'Rose, you've always been my baby, but, out of the three of you, you were the one who was most self—sufficient, who followed the beat of her own drum... Olivia washed off on you so much in your young life. I guess because you were her only niece and she couldn't have a child of her own. You were like a daughter to her too and you make me so proud, I love you Darling.' The emotion in her mother's voice was raw, her mother obviously just wanted to get it out there, between them. An acknowledgement that dismissing her aunts name in conversation was not because they didn't miss or love her. It was because it was still so hard to accept she was gone.

'I love you too Mum. Look I really should go, I'm starting to burn, and I think Muffin is crossing his legs, he needs out.' Rose didn't really want to end the call, but her heart ache was becoming a little too prominent, she didn't want to upset her mother more by asking her to stop talking about Olivia.

They said their goodbyes and she hung up the phone quickly, sighing to herself before turning, rolling to her knees to get up from the ground. She was about to head into the cottage when the sound of tyres on the gravel behind her alerted her to a visitor and halted her in her tracks.

Turning to see the small red post van approaching she pasted on her friendly smile, although he came daily they had never actually met as he usually posted letters through the slot while she was still inside cleaning and fixing up her new abode. Today she had been up and outside early to get some much—needed sun and it was about time she met her mailman.

As soon as the van pulled near, it parked by her rickety gate and she was faced with a little, old, red—cheeked man, with white receding hair and a smart royal mail uniform in navy blue. As he rounded his van with a handful of letters he smiled her way with a devilish twinkle in his merry face.

'Hello my dear. How are you? So nice to see what you look like at last.' He almost gushed at her when she straightened herself and tried to smooth down her dishevelled, grubby clothes. Rose extended her hand to meet his outstretched palm as he pushed mail under his armpit to shake it.

'Hi there, I'm fine, thanks. Yes, all moved in and settling well, now I have the place cleaned up a bit more.' Rose beamed at the friendly face, she had walked halfway down the path to meet the small man, who was now retrieving her post and taking the letters he was holding to her, she noted he had another in his right hand that he seemed to be holding back.

'Well my dear, there's been a lot of talk, you know...At the church!

All about our new inhabitant and the lack of your presence in town; will be nice to tell them all it's a very pretty young lady.' He continued smiling her way.

'Be away with you now...' She giggled at his obvious charm. 'Young maybe, not sure about the very pretty!' She gushed and decided she liked this man, there was something familiar about him in a very genteel way.

'Oh, weesht now lassie, take a compliment! Here, I have something extra for you... Mr Munro has asked me to deliver this here personally.' He held out the long golden envelope in his other hand towards her briskly, extending it to Rose, who took it politely with a smile.

'Thank you.' She took the long, smooth envelope, still frowning and still confused; the look all over her face.

'It's an invitation to the annual charity dance.' he said as if in answer to her look. 'It's time they all met our newest community member.' His smile was genuine and bright and Rose felt herself smiling back.

'Well, thank you, Mr...?' Rose lifted eyebrows towards him, to encourage a name at least, if she was going to see him frequently then a name would be nice.

'Oh Hen, it's Tommy. Call me Tommy. I'm the caretaker for the big house as well as the village postie... Well, the misses and I, we take care of the repairs like... And I'm the one who was patching up this place in Miss Olivia's absence.' He patted the gate frame affectionately. The mention of her name caused a saddened look on both of their faces and he bowed his head. Rose couldn't help but notice the genuine reaction, guessing right that he'd known her aunt well and it explained the familiarness to her.

'Well, thank you so much! It means a lot to me that you cared for this place... She was my aunt... I used to come here a lot in the summers. Did you know her well?' Rose said gently, curious as to whether she had previously known this fellow in her childhood, even though her gut told her so.

'Oh, my goodness!!! Miss Rose? Little Miss Rose Turner? You know I thought you looked a lot like Miss Olivia when you opened the door, and now you say it! Damn, I see it!' He was almost jumping on the spot, pumping her hand enthusiastically again, his little red cheeks now overtaking his whole face. 'Same exotic beauty she had, and those dark brown eyes!'

'I am yes, I'm sorry I don't...' She was trying to get a word in edgeways, pulling her hand free from his hot embrace but his renewed energetic state had him cutting in over her.

'Of course, you won't remember me! You were such a wee thing, I never really saw much of you; just the odd glimpse in passing. The wife though, she used to bring you her jam tarts, because you had a sweet tooth and always gave her such a warm welcome.' As soon as he said it, the memory in Rose's head was jarred to the forefront. A pleasant round lady who always brought her tissue paper wrapped confectioneries, whenever she had been here for holiday.

'Oh yes, I do remember her. And those tarts! Of course, I remember her! ... Alice was her name, I'm sure, right? ... It's such a small world, isn't it?' Rose could see his smile widening to a grin, obvious devotion to his wife and confirming her memory was accurate.

'Yes! It's Alice and it really is, I can't tell you how made up I am that Olivia's niece is our new member. We were all worried that some American had moved in as there's been talk, you know? Of a Yank around here.' He leaned in with a whispered frown as though spies could possibly here him insulting an American.

Rose laughed, knowing only too well the small—town mentality on newcomers, especially those they classed as foreign. Like children whispering in fear of a strange intruder to their lands. She shook her head and beamed at him a little more.

'Well can you tell her that I said hello. And, I remember her tarts, and cakes, so fondly.' Rose was feeling more relaxed in the presence of this man. Somehow, she knew this is what she had wanted, a reminder of the people she would soon get to know. Olivia's people and the reason she had always felt so at home here.