Rose Holland (Prologue)

This is a book I've been trying to start for about two years now, I just want to know what you guys think of it and please don't be afraid to give criticism, I really appreciate it, it's incredibly helpful. Other than that enjoy.

Prologue

My finger paused on the door bell part of me was still wondering whether it would be a good idea to ring it or not, the other part was too excited and curious to care. I’d hardly had any contact with my father since I was seven, only attending his funeral last year with my mum. It was like attending the funeral of a stranger. It had been quite event with only a few other people there, a woman was crying and kept starring at me, uncomfortably so, I remembered her face so well, light blue eyes and short silvery dishevelled hair, she was so thin and gaunt looking. A man accompanied her and they left as soon as the funeral was over, not attending the reception. I had heard that my father had died in a car accident, though I knew nothing else about him not wanting to question the matter in case I upset my mum. Actually it would be fair to say I’d given him little thought for years before the funeral. My mother usually talked badly of him, though I could tell that part of her still loved him as she had not been out with anyone else since the day he left her. When I was younger I had always thought of him as a terrible person abandoning mum and me, and hated him for it, though as I grew up I’d thought less and less of him, my mind sometimes not crossing the subject for months at a time.

However, two weeks ago I’d received a phone call from someone called Mat Smith, he’d said he was one of my father’s friends, he’d known him well, and we had met once when I was about five years old, I wouldn’t remember him but he remembered me very well. He also said he’d spent the last year trying to find me as he had something incredibly important which my father had left him in his will to pass on to me. That was the part that fascinated me and the reason why I was standing outside his flat now, what could possibly be so important that had caused this stranger to spend a year trying to contact me? And if it was important why had my father left it in the hands of this person I’d met once over twenty years ago? How had my father known him? I longed to know the answers and intended ask Mat today, I was not going to let fear get the best of me. But what if the guy was some kind of raving lunatic, he might be the nicest person in the world for all I knew, but still something just didn’t seem right about it. My mind flashed back wildly over the last few weeks and all the arguments I’d considered for doing this.

I woke in the early hours of the morning, there was a gentle glow from the moon which across the bedroom floor and the only sounds which could be heard were the those of my fiancée Colin snoring, the light pitter-patter of rain outside our window and the occasional passing of a car.

I took a quick look at the alarm clock and groaned, five-thirty in the morning, in twelve hours I’d been leaving my office at work, then back home to cook dinner for when Colin arrived. We’d lie on the sofa together for the rest of the evening and at about eleven o’clock decide to go to bed. This was the usual daily routine that I’d become stuck in, though lately I’d been waking up earlier and earlier, I just had so many thoughts going through my head about the wedding and all our plans for the future and how we were going to live our lives, weather we would have children or not, if we did we’d have to move out of this tiny flat, hopefully even one day get someplace in the countryside, were we’d settle down and grow old. The thoughts didn’t annoy me that much, in fact I liked thinking about the future possibilities, I always had. The thoughts also meant I got in to work earlier and got more stuff sorted out during the day. I ran my own business in the North of London which dealt with people who either wanted to get a divorce or wanted counselling to try and get their marriage back on track.

Beside me Colin flipped himself over like a whale and snored even louder. I started at him for a few moments lovingly, at his tousled blond hair, his statue like chiselled face and his muscular bare chest, taking in each part in separately and with equal appreciation. Then, deciding I was not going to approach a state of sleep again, especially with Colin snoring so loudly next to me, I got up, grabbed some clothes from the wardrobe and headed for the shower.

An hour later I arrived at work, it had stopped raining and there was a gentle glow off the pavement, the sun was gradually lifting its head up streaking the sky will colours of red, pink and purple. I walked up the marble steps and unlocked the cream wooden door, which swung open to reveal a dark hallway lined with doors on either side. Everything seemed so still and solitary and an eerie silence lit the building. I walked up the wooden stairs at the end of the long corridor to my office. Sitting down at my desk I sighed, reluctant to start working. I opened a draw and pulled out a file which read, “Mr and Mrs Kendal” an American couple who were my most recent case, absentmindedly I flicked though their papers, thinking more about my wedding than their latest counselling discussion. A sudden beeping from the answering machine on my desk interrupted my reverie.

“Hello” came a husky old man’s voice, great probably another person looking for divorce, “My name’s Mathew Smith, I believe that this is Eggalsbe and co. Divorce agents.”

“You would be right there” I said slightly annoyed that this man had interrupted my very important thought process. But I suppose I did need to start concentrating on my work at some point today. There was a pause and then the Mat coughed and continued.

“Right, well I’m sorry if this is the wrong number.” My hand flew to the phone now concisely aware that this man would bring in business which meant money which I desperately needed for the wedding right now. I was about to lift it up when...

“I was looking to speak to one Rose Holland, I was a great friend of your father’s. Yes, knew him very well.” He chuckled to himself and continued, “Sad about his death though, I was sorry.” I lifted my hand off the phone no longer sure of what to do. “He left something very important with me to give to you, ‘make sure this gets to Rosie’ was the last thing he ever said to me, and I have done just that, been looking for you all year. Yes, well I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.” And then the line went dead, a sonorous moan filled the office for what seemed like a lifetime, but which could have no more than two seconds.

I was frozen, thoughts whizzing through my head at the speed of light, who was this guy? Why had he just hung up like that? He said he had something to give to me? But what on earth was it? I had not spoken to my father in twenty years, and then all of a sudden this man turns up out of the blue, perhaps I was just imagining it, it had been such a stressful time recently, wasn’t that what happened when people became overstressed in some cases, they started to imagine stuff? I pressed reply on the answering machine. Yes, for sure the man repeated exactly those words. This was to weird, I didn’t like it at all, in recent years I’d taken to having nothing to do with my father. I also noticed at the end this time he said we would meet soon, what on earth did that mean?

“Hello,” the voice made me jump I had not noticed Cindy my secretary entering the room, “bit lackadaisical are we today?” she said in her welsh accent, passing me a cup of tea.

“Thanks, yeah, sorry, just thinking about the wedding” I smiled up into her blue eyes.

The rest of the day passed smoothly, however my thoughts did not leave the message once. I kept going back over and over it until I got the feeling that I was driving myself mad. I left work early, it had been raining and there was a gentle glow off the pavement, and I skidded down the street to the tube station, leaping on the seventeen nineteen to Balham along the jubilee line. I sat down exhausted, by the time I got home I was pretty much wiped out, hitting the play button on my answering machine, I walked into the kitchen and began preparing dinner, there was a message from my mum about coming down at the weekend and then one from my best friend Charlie about this new guy she’d met last night in a bar and how romantic he had been and then, I froze. His voice filled the air, that husky sore throated sound to it, almost like he had smoked too many cigarettes.

“Hello, sorry Ms. Holland about the voice message I left earlier at you’re work this morning, I suspect you found it rather blunt and disturbing. Anyway, like I said my name is Mat Smith, I can’t tell you anymore than I’ve already said I’m afraid your father forbade me to do so, he wanted us to talk in person you see. Please don’t be afraid to call me my number is 07789546213, that’s 07789546213, I’ll look forward to talking to you, goodbye for now, Mat.”

I wouldn’t tell Colin about this, I was worried it would upset him and I didn’t want him to find out that I had been keeping it a secret from him either in fact, I wanted nothing to do with this strange man, but still something about him intrigued me. I replayed the message and scribbled down the number, putting the piece of paper in the back pocket of my trousers, then, deleted the message.

I carried on as normal for the rest of the evening, cooking dinner for Colin and then settling down on the sofa with him and disusing wedding plans, which for some reason I did not seem nearly so interested in anymore, he asked me if anything was wrong and I said, “no, I just miss you, haven’t seen you all day.” So he smiled and kissed me and took me off to bed.

It was the next morning when things really started to kick off though; I woke up early as usual and made my way as fast as I could to the office. Once there I picked up the phone and arranged a date and time when I could meet up with Mat, I didn’t even think about what I was doing until I put the phone down, I was just to curios. Curiosity had always been my week point, it was one of the reasons why I’d tried to think so little of my father, I didn’t want to remember all the bad things about him, try and look for something good and then be disappointed as I had been so many times before. And one of the reasons why I was so confused now, standing outside Mat’s small house just outside of London and still wondering why on earth I was doing this, when I’d tried so hard to forget everything.

A voice from behind me made me jump, “So I suppose your Rose Holland then?”