Chapter Twenty-Nine-1

"Rosie! I ought to ask for your autograph!" expressed Betty, mocking me in my early evening arrival. "You've been reading the papers, then?" I sighed, shrugging off my unease and settling straight into my nightly duties. I started by refilling her jug of water and topped her up with some earl grey tea, minus the milk. "I have and let me tell you, they are all a bunch of tossers!" "Betty!" I exclaimed, trying my hardest not to laugh. The feisty woman simply shrugged her shoulders and shot me a gleeful glare. "Talking all that nonsense when they don't know you from Adam...I have a good mind to go down there and ring their bloody necks," she outraged, sipping elegantly from her cup. "And yours too for that matter, missy. You never told me about your Dad." "I didn't want to burden you with my troubles, Betty." "Oh, shut up. You could never burden me. Who's been looking after you all these months?" I contemplated fobbing her off with some lie but knew better than to even attempt it. She'd see straight through my fib and scold me if I offered up anything but the truth. "Myself. I'm more than capable." "I don't doubt it," she smiled, placing her dainty cup in its saucer. "But who has been aiding you in your needs? This Will fella?" she then asked, outright questioning my sexual involvement with him. Oh my gosh! "I refuse to answer that," I divulged, adjusting the heat in her room. Betty always did like it warm. "Well, I was only asking. It's important for a woman to feel satisfied..." "Betty Sinclair, you're making me blush. Now stop," I insisted, threatening her behaviour with my departure. "Oh, wind your neck in," she snapped, offering no apologies. "It's that same gent who found me at the cemetery, isn't it? I recognise him." "Yes, it's him," I acknowledged, seating myself at the edge of her bed. "He's in a rock band." "That's quite the occupation," she muttered, eyeing me suspiciously. "And he's responsible for the car accident that killed your Father?" I exhaled heavily and allowed my guard to completely drop, having been done with putting on a brave face. I was so accustomed to fake-smiling and although doing so out of easiness, I was slowly getting tired. The news channels still spoke of our relationship, though matters had moved on to our apparent break-up, if that's what you could even call it. I had yet to hear from Will and made no attempts myself to reach out, figuring it was for the best. "He was driving the other car, yes," I replied, staring at an old photograph of Betty's younger self sitting in the lap of her husband, Jim. Her hair was jet black and reached the bottom of her waist, polka straight. Jim was every inch the hunk in his pressed shirt and military uniform. My guess was that he had acquired such an outfit from his time doing national service and judging by the look on his face, he was mighty proud. He held the girl of his dreams in his strong arms and looked lovingly into her hazel eyes, conveying more than just basic happiness. The man was crazy in love and it hurt to know he was no longer around. "You don't half pick em!" she accused, bringing me from my trance. "Although, I can see why you did. He's very handsome." "He is," I laughed, imagining his gorgeous features perfectly. "He's gone now, though. We're no longer in touch." "Why on earth not?" she asked, angered by such a thought. "It's a little complicated, Betty," I began, breaking all sorts of rules by divulging such details. I was responsible for her care and burdening her with my problems was definitely not in my job description. "My cousin hates his guts, he'd never accept us." "Christ almighty! When will you learn to not give a shit, Rosie?" she asked, amusing me with her need to cuss. "Life is too short to be worrying over such petty details. Bottom line is, you love the boy, so be with him," she encouraged, keeping it simple. "Ben will disown me," I argued, terrified of such a thing. "No he bloody won't. No one can willingly walk away from you, sweet girlie." "Will did," I whispered, taking a punch to the gut just thinking about it again. Betty's only response was to laugh. "And I give it a week tops before he comes crawling back. He'll realise his mistakes and come knocking. You watch." "I don't think so." "You underestimate me, Rosie. You forget I've been around a lot longer than you." she retaliated, stern in her saying so. "He'll be back." I wanted to believe her, through struggled to comprehend such an outcome. Will was adamant in his need to walk away before inflicting any more hurt on my family and although upsetting, I understood his motives. He knew I couldn't choose between them both, so offered to do so for me by taking himself out of the equation. "I think you might be wrong this time, Betty," I sighed, removing the non-existent lint on my trousers. "I think he's gone for good." The inevitable show of tears threatened their arrival and stung the backs of my eyes with no regard for my wellbeing what so ever. I didn't particularly want to cry in front of Betty but my body obviously had other ideas. I had yet to express such an emotion and I could no longer hold it all in.