“But Rose,” I said.
“I like Rosy Posy,” said Rose.
“But Rosy Posy,” I said.
“I prefer that you see it,” said Rose. “Because then you’ll get better.”
“But I’m no longer ill,” I said.
“You’re ill in a different sort of way,” said Rose.
“What way is that?” said Eldric.
“She’s ill in her thoughts,” said Rose.
“I am not!”
“You are so,” said Rose. “You think certain things about yourself and they don’t make you happy.”
Eldric glanced at me, but I pretended not to notice. Shut up, Rose! “What makes you think I have unhappy thoughts?” I don’t tell Rose things like that—intimate things.
“Because you talk when you’re asleep.”
Oh.
“May I hazard a guess?” said Eldric.
“A hazard is dangerous,” said Rose.
“Hazard a guess about the babies, I mean. Are they you and Briony?”
“Yes!” Rose actually grew pink from all those exclamation marks.
“You’re ever so clever,” said Leanne.
“This one’s you, Rose.” Eldric pointed. “That one’s Briony.”
“Yes!”
“How on earth can you tell?” I said.
“I’ve told you dozens of times that you and Rose are nothing alike,” said Eldric.
“Eldric has an eye for art of all sorts,” said Leanne. “Don’t you, darling?”
“If you say so,” said Eldric.
Darling! Had they
“You are not attending,” said Rose.
I leaned closer. The babies were little more than oblongs of paper, yet they were clearly babies. How had she done that?
“It’s fantastic, Rose.”
“I know,” said Rose. “What else do you see?”
I looked, and Eldric looked, but we couldn’t make out anything else. “I prefer that you see it,” said Rose.
“Perhaps Leanne can see it?” said Eldric.
Leanne gazed but finally shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“You see, Rose,” said Eldric, “we haven’t your eye for color.”
“You may call me Rosy Posy,” said Rose. “Leanne, however, may not.”
“Rose!” I said. “That was extremely rude.”
“We didn’t ask her to come,” said Rose.
I turned to Leanne to apologize, but Leanne smiled and shook her head. “Don’t let it trouble you. I quite understand.”
“Don’t give up!” said Rose. “Briony must get better!”
I looked deeper into the collage, into an overlay of dark blues with spots of white and yellow.
“The night sky?” I said.
“Yes,” said Rose. “Eldric has corroborated my theory that it’s all right to say
“I intend only to make correct guesses,” I said.
The collage was divided into halves with a vertical line of black. At first glance, the halves were identical. A pale moon in each, and a pale peach baby with a single eye.
The babies were identical (unless you chose to believe Eldric), but the moons were not. The right-hand moon hung in the twelve o’clock position, but the left-hand moon had not yet risen so high.
“Hmm,” I said.
“Hmm,” said Eldric.
“My dear Rose,” said Leanne. “You’re quite the artist too.”
Good thing she couldn’t go after Rose. Good thing the Dark Muse only preyed on men.
“Rosy Posy,” said Rose, but not to Leanne. “Briony Vieny.”
“Our names match up,” I said.
“Quite right,” said Rose.
“Our names match up, but the moons don’t match up.”
“You are exceedingly correct,” said Rose.
“Did we have a conversation about this before, Rose? When I was ill?”
“Yes,” said Rose.
It had been a conversation about how one might describe midnight. I remember being rather breezy and saying that ten minutes before midnight looked just like midnight. Rose had said that was no good.
“Is the one with the moon straight overhead meant to represent midnight, and the other represent before midnight?”
“It doesn’t represent,” said Rose. “It is.”
“Is it then?”
“You are exceedingly correct.”
But there I stuck. Rosy Posy and Briony Vieny? Babies at midnight?
They oughtn’t to be up so late.
“Don’t stop thinking,” said Rose. “Otherwise you won’t get well.”
“I’m thinking,” I said. “But Rose—”
“I prefer Rosy Posy.”
“But Rosy Posy.” I had to make her understand that I was neither ill nor injured. “How is this going to cure unhappy thoughts?”
“You won’t have to think them anymore.”
Twilight crept upon us; we tore into the packet of biscuits. Eldric offered a share to Leanne, but she cared only for the homemade kind. We leaned against the warm boulders. Shop-bought biscuits are delicious! Too bad for Leanne.
“Don’t stop thinking,” said Rose.
“Can you give us a hint, Rosy Posy?”
“It’s against the rules.”
My attempts to work out Rose’s secret felt rather as though I were performing brain surgery by the light of a glowworm. “I believe you’re too clever for us, Rosy Posy.”
I held out my forefinger.
“Yes,” said Rose, touching her finger to mine.
Rose lay back on the perfect picnic quilt. She closed her eyes, but she was still smiling. “This is how I want to live my life.”
The rest of us sat in silence while mist and moon and moorland worked themselves into a lather of romance. Leanne was doubtless wishing me and Rose far away. All that lather, but no privacy for a two-person scrub.
“Except I want you to know the secret,” said Rose, her eyes still closed.
“I’m trying, Rosy Posy.”
“Does everyone have a secret, do you suppose?” said Eldric.
“Mine’s a mad husband in the attic,” I said.
Leanne laughed. It struck me I’d never heard her laugh before. “This is not a proper secret,” she said, “but I don’t tell many people, as it sounds hideously conceited. I know I can trust the three of you to understand what I mean to say.”
But there were only two of us now, for Rose was asleep. Her dreaming eyes shifted beneath butterfly eyelids.
