A Rose For My Love

A sharp push made her trip over her long skirt and stumble to the counter.

“Go on, Nellie,” her mother hissed. “You serve him.” Flushing under the young man’s admiring gaze, the diligent young woman weighed the apples and plums he wanted to buy and placed them in his basket.

“That’s twopence please, Sir.” Refusing to raise her embarrassed green eyes to his, she hurriedly returned to her duties before he had a chance to thank her.

“Oh, honestly girl! You’ll never find yourself a husband if you carry on like this. That was a handsome young man if ever I saw one, and dressed to the nines, too. A man of quality, he was, and he took quite a fancy to you.”

Nellie and her mother ran a greengrocer shop in Glastonbury. All day long they heard horses and traps clacking along the cobbled lanes, knowing the folk from the countryside were coming into town to stock up their larders. The drapers would be bustling with ladies choosing fine velvets and laces for their seamstresses to sew gowns in the latest styles.

All manner of tourists came to shop, and to drink the Somerset cider in public houses on their day out, usually exhausted from the climb up the famous Tor. Life was busy for the two women. They were proud of the shop they ran by themselves and, although naturally shy, Nellie enjoyed the work.

By the end of the day they were worn out. Lately, the older lady’s aching joints were a reminder that it was time Nellie got married.

Hopefully, she’ll settle down with a wealthy husband, she thought, so I can retire and live out the rest of my days with them in comfort.

The problem was William, the young man who held Nellie’s heart. He hadn’t returned from the war with the Zulus and no one knew what had become of him. Every night, she looked out at the stars and was comforted by the fact that he, too, was somewhere under the same sky.

“Two years is a long time, my love,” her mother said one evening. “I know it’s a terrible thought, but he’ll never come back. You’re living your whole life as if he’s coming home tomorrow. It’s such a waste!”

“But Mam, I can’t make myself stop loving him and start loving someone else just because you want me to.” Nellie’s eyes filled with tears. “I have to believe in him. He said he’d come back for me and he will!”

Spring turned into summer and summer turned into autumn and still there was no news of William. There was a crisp chill in the air and when the door opened, dry multicoloured sycamore leaves scratched across the stone floor. Shivering, Nellie and her mother dug out their warm woollen shawls and thick layered skirts from the bottom drawer.

One Sunday after church, they were sat knitting in front of the open fire, the flames throwing gold onto their faces. There was a tap at the door.

“Who can be calling at this time of day?” Nellie said.

By the time she opened the door, there was no one there. She stood for a moment, looking up and down the street. Then she saw it.

Just a few feet down the road on the cobbles lay a rose. On top of a long elegant stem was the most deliciously rich red rose she had ever seen. Closing the front door behind her, she went to pick it up and held it to her nose as she breathed in its elegant scent.

The breeze brushed past her and caught a pile of leaves ahead making them swirl up into the air to reveal another rose laying nonchalantly in the road. Holding up her billowy skirts, she ran towards it and picked it up. It was a matching rose from the same bouquet; somebody must be dropping them as they walked.

She saw another; the wind had caught it and blown it onto a stone window ledge. A gaggle of people walked ahead of her, and she followed them holding the three roses. One of the women, not seeing another bloom on the ground, crushed it underfoot. Nellie gingerly picked it up and added it to her collection.

She came to a fork in the road and for a moment wondered which direction to take. But then she caught sight of another flash of red among the leafy debris to her left. After lifting it up, she saw another further on, then another, until there were twelve altogether.

She carried on walking, mystified, carrying the magnificent bouquet of glowing red roses and letting her legs instinctively guide her onwards.

“Nellie, my love!” William’’s familiar voice called from behind her. She gasped.  At first, she didn’t turn in case she’d imagined it.

“You found the roses then?”

“They’re beautiful,” she said, turning to see his handsome lean face. She ran into his arms.

“No. Seeing you for the first time in two years, that’s what I call beautiful.”

He held her at arm’s length, taking in all the glory of her. His neatly groomed moustache framed his smile as he began to explain where he had been all this time but she put her finger to his lips.

“Nay, Will,” she said. “There’s plenty of time for that. All that matters is that you are here and safe. That’s all I need for now.” She watched relief take over his face.

Then, as she slowly looked over her man, disbelief still on her face, she saw he was dressed richly for the occasion. He steadily lowered himself onto one knee and took out an emerald and gold ring from his waistcoat pocket.

He didn’t have a chance to say “Nellie Godfrey, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

She was already weeping with joy and covering his face with kisses.

---

Looking for more romantic reads? Enjoy these!

• Love Me Today – Poetry
• The Wilderness Between Us, Part 1 & Part 2 – Romance Fiction
• In the Mediterranean at Midnight – Romance Fiction
• Research in Love for My Welfare – Poetry
• By the Light of the Moon Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, & Part 4