The Blue Rose

As they approached the entry gate the postman walked into view.

‘You’re awfully late tonight, Sid,’ Kate remarked, as Alex pulled the car to a stop alongside him.

‘’Ad some trouble with the van,’ he muttered. ‘Piece of junk, that one.’ He handed over a small bundle of letters wrapped in junk mail flyers.

Kate put the letters on her lap while mapping out a route for Alex in the AA Road Atlas. Once they were under way, Kate flipped through the envelopes. ‘Bill – bill – doctor’s appointment – last three days of sale. Final notice?’

‘Final notice?’ Alex exclaimed. ‘Who’s that from?’

‘Just kidding. Hmm, this looks interesting,’ she said, slipping her fingernail under the flap of an expensive- looking envelope and opening it. She pulled out a one-page letter and started to read it. ‘Very interesting,’ she murmured.

Alex glanced up at the rear view mirror. ‘Who’s it from?’ he asked.

‘The letterhead reads, “Trident International” – there’s a London and a San Francisco address. Let me read it to you:

‘Dear Mr and Mrs Sheppard,I was most interested to learn about your blue rose. My company represents an individual – the head of an international corporation and a learned horticulturist – who is extremely interested in purchasing such a rose. Providing the plant passes certain botanical testing for authenticity and condition – which we will pay for in advance – my client is prepared to offer you a substantial sum in exchange for the rose and all subsequent patents.Would it be possible to arrange a meeting, at which time this proposal could be discussed in further detail and a viewing of the rose made possible?In the interests of time, please phone me at the Hampstead telephone number listed above. A prompt response would be most appreciated.’

Kate lowered the letter to her lap. ‘It’s signed Kenji. Tanaka, President,’ she said.

‘Ye gods! Here we go again. I guess the word’s really out, now.’

‘Out all over the planet, by the looks of it. I wonder how he got our name and address. Surely he can’t have access to our file, too.’

‘Not if the American lifted it.’

‘Hmm.’

‘It’s probably as Adell predicted. Someone from Bonham’s leaked it. I’m sure they know everything about us by now.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Kate murmured.

‘Anyway, I’ll fax it up to Adell tomorrow,’ said Alex. ‘Let him deal with Mr Tanaka.’

For the next several minutes they travelled in silence. Once again the blue rose had managed to insinuate its dark presence. Would the time ever come, she wondered, when it would not be lurking beneath the shallows of her thoughts, ready to surface like an insidious creature from an alien planet? She sat silently, trying to forget the letter, watching the countryside slip by, now and then glancing at Alex out of the corner of her eye. Physically, he’d changed little in the nine years they’d known each other. A frosting of grey in his sideburns now – a little plumper in the face, perhaps. But, despite having the appetite of a ditch digger, he still somehow managed to maintain the lean physique of his college sports photos. Of late, he’d been playing a lot of tennis. Word was that he was giving some of the younger hotshots quite a whipping.

Nearing Shaftesbury, on the A350, Kate caught sight of a road sign pointing to the village of Kingston Deverill. I wonder how he’s doing she asked herself. She thought back to Kingston’s last visit to The Parsonage. She smiled inwardly. It was no coincidence how he always managed to arrive at mealtimes – invariably staying for the rest of the day and evening, too. The limp excuse on his last visit for packing an overnight bag was that he planned to stay at the local, the George and Dragon. Of course, he ended up staying in their guest room.

That same evening, after dinner Kingston had launched into a long-winded reminiscing – mostly about his experiences in various far-flung outposts when he served as a captain in the army. Around ten thirty, Alex, who looked as though he might fall asleep any minute, finally excused himself, saying that he had to get up early the next morning. She and Kingston had continued talking, mostly about gardens. Another hour passed with Kingston showing no signs of tiredness. In need of a break, she asked if he’d like more coffee. The minute she did so, she regretted it. That’ll keep him going for another couple of hours, she cursed to herself.

When she returned with the coffee, Kingston steered the conversation back to The Parsonage and Kate and Alex.

‘So, how did the two of you end up at the altar?’ he asked out of the blue.

Kate was determined to make her answer as brief as possible. Now her eyes were starting to droop. Didn’t he ever get tired?

‘Well, let me see,’ she said rubbing her chin. ‘Alex told you how we met – all about the picnic.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Well, for about six months after that I dated an army lieutenant. Coldstream Guards. James, his name was. He got an overseas posting, wanted me to go with him and I said no. The relationship would have fizzled out anyway. It wasn’t going anywhere, not as far as I was concerned, at least. Nice chap, though.’

Kingston chuckled. ‘As they say, “Nice to the regiment, but rotten to the core.”’

She laughed and took a sip of the strong lukewarm coffee. ‘I must be boring you to tears, Lawrence,’ she said with a faint smile. ‘You must be tired.’

‘No, I’m fine. You’re not boring me at all. I find it all most interesting. Please, go on.’

Inwardly she groaned and managed to stifle a yawn just in time. ‘After that I didn’t have a regular boyfriend,’ she said. ‘The occasional date now and again but nothing serious. Then, by happenstance, I ran into Alex again. Of all places, at my shop in Bath.’

‘That must have been a surprise.’

‘It was, believe me. It was a Saturday. It was bucketing down that day.’ Her eyes wandered off momentarily towards the windows, then back to Kingston. ‘I was in the back of the shop moving furniture, helping a customer get a better look at a large armoire. Suddenly, there was this awful sound of shattering glass. It sounded expensive. I went to the front to investigate. I was horrified to see a man there, sprawled on the floor. He was lying in a pool of broken crystal, the remains of eight of my Edwardian goblets. The smear of ice cream he had slipped on was clearly visible – the little boy who had dropped it had disappeared with his mother.’

‘He wasn’t hurt or anything?’

‘No, only his vanity.’

Kingston smiled. ‘Poor bugger,’ he chuckled.

‘When he looked up and I realized it was Alex, we both burst out laughing.’

‘That’s hilarious, Kate.’

‘It really was. I still look upon it as divine intervention.’

‘Hope he offered to pay for the glasses.’

‘Absolutely. He left the shop a hundred and twenty pounds poorer, but not without talking me into a date for dinner the following weekend.’

‘So, when did the two of you finally get married?’ Kingston asked.

‘It was about three months after the glasses episode. At a civil ceremony in Bath. I’m afraid I gave Alex conniptions – I dropped the ring and it rolled into a grating. It was another twenty minutes before the ceremony was able to continue.’

The rumble and buffeting of a passing truck jolted Kate back to the present.

She shifted in her seat to face Alex.

‘What are you smiling at?’ he asked, glancing at her.

‘Oh, nothing in particular – mostly about Kingston. I wonder how he’s doing?’