Blue Bedroom and Other Stories by Rosamunde Pilcher Read Free Book Online Page B

the pale, cloudless sky, herald of a perfect day. A breeze blew in from the sea and stirred the daisy-patterned curtains. The curtains matched the wallpaper and the frills around the quilted bed, and had been chosen by Laurie’s mother when Laurie was thirteen and away at boarding school. She remembered coming home to the totally redecorated bedroom and having to hide her dismay, because in her heart of hearts she yearned for a room as neat and austere as a ship’s cabin, with whitewashed walls and space for all her books, and a bed like Grandfa’s, with drawers underneath and a little ladder to climb when you wanted to get into it.
    Happy the bride the sun shines on. She listened and from far beneath her, in the depth of the old house, she heard a door open and shut and one of the dogs start to bark. She knew that her mother was already up and about, probably making an early morning cup of tea and sitting at the kitchen table, composing what must surely be the last of her hundreds of lists of things to do.
    Fetch Aunt Blanche from station.
    Hairdresser. Will she need lunch?
    Robert to florist for carnations.
    Dogs’ dinner. DON’T FORGET.
    Happy the bride the sun shines on. Across the upstairs landing, in the other little attic bedroom, Jane presumably slumbered. Jane had never been an early riser, and the fact that this was her wedding morning was unlikely to break the lifelong habit of twenty-five years. Laurie pictured her, blonde and rosy, her hair tangled and the old eyeless teddy bear jammed under her chin. The teddy bear was a source of mild annoyance to their mother, who did not think that he should accompany Jane on her honeymoon. Laurie agreed that he did not go with pristine negligées and romance, but Jane had a way of sweetly agreeing with whatever was demanded of her and then doing the very opposite, so Laurie was fairly sure that this evening the bear would be right there, in the bridal suite of some expensive hotel.
    Her imagination wandered on down through the house. To the double guest room where her elder brother and his wife slept. To the old nurseries where their children were tucked into inherited cots. She thought of her father, perhaps beginning to stir; to open his eyes, to give thanks for the fine weather, and then to start worrying. About the car park arrangements, the quality of the champagne, the fact that his morning suit trousers had had to be let out. The bills.
    â€œWe can’t afford a big wedding,” he had stated firmly the moment the engagement was announced. And the others had chimed in in much the same vein, but perhaps for different reasons. “We don’t want a big wedding,” Jane had said. “Perhaps a registry office and a little lunch afterwards.”
    â€œWe don’t want a big wedding,” her mother had agreed weakly, “but the village will expect it. I suppose we could have something very simple…”
    Which left Laurie and Grandfa to make their contributions to the discussion. Laurie made no contribution at all, being at Oxford at the time of the engagement, and totally involved with tutorials and lectures, but Grandfa came down solidly on the side of what he called a bit of a splash. “Only got two daughters,” he told Laurie’s parents. “What’s the point of some hole-in-the-corner ceremony? No need to have a marquee. Clear the furniture out of the drawing room, and if it’s a nice day, the guests can move out onto the lawn…”
    *   *   *
    She could hear him saying it. She turned over in bed and buried her face in the pillow and fought against the great surge of tearless grief that threatened to engulf her, because he had been, all her life, her favourite person, her wisest counsellor, her very best friend. Jane and Robert were close in age, but Laurie had come along six years later and had always been something of a loner, almost an only child. “What a funny