A Royal Rose

Chapter One

Taking his hand, she led him through the front door, locking it behind her. It was past midnight and the street outside was deadly silent. The cute laughing man who was also drunk, nearly tripped over the mat as he entered the house. The house echoed slightly due to the sparseness of furniture inside. “Am I alright to smoke in here?” he asked, reaching into his coat pocket for a packet of cigarettes.

“Sure, as long as you open a window” Rose replied but wondering why he hadn’t had one outside on the walk here. Unsure what to do whilst her guest smoked, she looked blankly into a corner of the room, focusing on a pealing piece of wallpaper near the kickboard. Catching a glimpse of herself in the living room mirror, she tucked her white blonde hair behind her ears, whilst the man carried on smoking out of the window. even though he had opened it to let the smoke out, the smell was still present in the room. Rose wasn’t feeling okay today; the smell of nicotine and the copious amounts of alcohol had only appeared to have deepened her upset.

Today had been an emotional day, she’d buried her grandmother, the last of her family, and now Rose had nothing left in the world but the small number of belongings upstairs in her bedsit room.

Rose was nearly 30 and had left an abusive marriage behind her and because she’d left her ex-husband so quickly to escape his violent fist, she’d left behind most of her old life too. Visions of him appeared in her nightmares, her ex-husband used to come back from work, nights out, whenever and beat her to a pulp after the slightest thing went wrong. Rose was his punching bag and one day, he broke her nose and a rib, so she went to the police. Within months, she lived in a bedsit and whilst she was pleased to be away from her ex-husband’s fist… she missed her house.

The bedsit house she lived in wasn’t terrible, but the wallpaper was peeling, dated décor, it had a musty smell, mismatched furniture and she shared it with a lady called Sarah. The other rooms in the house seemed to have more transient people live in them, students and people in-between houses but Rose had lived here for the best part of two years. She had hoped to go live with her grandmother after her marriage went sour but unfortunately, her grandmother got dementia and went into a home. The house her grandmother lived in had to be sold to pay for the care she was getting in the care home.

Watching her grandmother forgetting her and having to fit her life into a box room when all she wanted to do was have someone to talk to who loved her was heart-breaking.

All she could do to forget how much today hurt - was drink. It wasn’t the best coping strategy, but Rose knew that she would be forgiven for drowning her sorrows today of all days.

Sitting watching this stranger hiding behind the net curtain smoking was doing nothing to take her mind off the thoughts in her mind. The living room started to spin as she sat perched on the tatty brown couch arm. Deciding that another drink would be the perfect tonic for making sure she got over her current maudlin mood, she got up and walked to the kitchen. She tried her best to not hold the walls as she walked, her towering black high heeled shoes softly tapped against the grotty looking carpet below her feet. It was slightly bumpy due to its age, so Rose had to try hard not to trip over various lumps as she walked to the kitchen. On the safety of the 80’s red and black tiled floor, she opened some dated looking cupboards, various foods, mismatched plates and packets of microwavable rice with Sarah’s name scrawled on them. Finally, after pulling most of the food off the shelf, deliberately tucked away behind a selection of tall boxes she found a box of wine, it wasn’t vintage, a cheap dry white wine that probably tasted awful but at least it had alcoholic content. Grabbing a tumbler glass from another cupboard, she set the box of wine up, piercing the box and placing it over the side of the countertop. Watching it with all her concentration that she didn’t spill over the sides, especially when she lifted the very full glass to her lips, “Do you want another drink?” Rose asked loudly between gulps of the cheap tasting wine.

Hearing the window in the front room shut loudly, he appeared at the kitchen door frame. The air around him stank of smoke and his clothes smelt of stale cigarette smoke too. He wasn’t her usual type, his hair was shaved, a blonde-haired man with a round-face but he wasn’t bad looking, he was quite skinny and appeared to be a nice enough man. “Go on then” he replied in a husky voice.

“Brilliant. Although I warn you, it does taste as cheap as the box looks!” Rose said with a laugh.

She got out another glass and filled it up as high as the one she had poured for herself. She then gulped down the rest of her glass, before filling it back up again. The wine left a dryness in her mouth that was nauseating but she was past caring, she wanted to forget the day she’d had, standing in that near-empty cold church saying her goodbyes to her grandmother. Knowing that she was watching the last of her grandparent’s money, as it went into making sure her grandmother’s last wishes were respected – she wanted to be buried with her husband. Rose paid off the last of the nursing home debts with the house sale money and after the funeral was paid for, all the money was gone. Selfishly, she had hoped there would have been something left for her but there wasn’t. No good had come of this at all, there was nothing but grief to feel and it was consuming her. The pain of her grief was all she had to focus on and this alone was enough to make Rose want to down the rest of the contents of her glass. She gagged slightly at the dryness of the wine, but she was undeterred.

Now feeling the effects of the last two glasses of alcohol, she stumbled into the living room and fell onto the couch giggling for no reason. The man watched her and laughed, thinking she was hilarious she made a joke that fell flat as she messed up the punchline. Laughing it off, she couldn’t stop giggling.

He finished his glass and then went through to the living room to join her on the brown couch. The piece of furniture was showing signs of its age, the lumpy, thin seat cushions meant that they could feel the frame of the couch under their bottoms when they sat. “Come here handsome!” she said, forcing a compliment she didn’t really mean and leaning in to kiss him. As they kissed, she tried to remember his name that he’d told her in the club so in an attempt at trying to be subtle asked him as she was unbuttoning his shirt “so, do you have any nicknames?”.

The man looked at her bemused, “Lee, can’t really shorten Lee. Lofty to my mates because I’m 6 foot and a bit” he said, and he leaned forward to kiss her again. Rose was quite embarrassed, and her face had reddened, he’d already told her that. now he had said his name again, she could recall him telling her outside the chip shop on the high street. She wasn’t normally impulsive like this.

The fiddly buttons on his blue and white pinstriped shirt, slid around in her drunken grip before she gave up halfway and her fingers found the belt buckle of his light brown corded trousers instead. The belt clinked together as she undid it, she could see the outline of his shaft through the fabric of his trousers and as she removed his boxer shorts, his c**k sprung out. Feeling its hardness for herself she grinned. Lee stopped her before she could do any more and placed a condom on. Feeling daft that she hadn’t suggested it, she guided him into her, pushing her lacy knickers to one side to let his c**k in her. Very drunk and not really enjoying the s*x, she let out what she hoped was a convincing sounding fake moan. His p***s felt a reasonable size and girth inside her, his leg hair rubbed against her soft inner thigh skin as they had s*x on the couch. He sped up and Rose could feel her juices run down his c**k, they changed position and moved so that she was lying down on the sofa. Rose used the time it took them to change positions to remove her knickers and they fell into a pile next to the sofa leg. Resuming their embrace, he kissed her neck and thrust deep inside her. Rose’s black dress was gathered around her waist and he was mostly naked from the waist down, except for the pile of trousers and boxer shorts around his left ankle. Lee’s pink bottom was in the air and her tanned toned legs were wrapped around it; their activity was briefly interrupted by a phone vibrating on the nest of tables nearby. Ignoring it, they carried on. Rose was getting close to climaxing, but she heard a grunt and Lee stopped. He pulled out and adjusted his body, he sat down on the couch, moving her legs off the couch cushions so he could do so. The condom hung limply off his p***s, the tip full, Lee removed it and tied a knot at the end. Rose noticed that he saw her watching him, so she darted her eyes away to make it less awkward. Rather disappointed that she didn’t get her turn, she hastily scooped up her knickers and smoothed down her dress, returning it back around her thighs. Lee, meanwhile, was getting dressed again, his belt slid together with noise and he put his brogue shoes back on. He looked distracted and flustered. Checking his phone again after he put his coat back on, “Thanks for tonight, I’ve had fun, but we can’t do this again. A nice one-off” Lee said before he started making excuses to leave about a taxi at the bottom of the street.

Rose raised her eyebrows in surprise, “Okay, err… sure” she replied, shocked that he was so quick to leave. Wondering what she’d done wrong, Rose stood up and walked Lee to the door, “lovely to meet you Lee!” she called out sarcastically to him as he walked off down the street in the pitch black, she could see that he didn’t even turn around to say goodbye. Rose closed the front door behind her, wondering what his issue was, she didn’t need to deal with male issues, today of all days.

Disappointed her distraction had disappeared, she slumped down on the sofa to hear a key turning in the front door - her housemate Sarah came inside. The cold winter air filled the room, Sarah was wrapped up in a rose gold coloured puffer jacket and had a white woolly hat on.

“Wotcha!” Sarah greeted Rose, unwrapping her scarf from around her neck.

“Hi, how was work?” Rose asked glumly, Sarah must have just finished her night shift at the factory as she smelt like the place she worked.

“I’m doing well thanks, but Rose, some woman from your gran’s nursing home dropped off a box of her stuff today,” Sarah said as she gestured towards a medium sized cardboard box in the corner of the living room.

“I’ll look at it tomorrow Sarah. Sorry. I’m off to bed. I’ve had an absolutely s**t day, and I need to get some sleep. My hangover tomorrow is going to be horrific!” Rose sighed.

“It is okay. Don’t worry. You’ve had a bloke here too by the looks of things. Bet you’re knackered!” Sarah said jokingly, “night. Say hello to whoever you have stashed away in your room!”

Rose wanted to go to bed so didn’t bother correcting her, to tell her housemate that I had brought someone back, but they fled the minute after we f****d!

The next day, the sun beamed through the old Victorian sash window, the thin floral curtains in Rose’s room did little to stop the light getting in and her head was pounding from the night before although she suspected she was still a bit drunk now. Getting up and walking over to her bedroom door she grasped her cream, fluffy coloured dressing gown from the door hook and wandered downstairs to get a glass of water. Her mouth was dry, and her tongue felt all fussy from the hangover dehydration. The water felt like sweet relief on the back of her throat, it is cold, tasteless feel made her feel less nauseous and a quick small bowl of cereal stopped her stomach from growling at her.

Rose sat down in the living room to watch some television and to catch up on the news on her phone when she spotted out of the corner of her eye the box of her gran’s stuff. Placing the box on the table and lifting the cardboard flaps out of the way, she had a quick rifle through. Some old pictures of her grandparents, a picture of her father as a boy and then a picture of them all together that Rose couldn’t resist smiling at. Her father was holding her on his lap and her grandparents each had a hand on his shoulder – but it was her dad’s beard stood out the most to her. She could recall running her little fingers through it and giggling at the texture.

The photograph brought back so many memories, Rose was only five years old when her dad passed due to pancreatic cancer. Rose remembered that one day he was walking around fine and then the next week he was in a hospital bed with a gaunt face telling her to be a good girl for her grandparents. Recalling all her fond memories, a tear slid down her cheek, she examined the photographs smiling faces – a perfect moment frozen in time.

Checking the time on her phone, she saw that it was early enough, and that Sarah would still be asleep for hours. So, Rose decided to let all her emotions out and have a good cry without having to talk to anyone about how she was feeling. The more she thought about it, the more tears that fell, she quickly became a snotty mess. Seizing a tissue from the tissue box near her and blowing her nose, she crunched the tissue up and accidentally knocked it into the cardboard box below. It had landed at the bottom and next to it she spotted an off-white letter with curled up edges up amongst all the other random objects in the box. Rose pulled the paper out slightly to see it had writing on it. Her name was clearly written in bold on the front of the aged envelope in her grandmother’s handwriting, so she dug it out from the bottom of the box and eagerly ripped it open.

A pang of emotions came across her when she saw her grandmother’s beautiful penmanship staring back at her.

“Our dearest Rose,

When you read this, your grandfather and I will have both passed. We loved you so very much Rose and never forget that your father adored you too.

I will always remember the day you came into our lives. You were a baby in a basket, left on our doorstep with a note attached to your blanket. Your father was only a young adult at the time, so all three of us raised you together. It was one of the greatest times in my life, having the most important people in my life in the same house together.

There was a note attached to your blanket, it was from your mother. It said she had to give you up, but she wanted you to be raised by your father. The note also said that your mother loved you, wished she could have kept you and that on your eighteenth birthday you should visit her. I have written the address she wrote down on that original note. However, once when you were little your father visited the address she had written down, but there was nothing there just a field with some trees in.

Here is the address she gave below.

The Holt, Greenbrier Farm, Ainesthorpe.

Good luck with the search for your birth mother. Sorry we didn’t give you this information earlier, but you’d just started your new life with your husband, and we didn’t want to spoil that! I hope you can understand.

All our love, Gran and Pops”