by Emma Davies
He held her look for a moment. ‘But it was the book which interested me really, a rather unusual title for a sales assistant to be reading, I thought. Something on the design and installation of wind turbines and water pumps. It caught my attention because I used to be a builder, Daisy – had my own company building houses – and so it seemed only natural when I bumped into him a second time, while out walking one day, to ask him about it. The result was a visit to his house and a quite lengthy conversation, which started off about the marvel of the setting I found myself in, and then, as these things do, traversed a multitude of subjects. One of which was the Christmas present that you were making for Grace. I’m so sorry, Daisy. I had no idea at the time that the fact you made jewellery was a secret.’
Her mouth dropped open in shock. It really was that simple.
She looked up at Amos’s apologetic face, thinking about his words. There was a train of thought she was trying to catch, because if it really was that simple then why— A knock at the door interrupted her musings and her thoughts scattered. Flora was here. She shot a look at Amos as a sudden wave of nervous excitement gripped her.
Flora’s cheeks were flushed as Daisy ushered her in. ‘I’m so sorry I’m late. You wouldn’t believe it – I actually did get a call from a panicked bride.’ She stopped and looked around her. ‘Blimey, Daisy, this place is gorgeous. And how perfect, given what you do.’ She smiled at Amos. ‘So?’ Her eyebrows were raised.
He grinned at her. ‘I haven’t seen it yet,’ he replied. ‘We were waiting for you.’
There was a weight of expectation in the room as looks were exchanged and Daisy didn’t know what to say. Should she try and explain her thinking behind the piece before she showed it to them? Or suggest that all was not lost and she still had time to make alterations in case they didn’t like it? In the end she did none of those things, but beckoned them over to her work table, which had been cleared of clutter. A rectangular space had been left in the centre which she had covered with a cloth and, underneath it, Grace’s necklace waited to be revealed. She suddenly felt very hot.
Gently, Daisy lifted the covering, holding her breath, avoiding Amos’s eyes as she waited for a reaction. The seconds ticked by, the silence in the room growing incrementally, but still Amos had not said a word. Nor had he moved. A few more moments passed and, unable to stand it any longer, Daisy finally looked at him. His eyes were glued to the necklace and it was only the movement of his eyelids that revealed him to be drinking in the detail. A slow smile spread upwards and, at the point when she didn’t think it could grow any bigger, he turned to her, his eyes shining with emotion.
‘Daisy…’ He bit his lip, and then held a hand to his mouth, laughing at his lack of self-control as a tear rolled down his cheek. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I love Grace,’ he said. ‘But that… that tells me you knew all along.’
He held out his arms and as Daisy moved towards him he pulled her into a huge bear-like hug which enveloped her. ‘Thank you,’ he said simply. With a final squeeze he released her, holding out a trembling hand. ‘May I hold it?’ he asked.
Daisy sniffed. Her own cheeks were wet, and she dashed her palm against them. How ridiculous. But yet it wasn’t, standing here with these wonderful people, it wasn’t ridiculous at all. She nodded and, reaching out, placed the necklace gently in Amos’s outstretched hand.
A series of three fine silver wires, each hung successively lower than the last, were joined at uneven intervals by tiny silver beads that themselves glistened like dewdrops on a spider’s web. But in the spaces between the beads Daisy had wired all the things which made Grace who she was: a tiny silver bee for her industry and wisdom, a rosebud for her beauty and the love she shared with Amos, an ivy leaf for friendship, a dove for the peace she brought to everyone around her and, finally, a shining crescent moon, not only the symbol for the silver from which the necklace was wrought, but for Grace herself. Each of the items was delicate, neither overpowering its neighbour. Strung from the finest silver wire, they seemed to float in the space that surrounded them.
‘Oh, Amos…’ It was the first time Flora had spoken and she laid a hand over his as he gazed at the necklace it still held. ‘It’s perfect. Just perfect. I don’t know how you did it, Daisy, but Grace is going to absolutely adore this.’ She looked up at Amos and grinned. ‘Good job Ned’s already given me the best present I could ever wish for, or he could be in a lot of trouble right now.’
Daisy looked at the expression on her face, shining with happiness for Amos. ‘Why, what did Ned get you?’ she asked, wondering why Daisy had received her gift early.
‘Well, admittedly it was a fair few months ago now, but Ned gave me my life back. And then he gave me my flowers. I’d say he’s got the whole present thing covered for a few more years yet.’
Daisy nodded and smiled at her new friend. Because that was just the kind of thing Flora would say. And that was perfect too.
‘Would you like to see it on?’ Daisy asked Amos. ‘Flora can be our model, can’t you?’ Daisy had wondered what it would feel like nestled against her own skin. And she had almost tried it on in the moments after it was finished, but then she’d stopped herself. It wasn’t hers and it wouldn’t have been right to wear it.
Amos nodded enthusiastically but he didn’t need to, Flora was already pulling her jumper off over her head. Underneath she wore a plain scooped-neck tee shirt; it would show off the necklace beautifully. She gathered her thick hair into a bunch and held it away from her neck, so that Amos could fasten the necklace, albeit with shaking hands.
Flora stood back and lowered her hair, pushing it back over her shoulders. She stood up tall, stretching her neck. ‘It feels wonderful,’ she said. ‘Like someone is just lightly touching my skin with their fingertips.’ Daisy could see she was itching to explore it with her own fingers, but she held back, not wanting to spoil the effect for Amos.
‘Jewellery should speak only words of love… That’s what you said, Daisy, wasn’t it? But this, this is even better, because these words aren’t spoken, they are whispered gently like a lover’s sigh…’
Flora snorted. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Amos, will you stop?’ She dabbed at her eyes. ‘Or my mascara will be halfway down my face.’ But she grinned at him, and then at Daisy and, in the look that passed between them, was the acknowledgement that he was right.
It was the anticlimax, Daisy knew that, but by three o’clock she was pounding the towpath again, trying to rid herself of the restless feeling that had plagued her ever since Flora and Amos had left. Their reaction had been everything she could have wished for but now that the elation had died down, together with the sheer relief that it was all okay, her thoughts turned increasingly to the coming days.
She hadn’t heard from Nick yet, nor had she expected to. Her parcel had only been sent on Thursday, and not to his home address, but to the house of his girlfriend’s parents near Chester where he would be staying once he was back from his last trip before Christmas. She didn’t suppose he would even see it until Christmas Eve. So now she was reduced to playing a waiting game. Not only for his response, but also for the day after tomorrow when Buchanan’s fate was decided, and hers along with it. It induced a horrible feeling of helplessness.
The canal was quiet, but the light was already beginning to go and Daisy wasn’t surprised. This close to Christmas people were either busy or enjoying a quiet afternoon by the fire in readiness for the mad rush to come. There was now so little time left in which to say something to Kit. But it was unlikely she would get the chance even if she could find the words.
She was on her way back home when she saw Robin clambering from his boat. He was muffled against the cold just as she was, clutching a brightly wrapped package to his chest.
‘Land ahoy,’ he called. ‘I was just coming to see you.’
She grinned. ‘Were you? Although I’m not sure you can say “Land ahoy” when you’re on solid ground too.
’
‘Good point. In that case, Happy Christmas, Daisy.’ He thrust out the present towards her. ‘I know it’s earlier than we usually exchange gifts, but I sent my manuscript off to my editor this morning, so I’m a free man and heading to my parents first thing in the morning instead of Christmas Eve.’
‘Ah… well then you’d better come back to the cottage with me a minute so I can get your present. I’d hate you to miss out.’
He grinned and fell into step beside her. ‘I’ll confess I hadn’t a clue what to get you this year, but I have it on good authority that you’ll like those.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes, I bumped into your friend – boyfriend? – the other evening when I was out. Taking the air, as I like to call it, but what is actually one last cigarette before bed, and we got talking. Fascinating chap, I approve.’
Daisy stared at him. There were several things wrong with that statement. ‘Hang on a minute… When was this, Robin? And I don’t have a boyfriend. What did he look like?’
Robin scratched the end of his nose. ‘Erm, tall, dark and handsome? No, let me think… Tall, yes, dark… hard to see at night, but dark-ish… and handsome? Not my cup of tea, obviously, but maybe… friendly looking anyway, with a very open face… and kind of…’ He motioned to his forehead. ‘A floppy hair thing going on.’
It can only have been Kit. ‘When was this?’ she asked again.
‘Wednesday, I think… yes, definitely Wednesday, but it was late. Your light was still on though.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I did do the concerned citizen thing because he was stopped by your path, but he seemed to know where he was going. And once I got talking to him it was obvious that he knew you, so I thought it must be okay.’
Daisy gave him a reassuring smile. ‘Yes, it’s fine. I know who it was. Sorry, I forgot he’d been round for a minute. He comes out walking this way quite a bit and he popped in when he saw my light was on. Bit embarrassing actually, he was busting for a wee.’ The lie came easily; she had no wish to make Robin anxious.
Robin laughed. ‘God, and I kept him talking for ages. Like I said though, interesting chap. He didn’t have a torch with him and, when I commented on it, he said he always walked by moonlight. We got talking about the stars.’
It was definitely Kit.
They had reached her cottage and Daisy pushed open the door. ‘Hang on and I’ll go and get your pressie,’ she said.
She returned moments later and held out the package. ‘They’re, well, I bet you can guess.’
‘Aye, notebooks,’ Robin said, a broad smile on his face. ‘Same as always, but what would I do without you, Daisy?’ It had become a bit of a standing joke between them as Daisy had bought him notebooks ever since she found out he was a writer.
He leaned forward to give her cheek a kiss. ‘Well, Happy Christmas. I hope you have a good one.’
‘You too, Robin.’ She was still clutching her gift from him and she gave it a gentle shake. ‘Intriguing…’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
She watched as he made his way back down the path, giving a farewell wave before shutting the door. She stared at the present, the present that clearly Kit had offered advice over. She couldn’t… could she? No, she shook her head. It wasn’t Christmas yet and she never opened presents early. She took it through into the sitting room and placed it under the tree.
The walk hadn’t exactly chased Kit from her mind but the urgency to think about him at least had lessened as other thoughts crept in too. Now though, he was right back, centre stage. There was something… Ever since Amos had revealed that it was he who had inadvertently told Kit about her jewellery, something had been gnawing at her. That should have made everything simple, but somehow it hadn’t and she couldn’t work out why. But as she straightened, it came to her.
She had accepted what Amos had said to her, why wouldn’t she? He had no reason to lie. It was a simple mistake; unfortunate, but not the end of the world. It explained perfectly how Kit had found out about her jewellery, and yet Kit had chosen not to tell her how it had come about. It was the one thing that she could have understood, the one thing that could have made things right between them. But instead he had refused to tell her how he knew. And that she just couldn’t understand.
But that wasn’t the only thing, because now she knew that on the night she had finished making the first of her Christmas gifts, Kit had been walking the towpath outside her cottage. He had been standing on her path talking to Robin, and yet she had never known he was there. So why was he? But she already knew the answer. Kit had been there because he had been checking on her, making sure she was safe. She stared at Robin’s present for a moment before ripping off the bright wrapping. The sob burst from her lips even before she glimpsed the pastel colours inside, before she even smelled the distinctive aroma. She knew exactly what it was. A box of macarons. How could she ever have thought Kit had cheated?
24
Tuesday 24th December
One shopping day until Christmas
The man beamed at Daisy. ‘I can’t thank you enough. You’ve been an absolute lifesaver.’
She smiled back. ‘You’re very welcome,’ she replied. ‘And I’m sure your wife will love her present. Happy Christmas.’ She held the shop door open, giving a little wave as the man disappeared from sight.
‘Now that was cutting it fine,’ said Bertie. ‘And skilfully done, Daisy,’ he added.
‘Although to be fair, given the lateness of the hour, he probably would have bought anything.’ Lawrence’s smile was tight.
She frowned. ‘Which was exactly why I didn’t just sell him anything,’ she replied. ‘Because he would have left the shop with a nasty taste in his mouth, knowing he’d just been fleeced and would never come back.’
Kit moved to stand beside her and turned the sign on the door to closed. ‘She has a point, Lawrence,’ he said breezily.
Lawrence scowled.
‘Children, children…’ said Bea, tutting in mock consternation. ‘Today of all days, let’s find a little Christmas spirit.’
The atmosphere in the shop suddenly became serious. It was two o’clock and all morning they had been busy, although mostly with folks popping in to wish them the compliments of the season rather than last-minute customers. It was tradition at Buchanans to serve mulled wine and refreshments during the morning until the shop closed early afternoon. Afterwards Bea would say a few words, thank everyone for another, hopefully, successful year, and present her Christmas gift to Daisy. There would be more wine, which Daisy never drank, and party food, which Daisy rarely ate, but it never mattered. Unlike the majority of shops, Buchanans didn’t open on Boxing Day, or the two days following that, so there were always four days off to be savoured and to Daisy it had always felt like the end of term before the long summer holidays, full of delicious anticipation for the days ahead.
Today, however, was obviously rather different from the norm and that in itself made Daisy feel edgy and out of sorts. Christmas Eve at Buchanans had been part of her festive-season traditions for a very long time and she hated having this taken away from her. It was as if someone had died. Kit and Bertie had done their best to keep things light-hearted, even though Kit must have been feeling dreadful too, but Lawrence had spent most of the morning seemingly inspecting things. Whether he found them to be lacking in something, Daisy didn’t care. She just wished he wasn’t there. She hadn’t heard from Nick either, and that only made things worse. Lost in thought, it took a moment for her to realise that Bea was speaking again.
‘Goodness,’ she said. ‘You all look like you’re waiting to hear if the patient is dead or alive.’
‘Look, can we just get this over with,’ replied Lawrence. ‘It’s pointless trying to pretend that there’s anything nice about all this. So why don’t we all cut the fake bonhomie and seasonal good cheer and get down to business. We all know it’s the end of an era, Mother, so let’s find out who lives or dies.’
Daisy swallowed.
There was an element of truth in what Lawrence had said, but why did he always have to be so confrontational? She had expected Bea to become somewhat flustered by his remark, but she was surprised at the force with which Bea’s reply came out.
‘You really haven’t learned a thing, have you?’ she said, pinning him with a ferocious stare. ‘This is not about endings at all, Lawrence, but about beginnings.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘And I am disappointed, but sadly not surprised, that you haven’t figured that out yet.’
What on earth did Bea mean? Daisy shot a look at Lawrence, who looked like he was chewing a live wire, and then glanced at Kit, who was actually smiling and, worse, staring straight at her. She looked away, dropping her eyes to the floor, her cheeks aflame. Oh, this was horrible.
‘Perhaps we had better, erm, make a start,’ suggested Bertie. ‘It is a little nerve-wracking, and poor Daisy looks like she might pass out.’
‘I agree,’ replied Bea, smiling at Daisy with twinkling eyes. ‘But we will do this with dignity and grace, or not at all. So, let’s do as we always have and drink a toast to the year and have a little celebration of our efforts and achievements.’
She led the way through into the back room, where she had been disappearing all morning to lay out plates of food. Daisy didn’t think she could eat a thing.
‘Daisy,’ said Kit quietly. ‘Can I get you something? There’s some non-alcoholic mulled wine.’
She cleared her throat, her mouth suddenly dry. ‘I might just have some water, if that’s okay.’ But she was touched that he had acknowledged she didn’t drink alcohol.
‘And something to eat?’ Bertie was hovering with a plate. ‘I know you like these.’
She glanced at his offering, eyes widening when she saw what he had put together for her. The plate was filled with the tiny pastries she had eaten at the Altitude Bar, some of the pretzels, and spiced cashews too. Someone, and she suspected she knew who, had also added some macarons to the plate. She gave a weak smile and took it, trying to remind herself that she liked these things.
