This is a reimagined version of the classic tale---The Bridge to Terabithia. This is a part of my NaNoWriMo or Novel Writing November exercise.
ROSEMONTE GREENE
As the cabbie drove Leonie through the winding roads of the Lake District, the late afternoon sun cast golden streaks across the sweeping countryside and glimmering lakes.
A quiet lane bordered by young birches and mature rowan trees came into view.
At the end of it was Rosemonte Greene a charming old house nestled among the hills, overlooking grassy knolls, apple orchards and a small lake. The description had spoken of tranquility and views, but what caught Leonie's eye was the mention of farmhouses and nature trails in the woods.
Stretching after a long drive, Leonie stepped out of the taxi in Lake Creek District, her slender frame clad in faded jeans and a soft grey linen blouse, sleeves rolled up to her elbows revealing a sprinkling of freckles on her forearms. Her dark hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, a few stray strands framing her heart-shaped face with its determined jawline. Her eyes, a deep brown scanned the addresses on the houses as she paid the taxi driver.
The air was cool, scented with damp earth and the sweet scent of nearby alder trees. She breathed deeply, feeling a sense of... fitting into something.
She approached a nearby property where a young man was meticulously mowing his lawn. The loud hum of the mower filled the air. Oblivious to her approach, he kept the mower roaring, his tall, lean frame hunched slightly over the handle. He was wearing work clothes–worn denim cut-offs and a sweat-stained black shirt that clung to his broad shoulders. His short, unruly blond hair was tousled, sweat-dampened strands sticking to his forehead. His expression was a mask of intent focus – or perhaps an arrogant indifference – with piercing blue eyes narrowed against the sun, a sharp jawline clenched in concentration.
“ Good morning," Leonie said, raising her voice over the mower's din, her posture straight and slightly tense.
He didn't flinch, keeping his gaze on the swath of grass before him, his body language radiating a grouchiness.
"Can't you see I'm busy? Don't bother me" he tossed back, not turning down the mower, his voice low and rough-edged.
Leonie's eyebrows rose, a flicker of annoyance crossing her expressive face. "I'm your new neighbour—Hi.."
He snorted, still mowing, his shoulders shifting with the motion, a dismissive gesture. He adjusted the mower's path with a jerk, his arms corded with lean muscle sending grass clippings spraying in her direction.
Leonie took a few steps back. With her jaw set, her lips compressed into a thin line, her eyes flashing a spark of irritation before she turned away coolly to ask passersby for directions. The day had begun sourly enough….
Rosemont Greene was a darling cottage partially hidden by Silver Birches and Scots Pines, its stone walls weathered to a warm gray, a sliver of the lake was visible beyond. A path led to the front door, flanked by overgrown hydrangeas heavy with blue blooms.
She stood before it, feeling a mix of relief and curiosity. The gruff young man was growing increasingly uneasy in his own skin.
He switched off his mower abruptly, the sudden silence jarring. Wiping his sweat with the back of his hand, his expression darkened as he watched the newcomer unlock the Rosemonte Greene gate, his eyes narrowing further. That girl's renting Burke Villa…Leslie's place?? he muttered, tightening his shoulders. His stance shifted to a guarded posture. No way I'm getting friendly with her. Not gonna happen.
Jesse! Are you done with the lawn yet? It's time for lunch. Come on in…
Elaine’s voice rang out from inside the house.
****
Jesse remembered the summers he'd spent with Leslie, playing in the woods, laughing in this very district. The Rosemonte Greene held memories, some bittersweet.
His gaze lingered on Leonie as she disappeared into the house, his face a mask of controlled emotion, then with a determined stride, his long legs ate up the distance as he walked into the house and slammed the door forcefully.
Leonie, stepped into the cool lobby of the Rosemonte Greene , breathing in the scent of an old air and lingering wood polish. A door leading into the living room opened and she was approached by a woman with silver-streaked hair and warm eyes greeting her. "Leonie? I'm Mrs. Crosby, the house agent you spoke to over the phone.Welcome."
Leonie smiled, introductions were exchanged, and she followed Mrs. Crosby inside. The house had a lived-in feel, comfortable and a bit worn. They walked through a hall with paintings of the Lake Creek landscapes.
"This way," Mrs. Crosby said, leading her to her room. A desk stood by one window, an old armchair by another. Leonie felt drawn to it immediately.
"This is... amazing," Leonie said, turning to Mrs. Crosby.
Mrs. Crosby smiled. "I'm glad you like it. The rent's reasonable if you want it.The house has been given a total makeover…except for one room which is locked and no one is allowed inside. It's a smaller bedroom but you have the master bedroom to yourself."
Leonie nodded, deciding at that moment. "That's okay. I'll take it."
After they discussed details and Mrs. Crosby took her leave, Leonie began unpacking her things into the room's built-in closets, putting books on shelves and arranging her things. The space started feeling like hers quickly. She took time to settle down, her thoughts oscillating between her bold exit from Lang home and this new, uncertain chapter in this neighborhood.
Over the next couple of days, Rosemonte Greene grew on Leonie as she spent hours studying by the window or watching the play of light on the lake, taking long walks in the morning exploring the quiet woods and row of farmhouses in the countryside.
*****
Since the afternoons were mostly freed up, she decided to make good use of the time and earn rental money.A small bookshop in the nearby village, "Page & Paige", had a sign in the window – Apprentice Wanted.
Leonie pushed open the door to a bookstore, the bell above it ringing out a warm welcome. Ellen, the shop owner, looked up from behind the counter, her eyes narrowing as she took in Leonie's appearance. "Ah, you're a new face I've seen around town," she said, her voice warm and curious. "Welcome to Page & Co. I'm Ellen Paige. And you are...?"
Leonie smiled, feeling a sense of ease wash over her. "I'm Leonie. I just moved into Rosemont Greene. I was wondering if you had any part time jobs for me?"she remarked pointing to the sign.
Ellen's expression shifted, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before she regained control. "Rosemont Greene? That's Leslie's house..!"
Leonie's eyes widened in surprise. "Leslie? Leslie Burke ? What a coincidence! I didn't know that. The house agent, Mrs. Crosby, didn't mention it."
Ellen's eyes clouded over for a moment, a mix of sadness and nostalgia crossing her face. "Yes, sweet child. It's been almost a decade... well, since she…"
Leonie's heart skipped a beat, a wave of sadness washing over her. "I'm so sorry to hear that," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ellen's expression softened, a warm smile spreading across her face. "You're not to know, dear. But I'm glad you're renting the house. It's been empty for a while, and it's lovely to see it being lived in again."
After a moment, Ellen flashed a warm smile at her, "Actually, I do have a part-time job available here at the shop, if you're interested?"
Leonie's eyes lit up, her face breaking into a smile. "Oh, I'd love to! And I love books."
Ellen nodded, a pleased smile spreading across her face. "Wonderful! I need someone to help with stocking shelves, serving customers, and maybe even some basic bookkeeping. The hours are flexible, and I'm happy to train you."
Leonie nodded eagerly, her mind already racing with ideas and possibilities. "That sounds perfect, thank you! When would you like me to start?"
Ellen chuckled, a warm glade in her eyes. "How about tomorrow? We can go over the details then."
Leonie beamed, feeling a sense of excitement and purpose. She was going to love working at Page & Paige!
Working amidst shelves of novels and non-fiction, helping customers find titles, suited Leonie. The shop's owner, Ellen, was friendly.
Leonie's days fell into a pleasant pattern – afternoons in Page & Paige, evenings exploring Lake District paths and the rest of the day reading in the cottage.
****
One evening as she was walking by the creek, among a group of kids playing around the hornbeams leaning over the water – was Jesse with his unruly dark hair whipping in the breeze. His intense eyes were glaring at the creek.
Jesse looked up and caught her gaze. Leonie felt a jolt. Turning away quickly, she continued her walk.
Back at the house,Leonie couldn't shake the feeling. Was that the same creek mentioned in the newspaper where the 10 year old girl Leslie had the unfortunate accident?
Leonie's gaze drifted to the locked room as she stood in her cozy cottage. She felt a pang of curiosity, but didn't act on it. Instead, she turned away, heading to the kitchen to start dinner.
She pulled out a pot and began to prepare a simple broccoli and chicken stir-fry, the sizzle of vegetables and the aroma of soy sauce filling the air. As she cooked, her thoughts wandered back to the hostile encounter with Jesse. She shook her head, focusing on the food.
The stir-fry was ready, and she served it onto a plate, the steam rising from the fragrant rice as she sat down to eat.
****
The lake outside her window remained a constant backdrop – its changing moods mirroring her own. She looked at it darkening under a twilight sky. Silhouettes of Larches and beeches stood sentinel around it. Leonie ate in silence, her gaze darting in the direction of the locked room occasionally. Was it Leslie's room ?... Could it be...??
Her thoughts were pierced by Jesse’s voice from next door. “Get out of my room, May Belle! Your rabbit hasn't hopped in here!”
To Be Continued...
https://www.theblogchatter.com/blogrolls/chapter-7-bridging-memories-terabithia-reclaimed
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