Her Name Was Rose: The gripping psychological thriller you need to read this year. Claire Allan

Her Name Was Rose: The gripping psychological thriller you need to read this year - Claire  Allan


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sure that’s not true,’ I said, thinking that the goodness – the love for his son – was oozing right out of him.

      ‘Oh it’s true,’ Cian said. ‘It’s like he got all her best bits – her temperament, her smarts, her beautiful blue eyes. At times when I look at him, he pulls a face or something and it’s like looking right at her. It’s the nicest thing in the world and a kick in the teeth at the same time.’

      ‘It must be hard, I’m sorry. I can’t think of anything to say that will make a difference. It’s just rubbish.’

      ‘Yes,’ he said, shaking his head slightly. ‘It’s just rubbish. But Jack, he’s good. He’s the good in all of this.’

      ‘I’m sure you’re a great dad. He’s lucky to have you,’ I said.

      ‘Thank you,’ Cian replied, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts all the same. He put the chocolate biscuit he had selected back in the tin and his cup on the table. I had a feeling he was going to say something more but the door opened and in walked Donna and Owen, the latter holding baby Jack who whooped with delight on seeing his father and threw himself forward, arms wide, towards Cian who pulled him into a hug and kissed the top of his head.

      ‘Cian,’ Owen said. ‘We didn’t expect to see you.’

      ‘I just thought I’d register Jack here. I know Rose intended to so it seemed the right thing to do.’

      ‘Well, I think that’s lovely,’ Donna said. ‘And of course, we’re always happy to see this little fella.’

      ‘But if it would upset you and Jack to come here, maybe another dentist would be a better option?’ Owen said, a serious tone to his voice.

      I watched as Cian lifted the same chocolate biscuit he had put back in the tin just a few minutes before and handed it to his son.

      ‘Everything upsets us at the minute at one level or another, Owen. If we stopped doing things just because they brought back memories of Rose, we’d never do anything. Not even wake up. She’s everywhere. It’s good for Jack to be around things that can remind him of her. God knows he won’t remember her, not in any real sense – he’s much too young. So I’ll do what it takes to keep her in his life for as long as possible.’

      I couldn’t quite pinpoint what exactly felt strange about how Cian spoke to Owen but something was off. Was it his tone? The look on his face? The way he barely blinked as they spoke? All of a sudden I felt as if I was watching something I shouldn’t be.

      I took the first opportunity I could to slip out of the kitchen and back behind the reception desk to continue with my filing.

      Not five minutes later, Donna followed Cian and Jack out of the kitchen and through the waiting area, telling him everyone was just struggling to deal with the loss of Rose and his visit had been a bit of a surprise.

      ‘You’re part of the family here,’ she said, as Cian strapped Jack back into his buggy. ‘And this wee man will always be our lucky mascot.’

      Donna crouched down and tickled Jack, who squirmed and giggled back at her. I thought of how he smiled at his mother that day, as she sang to him in the lift. Neither of them knowing what was about to happen.

      Cian thanked Donna and they hugged briefly. I tried not to stare, or to think what it would be like if I had his arms around me. ‘We’ll see you for this young fella’s first check-up then? In two weeks?’

      ‘Yes,’ Cian nodded, pulling up the collar of his still sodden coat before opening the door and stepping back out into the pouring rain. I looked on as Donna watched him push the buggy away from the practice and towards the main street. As she turned on her heel to walk back to the desk, I put my head down and tried to look as if the only thing I was concentrating on was my work.

      ‘It was nice to see him,’ Tori said.

      ‘Yes,’ Donna said. ‘Look, girls, could you make sure Jack sees Sarah and not Owen the day of his appointment?’

      ‘Are you sure?’ Tori asked, and I looked over to them. Sarah, an old school dentist in her late fifties, worked with us part-time, and normally she didn’t work with the younger children.

      ‘Yes,’ Donna said. ‘I’m sure.’

      Again, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something was off about the whole situation.

       Chapter Ten

      Of course I had decided to leave my car at home that day, it hadn’t been raining that morning and it was often quicker and easier to walk to Shipquay Street than to try and beat the morning traffic from Northland Road. So by the time I got home that evening, I was soaked to the skin. There was nothing for it but to strip off and stand under a hot shower until I warmed up. I had dressed in my pyjamas, wrapped my hair in a towel and was staring into a mug of milky tea when I heard my phone ping with a notification. Hoping it was Maud texting to see if I needed to chat – because I really did feel as if I needed to chat – I lifted my phone and unlocked the screen.

      I swear I thought my heart would stop beating when I saw a message request from Cian Grahame.

      *

      I stared at the name in front of me. The icon beside his name was the same profile picture I had been looking at for the better part of the last two months. It was him. Actually him. The last person on earth I ever thought would message me.

      I threw my phone onto the cushion beside me as if it were suddenly too hot to hold. Cian Grahame was messaging me. I wanted to both read the message and not read the message. I was simultaneously curious and scared. Intrigued and freaked out. I involuntarily muttered a quick ‘fuck’ and lifted my phone again, turning it round and clicking the accept message button so that his words popped up in front of me.

       Emily,

       I just wanted to thank you for the kindness you showed me when I came to the surgery with Jack today – and to apologise for the manner in which I spoke to you. Especially when I first arrived at Scott’s. I know you understand how hard this is for me – and I appreciate that you listened while I ranted and raged in the staff room after. People, they don’t always listen. Not really. Grief gets tired for other people pretty quickly. But you listened – and you listened without prejudice. As an outsider – someone who could perhaps give me a bit of a healthier perspective on things.

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