Wishful Thinking (a journey that will change lives forever) Read Free Page B

said, had she been alive today to see her grandchildren.
    “And afterwards I thought we might go and have a nice lunch and have a chat about it all – what do you think?”
    Rosie was thrilled.  That sounded lovely actually. A nice old gossip with her daughter was just what she needed.  Although they spoke often on the phone, she hadn’t seen Sophie in a while, and she wanted to tell her all her news, and of course she wouldn’t mind confiding in someone about how her back was starting to give her more trouble
    and . . .
    Rosie jumped, as the flashy-looking sports car in front of them beeped noisily.
    “What do you think?” Sophie grinned, proudly waving her keys.  
    “Is this yours?” Rosie gasped in surprise at the car.  A brand new car?  Despite herself, she couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt.  If her car was no longer giving her trouble, and indeed it didn’t look likely, why hadn’t Sophie collected her from the station, instead of having her wait twenty minutes in the cold and then another twenty in the bus?  And how on earth would they get a baby-seat into that tiny thing?
    “Yep,” Sophie confirmed happily.
    “But what about the old one?  The one that was giving you trouble?”
    “Well, I told you the other car was having a service because I wanted this to be a surprise!” Sophie suddenly looked crestfallen.  “Don’t you like it?”
    “Of course I do, love.” Seeing the disappointed look on her daughter’s face, Rosie felt guilty.  For some reason, Sophie had decided that this new car would be a huge surprise for her mother, although why that would be the case, Rosie didn’t know – well, it was a huge surprise but not an altogether pleasant one.  Still, she’d better humour her. “It’s lovely, Sophie – I can’t wait to get a good spin in it.”
    “Well, you won’t have long to wait!” Her good humour instantly restored, Sophie opened the driver door and sat princess-like in front of the steering wheel, while her mother eased herself into the passenger seat.   She tilted forward the rear-view mirror and applied a fresh coat of lipstick.  “Ready then?” she asked, turning the key in the ignition.
    “Yes.” Rosie’s back ached from trying to manoeuvre herself into what in her opinion amounted to little more than a biscuit tin.  Sophie’s swerving and quick lane-changing all the way to Malahide didn’t help much either.  
    About fifteen minutes later, they pulled onto a quiet tree-lined cul-de-sac. 
    Rosie was sure that behind all those large expensive wrought-iron gates, intercoms and granite stonework were equally large and expensive houses – houses that were way beyond the reach of a currently part-time insurance clerk and her department-store manager husband.  There was a For Sale sign outside the one at the end, but surely Sophie wasn’t even dreaming of . . .
    But Sophie slowed the car in front of the house, rolled down the window and pushed the intercom button.  “Sophie Morris – I have an appointment for an eleven o’clock viewing,” she announced, in this strange haughty voice that Rosie had never heard her use before.  
    “Certainly, Ms Morris, I’ll open the gates for you now.”
    “Sophie, surely you couldn’t be thinking of buying a house like this?  It must cost an absolute fortune.”
    “Well, in the scheme of things, it isn’t that expensive actually,” Sophie replied airily. “Anyway, I just want you to take a look at it first and see what you think.  We’ll discuss the rest later.”
    ‘The rest? What rest?’ Rosie wanted to ask.
    But just then it hit her.  Just then she realised why Sophie was so eager to show her this house today, why her daughter had been so been so cheerful and attentive these last few weeks, ringing her often to see how she was.  Rosie had to give her credit, to be fair. Sophie had bided her time and had waited until well after her father’s death before she once again asked ‘The