. Mother generally preferred healthier foods, which were often bland in taste. Mother always preferred a low sodium diet and never consumed fried foods. Because of this, Rose enjoyed every bite of her meal.

  “Great suggestion, Lionel,” Rose told him after she had finished eating.

  “Glad you liked it,” he said, taking a bite of his food. He had ordered the same dish as Rose.

  Lionel insisted on paying for the whole meal, despite Rose’s pleas. She shook her head as he paid the check.

  “Save your money fo
r when you get to London,” Lionel insisted. “There’s lots of things to do there and many things that you’ll probably want to buy.”

  They got back into their cab, which had waited outside the restaurant, and arrived soon at the main train station. They got in a line to purchase their train tickets from a woman behind a glass partition. Rose glanced at a tall sign, which listed all of the routes and prices when they arrived. Her heart sunk as she read. The train fare would take a good chunk of her money, even though Mrs. Harrison had given her some. She took a deep breath and stepped up to the counter when it was her turn. She paid for her ticket, and shoved the remainder of her money in her purse. Lionel and Julie purchased tickets next and then they boarded the train.

  Rose, Lionel, and Julie had a compartment all to themselves. The train started moving and left the station, and Rose leaned back in her seat. The train swayed back and forth in a way which seemed almost comforting. The only train Rose could remember riding was the loud, dirty Subway train. This was different. Instead of looking out the window to view only endless rows of old brick buildings covered in soot, Rose was surprised when this train went through small villages and the vast countryside. Rose’s eyes slowly shut as she sighed. Here in this train, far away from New York and in another country, she finally felt safe.

  It seems like I’m safe here, Rose thought to herself as she rested with her eyes closed. And I probably am safe. But I still know in my heart that Mother might come after me if she knew where I was. Would she? Rose wondered. She’s cared for me for my whole life, hasn’t she? Sure, she’s slapped me, hit me, and grabbed me before when she was mad, but nothing that ever did permanent damage. Even if she found me, she wouldn’t hurt me… would she?

  Rose tried to shake off her feelings of worry as her body swayed with the train’s rocking motions. She opened one eye for a moment. Beside her, Julie leaned hunched over, reading a fashion magazine. Lionel stared intently at a thick, important looking book. I’m really fortunate that Mrs. Harrison arranged for me to travel with people she knows and trusts. Rose’s closed her eyes once more and her peaceful thoughts lulled her to sleep.

  * * *

  Rose opened her eyes to see a tall woman in dark clothing standing over her. It was Mother. She found me! She found me! Rose’s thoughts raced. Frantically she glanced around. Julie and Lionel were gone. The train compartment was completely empty, except for Rose and Mother. Outside the picture window on the wall, Rose could see a dark sky, which was almost black with no stars or moon shining.

  Rose turned her head and stared up at Mother. The woman wore a large, dark hat and an equally dark dress. Tall and still, she stood in front of Rose, leering at her.

  Mother silently reached down and grabbed a clump of Rose’s hair. Yanking her out of her seat by the hair, Mother clenched her fist and squinted her eyes. Helplessly, Rose flailed her arms. Mother pulled Rose’s flailing body farther up from the seat by her curly locks, holding her there with one hand. Hanging by her hair, Rose hovered over the floor. Her feet dangled as she struggled to get herself loose.

  “Stop it! Let me go!” Rose cried.

  Mother’s face rested emotionless. Her eyes were dark and cold. Her lips parted slightly, but showed no sign of sadness or regret.

  “Stop it! Stop it, Mother!” Rose was weeping now.

  Still, despite Rose’s pleas, Mother gripped her hair tightly. The woman stared at her face with her same a cold, emotionless stare. Rose continued to struggle to get free, swinging her arms at Mother and begging her to put her down.

  “Please let me go, please!” Rose begged.

  “Rose! Rose! Rose, wake up!” A voice called out her name.

  A hand was on her arm. Rose opened her eyes to see the sun shining through the large picture window of the train compartment. Mother was nowhere in sight.

  “Rose, Rose!” Julie’s voice cried. Julie was beside Rose and Lionel stood over her, his face clouded with concern.

  It was a nightmare. It was all a nightmare. Rose breathed with ease, her body filled with relief.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Rose insisted. “I just had a bad dream. I’m so sorry to worry you both.”

  “Oh, Rose!” Julie cried, wrapping her arms around her friend. Rose sat still in her seat, enveloped in Julie’s warm embrace. When Julie let go, Lionel gently took Rose’s hand.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said to her. “You cried out. You sounded terrified.”

  Rose blinked her eyes and gazed up at Lionel. He took a seat beside her. He awkwardly placed his hand on her arm.

  “Are you sure everything is alright?” he asked her in a voice that was just above a whisper.

  “Yes, yes, it’s fine,” Rose mumbled.

  “Please, I want you to know,” said Lionel. “If you need anything at all, Julie and I are your friends. Please don’t hesitate to ask us for help. You can trust us.”

  “Thank you,” Rose whispered. “I’m sleepy, so I think I’ll take another nap.”

  Lionel nodded and got up. Rose closed her eyes again, clasping her hands tightly in her lap.

  Lionel seems so kind. So does Julie, even though she talks more than a parrot. Rose opened her eyes slightly to observe her two companions. They seem nice. They seem normal, too. Will they really become good friends? Can I trust them with my secrets? Maybe I can. Not everyone is like Mother. Not everyone is full of dark secrets, hidden underneath the floorboards.

  Rose’s dreams this time were far more pleasant. She dreamed of a large park with hills and a pond. She dreamed of Lionel and Julie, taking a walk along the pathway. Everything in the park was green. Everything sparkled and the water in the pond shimmered like diamonds. The sun was the color of lemons.

  A tall, slender woman approached. Her hair was brown and curly. Her eyes were cheerful and a large smile filled her face. As she walked closer, she lifted her arms toward Rose.

  “Rose! Rose!” the woman called. She started toward Rose, her arms outstretched. The woman began running toward her, but her run was almost like a dance, full of graceful, flying leaps.

  “I’m here! I’m here!” Rose shouted in her dream. “It’s me! It’s Rose! I am your little Rose!”

  In her dream, Rose knew this woman. She belonged to this tall woman with the large smile and the abundant curls. Was the woman in my dreams my true mother? My birth mother? Is Loretta Jennings really my birth mother? Rose wondered curiously after she had woken up. I think she could be. I just need to find out for sure.

  Chapter Seven

  It was dark when they arrived in London, at the Waterloo Station. The city lights were brilliant in the night sky, and Rose thought that they shone like a million glowing orbs. She pressed her hand against the window, desiring to reach out and touch the magical-looking lights.

  “Here we are!” Lionel called out. He handily lifted two of their bags on his shoulders. A steward carried the rest. Lionel walked off the train with a jolly jaunt. Julie took Rose’s arm and led her out into the night air.

  They hailed a cab and arrived about fifteen minutes later at a tall, stately looking brick home with a tall, black iron fence around it. White shutters and awnings framed the house. The home was so large and regal that Rose stared at it in awe.

  “Come on now,” Lionel called to her with a laugh. A man dressed in khaki pants and a polo shirt rushed to their car to gather up their luggage. A woman, who was a live-in maid, dressed in a white blouse and grey skirt took Rose’s raincoat, which she had worn to shield herself from the chilly night air.

  They stepped into the tall entryway of the house. The floors were black and white marble and an elegant, dark metal chandelier hung from the ceiling. Suddenly, there was a flurry of greetings and hugs between a slender woman with greying curls, an older, balding gentleman with round eyeglasses, Lionel, and Julie.

  “How wonderful it is to have you home!” the woman cried.

  “Oh, Mom, I’ve missed you so, so much!” Julie’s high voice echoed through t
he large entryway.

  “Great to see you, Dad!” Lionel stated with a smile.

  “I’m so happy to have my two children back home again!” said the man.

  Rose ducked away to a corner. She suddenly felt alone and forgotten. Of course this was no one’s fault, and she knew it. But watching her friends with their parents reminded her how cold and strained her interactions with her own mother were, as well as the fact that she had no memory of her father. She stood in her state of loneliness until the slender, grey haired woman, Mrs. Douglass, turned around and reached out to her. She hugged Rose tight.

  “You must be Rose,” she chirped in a cheerful voice.

  “I am,” Rose replied.

  “Welcome to our home!” The woman wrapped Rose up in a hug. Mrs. Douglass pulled away after a few seconds to look Rose in the face. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too,” Rose said politely. She smiled.

  “Please, I want you to spend the next three days settling in,” Mrs. Douglass told her. “After that, I can explain to you how you will be assisting me and what your duties will be.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Rose thanked her. “I appreciate your kindness. I am very grateful for this opportunity and for letting me stay here in your home. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Nonsense!” the woman exclaimed. “You are most welcome. Any friend of Aunt Gwen is a friend of ours.”

  Rose nodded. Mr. Douglass approached her and greeted her warmly with a handshake. He welcomed her as a guest in his home.

  After all of the friendly introductions, the woman who had taken Rose’s coat led her up to her room. Rose was surprised to find that the room was right beside Julie’s bedroom. She had assumed that she would be in some sort of servant’s quarters in such a large house.

  The bedroom was large and white. The ceilings were tall and the bed had four tall posts and a canopy. The bed linens and covers were all frilly and white, as were the curtains. A plush white rug rested on the dark wood floors. Soft lamplight made the room seem warm and cozy. Rose changed into her pajamas and rested her head on the pillow. I’m here, she thought with contentment. I am in the same city as the woman who might be my true mother, my birth mother. Somewhere, maybe only a few streets away, my mother is in her own bed. She could be reading a book. Maybe she’s watching television. It’s possible that she’s even thinking of me.