Wild Rose Chapter 5

Wild Rose
Chapter Five – A New Life

Rose opened the wine, her hands trembling slightly. She couldn’t make sense of what was happening—none of it. But she knew one thing: it wasn’t going away.

She sat curled into the corner of the cosy living room, her gaze drifting over the wall of old family photographs. Familiar faces smiled back at her—snapshots of birthdays, holidays, lives that once seemed so certain. One frame caught her eye. Her aunt, Edith, standing beside a tall, striking man. There was something about him—his face… it tugged at Rose’s memory, but she couldn’t quite place him.

Still holding the glass of wine, she wandered into the kitchen.

The unopened letter from that morning was still lying on the table. She picked it up, tore it open carefully, and began to read.

> Dearest Mummy,

I hope this letter finds you well? I’m hoping you’ve settled into your new home and all is good.

I’m not going to beat around the bush—I have something exciting to tell you. I’d have loved to do it in person, but time and work commitments have made that tricky.

Milly is expecting.

You’re going to be a grandma!

I’m so happy, and I hope you are too. I’ve got some time off in October—if it’s okay, we’d love to come visit and celebrate properly.

Much love,

Dylan

Rose put the letter down, tears welling in her eyes.

> A grandmother. I’m going to be a grandmother.

Her head spun. Of course she was happy—thrilled—this was the day she’d waited for, dreamt of. And if that didn’t call for a celebratory glass (or three) of red, nothing did.

She uncorked another bottle, this time pouring it into Edith’s old crystal decanter. A small ritual. A nod to the past.

Her eye caught the dusty old record player in the corner, flanked by a stack of worn vinyls. She knelt down and flipped through them.

Mario Lanza. PJ Proby. The Beatles—ugh, not today. Then her fingers landed on Elvis.

> Viva Las Vegas.

Perfect.

She placed the needle, and the room filled with brass and swagger. Rose grinned, kicked off her shoes, and began to sway. Hips swinging, arms wide, glass in hand. The wine flowed like water and the music wrapped around her like silk.

By the end of the album—and most of the decanter—Rose collapsed onto the sofa, cheeks flushed, heart light.

> All Elvised out.

> A grandmother.

She let out a breathless laugh.

> What a frigging hoot.

And then, still smiling, she drifted into a deep, wine-soaked sleep.