‘Good thing they caught that boyfriend of yours,’ said Alan, plonking himself down in the well-worn armchair.
‘Alan,’ admonished Min, her face contorting with the effort of trying to convey her message.
‘He wasn’t my boyfriend,’ said Daisy, staring at the perfectly uniform flames of the gas fire. ‘But yeah. Good thing they got him.’
‘Beautiful girl like you can have her pick of men,’ said Alan. ‘The right one will come along when you least expect it. You’ll see.’
‘Oh, do shut up, Alan,’ said Min, shooing him up from his chair and out of the room. ‘Go and do something useful,’ she said, kissing him as he went past. ‘He’s neither use nor ornament,’ she said to Daisy with an apologetic smile.
‘Do you think there is a right one for all of us?’ asked Daisy.
Min sat on the arm of the sofa next to Daisy and took her hand in hers. ‘No, I don’t actually. But there is a right one for you.’
Daisy twisted in her seat to look up at Min. ‘What makes you so sure?’
Min gave a weak smile. ‘I get messages.’
‘From Mum?’ Her heart clenched at the thought of her mother.
‘Sometimes,’ said Min. ‘I say messages but it’s more vague than that. I have these thoughts that aren’t my own.’
‘And what did Mum say or think about me?’ Daisy was looking up at Min, her eyes eager like a child.
‘An overwhelming sense of love,’ said Min, giving her hand a squeeze. They heard Tamsyn returning. ‘I should stop now,’ said Min, getting up.
‘No, please don’t.’ Daisy reached out and gripped her hand.
Min eyed her fondly. ‘She likes what you’ve done with Locos but fighting with your father upsets her.’
Daisy felt a chill go through her and she let go of Min’s hand as if she’d received an electric shock. Tonight was the first time she’d spoken to her dad in months. How could Min have possibly known? The door clunked shut as Tamsyn came inside.
‘That dog thinks he has staff. I dried his feet but he kept lifting up his paws. It’s still raining out there. How are you feeling?’ she asked, finally appearing in the living room.
Weird was how she felt, if she was being honest, but all she said was, ‘Better, thanks.’
Daisy wasn’t sure where she was for a moment when she was wrestled from her dreams. She looked about the Turveys’ spare bedroom and it all came flooding back to her – it was morning and she’d stayed the night at Tamsyn’s as the thought of facing Aunt Coral had been too much.
‘Daisy, you need to come downstairs.’ Tamsyn was standing by the door, her voice was low and urgent. By the time Daisy had fully come round Tamsyn had gone. Daisy padded downstairs yawning as she went.
Aunt Coral was at the foot of the stairs with Tamsyn. She looked tired but appeared dressed for a trip to the theatre, wearing smart trousers and a blazer-style jacket with matching scarf. ‘I just wanted to say goodbye,’ she said.
Daisy blinked fast and tried to summon her thoughts. ‘What do you mean?’ It was all too confusing for this time in the morning.
‘I’m truly sorry about everything, Daisy, and the last thing I want is for you to leave this close to having completed your year in the bay. It wouldn’t be right for you to miss out on your inheritance. I thought if I went away for a few weeks then you wouldn’t leave?’ The last bit came out like a question.
Daisy shrugged. She realised for the first time in forever, running away hadn’t actually been her first thought and it interested her but she was too tired to analyse it. ‘You don’t have to.’ Daisy tried to stifle a yawn and failed. Whatever she felt about that fateful night and her aunt’s involvement she didn’t want her to feel she had to leave – this was her home.
‘I’ve been thinking about having a bit of a holiday for quite a while now, this gives me the excuse I needed. My boss isn’t impressed but he’s agreed the time off and I got a great last-minute deal,’ she said, turning to Tamsyn who nodded happily.
‘Holiday?’ asked Daisy, feeling quite slow on the uptake. ‘Are you taking Bug?’
‘No, dear. He can’t come on a twenty-two-day cruise,’ said Aunt Coral, with a chuckle. Daisy’s eyes widened. ‘Bug will be fine here with you.’
‘I’ve always wanted to go on a cruise. The exotic destinations, the glamorous dresses …’ Tamsyn seemed to get stuck with her list. ‘The big boats.’
‘We fly to Barbados and then we’re going all around the Caribbean. I’ll send you lots of postcards.’ Coral stepped forward. ‘I’ll really miss you, Daisy.’ She pulled Daisy into a hug and held her for a moment. Aunt Coral sniffed back a tear as she let her go. ‘I hope you can forgive me,’ she said, and she hurried out to a waiting taxi.
Tamsyn was wittering on about how amazing the Caribbean would be as they both waved off a teary Aunt Coral and Daisy’s sleep-fogged brain belatedly asked whether it was just a turn of phrase when she said ‘we’? And if it wasn’t who was she going on a twenty-two-day Caribbean cruise with?
Chapter Eight
Daisy was looking forward to her night off; it had been a busy weekend so a Monday in the pub with Tamsyn was exactly what she needed. Actually, she would have preferred a bottle of wine at home but Tamsyn had been insistent. With only four weeks to go Daisy was getting demob-happy. The accounts were looking healthy and the solicitor had confirmed everything was on track to release the final instalment of her inheritance as planned. She was then going to put Locos up for sale, repay Aunt Coral and jet off to South America. Everything was coming together. She still had some niggles in the back of her mind, but that’s all they were. She wanted to do more travelling – it had always been her dream and nothing had changed, nothing at all. So why did she feel uneasy about moving on?
‘Slippers,’ said Tamsyn, as they walked in the warm evening air.
‘Yes,’ said Daisy, bracing herself for Tamsyn’s next question.
‘I mean, how dangerous do they sound?’ Daisy was frowning. ‘Imagine the inventor saying, “I’ve invented slippers, they go on your feet. Do you want to try them?” You’d think you were going to slide to your doom, wouldn’t you?’
Daisy started to laugh and Tamsyn continued. ‘And who was the cruel person that put an “s” in lisp?’
They were giggling as they entered the pub but Daisy’s laughter quickly faded when she saw who was sitting at their usual table.
‘Oh, no, Tams. I’m not spending an evening of awkwardness with Max,’ said Daisy, bolting for the door, but Tamsyn artfully blocked her.
‘Wait, please listen. It’s not about you and him it’s about me and Captain Cuddles.’ Daisy raised her eyebrows. ‘Because you two aren’t talking we have to see you separately and we feel we can’t mention the other one and it’s making us sad.’ Tamsyn’s face was brimming over with unhappiness making Daisy relent slightly.
‘All the trust has gone, Tams.’ Daisy looked across at Max; she wished that wasn’t the case but how could she even be friends with someone she no longer trusted and who had made her feel such a fool?
‘Please just have a drink with me and Jason. You can pretend Max isn’t there.’ Tamsyn’s face was pleading.
‘Look at his melancholy face,’ said Daisy, glancing at Max who, from his expression, she surmised had just learnt of the devious plan himself.
‘That’s an odd phrase – melon-cauli. Is it because vegetables look sad?’
Max now looked like the lesser of two awkward conversations. Against her better judgement, Daisy took a deep breath and headed over to the table, with Tamsyn squeaking her delight behind her. Max stood up like he was about to walk out and Daisy felt hopeful because that way she would have done as her friend asked and they’d avoid the uncomfortable silence or unholy row that was likely to engulf the evening – she couldn’t be sure which way it would go.
Max rubbed his stubbly chin during a hushed conversation with Jason who was sporting a similarly pleading face to the one Tamsyn h
ad displayed. Jason stood up and gave Daisy a brief kiss on the cheek.
‘You okay, Captain Cuddles?’ she asked Jason, with a grin, sitting down in the chair next to Max’s and angling her body away from him.
‘Yeah, good thanks, I was just saying to Max—’
‘I can’t sit through her ignoring me all night in a pathetic attempt to make a point. I’m going to save you the trouble and leave,’ said Max, picking up his almost full pint and starting to drink it at speed.
‘Excuse me. I think I made my point when you finally revealed yourself to be a lying scumbag,’ said Daisy, getting to her feet and squaring up to Max.
‘Oh, this was a bad idea,’ said Jason, quickly standing up and putting a shoulder between the two of them.
Max stepped around Jason. ‘When did I lie?’ he asked, looking irritated.
Daisy’s jaw tensed. ‘In my book, not revealing key information is the same thing. You knew the necklace was Pasco’s.’
‘It only dawned on me when I saw an old photo of him.’
‘But you knew what it meant to me and yet you let me continue to believe it was my mother’s.’
The fight seemed to go out of Max and he lowered his voice. ‘I never meant to deceive you. Surely you can understand I was torn. Pasco’s my dad.’
‘You could have talked to me about it. That was all you had to do.’ Daisy was more sad than cross as she studied his face. ‘I thought we had something you and me.’ Daisy held her breath; she hadn’t intended to reveal quite so much but it was said now. Tamsyn was watching them closely and Daisy saw her reach out and grip Jason’s hand, not in a loving way, more akin to how she imagined couples held hands as the Titanic sank.
‘Not enough to make you want to stay in the bay.’ Max’s voice was heavy.
‘I never had a good reason to stay.’ Daisy felt her pulse start to quicken.
‘People are a good reason.’
Was he saying he should be her reason? ‘People let you down.’
‘Like your French boyfriend?’ Max was back to being snappy.
Daisy’s lips formed a thin line. ‘You’d buggered off!’ she said, her voice rising again.
‘You sacked me from the bar.’
‘I thought you resigned?’
‘You gave me no choice. You accused me of stealing!’
‘You let me down and worse still you hurt me.’ As the emotions took over she knew she couldn’t say any more, the mixture of anger and wounded pride was a fatal combination and had ruined many a great woman’s speech. She stepped away but Max grabbed her arm, the contact made the tiny hairs on her arms stand to attention.
‘I never meant to hurt you, Daisy.’ His eyes conveyed his regret.
‘But you did,’ she said, pulling away.
Max watched her leave the pub. Jason and Tamsyn were staring too as if watching the climax of a soap opera.
‘That went well,’ said Max, finishing the rest of his pint swiftly. ‘I think I’ll make a move too.’
‘How do we sort this out?’ asked Tamsyn, after Max had gone.
‘Maybe it’s not ours to sort out,’ said Jason looking thoughtful. ‘Sometimes there’s too much getting in the way.’
Tamsyn pouted and shook her head. ‘I’m not giving up on those two yet.’
A few days later, after a long walk, Bug flopped down on the mat by the back door. ‘Basket,’ said Daisy, pointing at his bed. He let out a groan and stayed where he was. She knew by now Bug was far from stupid but he was lazy. A thought shot through her mind. Perhaps she could teach him something while Aunt Coral was away? She never shied away from a challenge.
Two hours and the best part of a bag of dog biscuits later Bug was still looking at her as if she was demented. It didn’t matter how many times she put him in the basket, repeated the command or rewarded him there was nothing that would make him do it on command. She poured herself a large glass of wine and put it down to experience; another point clocked up on Bug’s side of the scoreboard.
‘Cock-a-doodle-doo,’ she muttered. He was definitely sleeping in the kitchen tonight.
That night Daisy fell asleep quite quickly, but she was soon woken by the sound of Bug’s whimpering interspersed with the rumble of distant thunder. The weather had been hot and stormy all week. Daisy huffed, hauling herself out of bed, and shuffled to the kitchen where Bug was hiding under the table. She sat on the floor with him for a bit until he had settled and when she could no longer hear the rumbling she returned to her bed.
It felt like only a few moments before the scenario was repeated. This time it wasn’t cute or funny and she had zero patience left. She trudged to the kitchen and flung open the door; all she needed was a well-timed flash of lightning to make it look like a scene from a horror movie. Bug was sitting in the middle of the floor looking at her expectantly. She was tired and she was grumpy and she definitely couldn’t hear thunder this time. ‘Bug, ignore the storm. It’s just being a bastard,’ she said firmly.
Bug paused for a moment and then trotted off and got obediently into his basket and wagged his tail like he was mightily proud of himself.
‘Bastard. Not basket you … oh never mind. Well done, Bug,’ she said, going over and giving him a scratch on the head before returning to bed for what she hoped was the final time.
A week later the West Country was experiencing some unusually harsh weather. The wind had been building all day and now the rain was coming down in bucket loads, making it seem even more vicious as it lashed at the cottage windows, and the accompanying wind howled down the passageway. There was something different about storms on the coast. They had an increased ferocity thanks to tidal surges. It wasn’t something that frightened Daisy – she had seen enough of them growing up, even on occasion marvelling at the ferociousness of it when standing on the headland with her father and watching the sea churning below. It was mesmerising: beautiful and slightly terrifying at the same time.
It was Monday night; Locos was closed and she was making her way through a bottle of wine on her own. Tamsyn was meeting Jason and Max at the pub and she was fed up with arguing with Max. A bottle of wine wasn’t the best solution, she knew that, but sometimes it did make you feel better and at least she would sleep tonight. She poured herself another large glass, flicked on the television and curled up with Bug, who reversed his plump backside into her ribs until he was perfectly comfortable and settled down for a nap.
She must have drifted off because the sound of knocking on the front door jolted her awake. For a moment she thought she was in bed with a hot water bottle, then realised she was slumped on the sofa at an odd angle with Bug tucked up against her. She unfolded herself as the knocking turned to banging.
‘All right. All right. I’m coming.’ When she heard the slur in her voice she remembered the wine and eyed the empty bottle whilst struggling to unfold her foot from underneath her. Her right leg was asleep and tingled into life as pins and needles made her wince. She hobbled to the front door, hoping all the effort would be worth it. She must have looked like a dead ringer for the Hunchback of Notre Dame, limping into view dragging her dead leg and trying to straighten her neck with a series of shoulder gyrations. She looked at the figure at the door; they were engulfed in swirling rain, which explained their incessant knocking. The figure turned when she opened the door.
‘Max?’ He was wearing a huge raincoat and stepped inside without waiting to be asked. ‘Er, you’re wet.’
‘No shit, Sherlock?’ said Max, shaking his head and spraying her with water not unlike Bug did after a bath. She rubbed at her lips remembering to check her mouth for any signs of stray dribble.
‘Still stormy then?’ She gazed behind him at the torrential rain outside.
‘We need to talk.’ Max looked resolute, his hair darker than usual and his face shiny from the rain.
‘Now?’ Daisy felt the recalcitrant teenager in her huff. She wasn’t mentally equipped for this right now.
‘Yes, now. T
amsyn says – Have you been drinking?’
Daisy closed her eyes. She didn’t want to lie but she also wasn’t keen to admit she’d been drinking alone either. ‘Just a glass … or two. Why? Is it against the law? Because you’d know all about breaking the law, wouldn’t you?’ She wobbled slightly, maybe it had been a tad more than two glasses.
‘Daisy, we have to stop this. We’re just going over old ground and it’s getting everyone down. The way I see it we have two options. We either put the past behind us and give it a go, you and me. Or we keep in this continuous loop. Which will it be?’
It sounded simple when he put it like that. Not exactly the words of a die-hard romantic. But even through her wine-fogged thoughts, Daisy knew he was right. It didn’t help at all him being right. If they were to ever get together then she had to let go of the past. Stop raking over all the old arguments and move on and she wasn’t entirely sure she could because that meant trusting someone again. If she did then she had to be able to have total confidence in Max and trusting him meant laying herself open to being hurt yet again.
‘You think we can move on just like that?’ asked Daisy, trying to click her fingers and puzzling over why she couldn’t.
‘I don’t see why not. I mean, I’ve forgotten about you accusing me of stealing and getting me to hire a boat for a drug dealer.’ He gave a cheeky smile. ‘Come on Daisy, take the plunge.’
Daisy felt pressured and more than a little panicked by being put on the spot. She wondered if she could ask him if he would wait for an answer. It would give her time to sober up and more importantly to think things through, weigh up the pros and cons and get her head around what she was doing. Before she got to voice her thoughts there was a faint buzzing and Max seemed to make the decision for her. He sprinted out the door. Not too keen on waiting for a response then, she thought.
‘Lifeboat!’ hollered Max, belatedly as the front door was whipped shut by the force of the wind outside and it slammed behind him.
‘Cock-a-doodle-doo,’ said Daisy and Bug barked his agreement. At least this gave her time to think. Perhaps some more wine would help her too.
Ottercombe Bay – Part Four Page 6
