Three Words: A Novella Collection

by Dale, Lindy

  Taking a seat on the hammock, Daisy swung back and forth humming to the music. This was fun but it wasn’t her scene and these people didn’t know her, so apart from Joseph the driver and the twins, who turned out to be Henry’s personal physiotherapist and masseuse, nobody paid her any heed. She thought it quite strange. At home, everyone went out of their way to make new people welcome. Here, she was merely one of a crowd.

  “There you are.”

  Daisy looked up to find Henry standing beside the hammock, a broad smile on his face and two plates of food and some champagne in his hands.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere.” Henry indicated the empty space on the hammock beside her. “May I?”

  Swinging her legs over the side of the hammock so that her feet rest on the ground, Daisy sat up. “Sure.”

  Henry sat down, handing Daisy a plate of food, already cut into bite-sized pieces and a glass of champagne. “What’re you up to, out here on your own?”

  “I was watching the stars. I like stars.”

  “Yeah, me too. Being in the city all the time, you don’t get to see too many stars but this is awesome. So serene. I’d kill to have this view to look at every night.”

  “It’s like this most nights at my place. You never get used to it. The sky’s always changing. It’s like a living portrait.”

  Henry picked a few bits of burger off his plate. He tossed them into his mouth and swallowed without chewing. “It’s funny that we met now, isn’t it?”

  “How do you mean?” Daisy didn’t think there was anything funny about it at all. She was still in the unbelievable phase.

  “Well, here we are both loving the stars and the countryside, both having marriages that failed for various reasons, both loving sheep….”

  Daisy grinned. “I don’t think you really love sheep. I think you made that bit up.”

  “Okay, you got me there. But that’s only because I haven’t had a lot to do with them. But I’d love to learn.”

  “Seriously?”

  Hawk Moon herding a flock of sheep or drenching and crutching them was something Daisy found quite hard to imagine. Even country people didn’t like the thought of that.

  “Yep. And after meeting Marsha last night, the idea came back to me again. I’ve always wanted to live on a farm. In fact, I bought a homestead and three hundred acres up north with the money I earnt from my second album.”

  “What do you plan on doing with it? That’s an awful lot of land.”

  “I want to go there when I retire. Learn to live self sufficiently ~ in style, of course ~ raise animals and look at the stars every night.”

  “You do realise you’d have to kill the animals?” Daisy smirked, remembering the lamb the previous evening.

  “Very funny.”

  “And you’d give up performing? For good?”

  “I guess so. Music’s a fickle industry. The fans might hate me next week. I have to live for the moment.”

  “But you also want to plan for when the moment isn’t there anymore?” Daisy guessed.

  Henry nodded. “I never thought about it like that, but you’re right. You’re quite a deep thinker for a country girl, Daisy Darling.”

  “Flatterer.”

  Daisy concentrated on her plate for a second, pretending to choose which bite to eat next. The more she learned about Henry, the more she liked him. Not because he was famous, rich and extraordinarily good-looking but because of the qualities he exuded. He was a real man. It was just such a pity that their worlds could never blend successfully. Anyone with half a brain could see that the country girl and the rock star weren’t good ingredients for relationship pie.

  As they ate Henry began to swing them back and forth gently by pushing his foot against the ground.

  “Do you think that’s a wise move with food?” Daisy asked, worried that at any moment she would be wearing the remains of her dinner on her chest.

  “I’m a seasoned hammock connoisseur. I can balance anything and swing at the same time,” Henry boasted.

  “It’s not you I’m worried about,” Daisy said, putting her glass on the ground out of the way. “I have a feeling I might be a hammock novice.”

  Henry gave a huge grin. It lit up his eyes and sent a shot of desire straight into a part of Daisy’s anatomy she’d practically forgotten existed. Waves of heat began to spread though her. Bugger the food and the swinging, she wanted to lay with him in this hammock and kiss every bit of his face until her lips fell off. If only she didn’t have this stupid plate in her hand. Or she had the nerve.

  “The trick is to keep your feet on the ground while you eat,” Henry said, giving her a demonstration of how to pick up small pieces of food, sip and swing slowly.

  “And you trust me with this? I distinctly remember what happened the last time we were this close. My head still has the bruise.”

  “I can kiss it better, if you like.”

  Daisy’s eyes dropped to her plate. Her face turned the colour of the tomato salsa on top of her mini burger. How the hell was she meant to respond to that? Yes, please?

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  “It’s okay,” she whispered.

  “I meant it, though. I would kiss it better. In fact, all I could think about while I was on stage tonight was kissing you. I think it gave something extra to my performance.”

  “In a good way?”

  “Of course. Weren’t you listening in the car?” he tutted.

  “Yes, but….”

  “So you wouldn’t mind if I kissed you?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Heavens. Where had that come from? In her entire life, Daisy had never been so bold as to ask a man to kiss her. All this new experience stuff was going to her head.

  Taking the plate from her and putting both of them aside on the ground, Henry shuffled so that he was facing Daisy. With the hammock gently swinging, he leaned one hand forward to balance himself. His mouth was so close to Daisy’s she could feel the warm breath coming from his nostrils. His smile had grown more serious and his eyes were…. Well, Daisy had no idea. She was utterly lost in the moment.

  Slowly, Henry reached over to stroke the side of her face and along her jaw. The hammock rocked back and forth. Tiny charges of electricity danced from his fingers onto her skin. Her head went all woozy. God. Oh God. She hoped she wasn’t going to…..

  Oh shiiiit.

  *****

  When Daisy woke up what she thought was a few minutes later, she discovered she was lying on a very large bed. A quilt had been placed over her body and her shoes had been removed. Trying not to move for fear of setting her head into another spin, she took in the room around her. Where was she? This certainly wasn’t her antique high back bed with the rose coloured quilt and those prints on the wall were most definitely not the family photos she’d had taken at the reunion last spring. They were bordering on pornographic.

  Through the crack in the partly closed door, she could hear two voices whispering. It didn’t sound like a friendly conversation.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Georgia’s voice had lowered to a tone Daisy assumed was her cross one. She sounded as if she were scolding a child. “She’s a bumpkin, Henry! There can never be any future in this. Send her home.”

  Daisy sat up on the bed. Her head swam in giddy circles and she tried keep as still as possible. If they were discussing her, she had a right to know what they were saying.

  “But I like her. She’s very sweet.”

  “Oh for Pete’s sake. So are lolly snakes but you don’t go round sucking on them all day.” Georgia sounded exasperated.

  “I didn’t even kiss her. She fainted before I got the chance.”

  “Sleep with her then, get her out of your system but keep it on the Q.T. Please. It’ll do no good for publicity if you drag her around town on your arm. And I’ve no intention of picking up the pieces in the media like I did last time you had a ‘little fling’. The fans like yo
u single, Henry. When and if you do decide to date again, in public, they’ll be expecting a little more than some country halfwit in a pair of cheap stretch jeans.”

  Henry’s reply was muffled but Daisy never heard it. She’d heard plenty enough to let her know she could never be a part of Henry’s world. Picking up her boots in one hand, she slid her jacket over her arm and crept out to the limmo where Joseph was waiting. She only hoped she got home before it turned into a pumpkin.

  Chapter 9

  “You got in a little late last night,” Mrs. Hanson commented as she and Daisy stood behind her stall at the Antiques and Collectables Fair the next morning. “You’re looking rather peaked, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  Daisy regarded the other woman and inwardly rolled her eyes. Actually, she did mind her saying. She was well aware what she looked like. She hadn’t had a wink of sleep because she’d been thinking about Henry for the entire night and the mirror this morning had proudly displayed what at pointless exercise that had been. The dreaded dark circles had resurfaced with a vengeance and her skin was all blotchy from doing the very thing she promised herself she would never do again. Cry over a man. What exactly had been the point of Henry getting her hopes up like that, of making her want him when they both knew perfectly well she could never be a part of his world? Georgia had been right. She was small town and he was the universe.

  “Yes. I did,” Daisy answered, snappishly.

  “Were you out?” Mrs. Hanson probed, knowing full well that Daisy hadn’t been ‘out’ for over three months and wanting the juicy details.

  “Well, yes. I was. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been coming home, now would I?” Daisy couldn’t help being short with her neighbour. She felt like shit. The fainting episode had been embarrassing enough ~ she’d forgotten the effects rocking things could have on her inner ears ~ but to be called a ‘country halfwit’ was even worse. And Henry hadn’t even defended her. He’d just stood on the other side of the door and let Georgia stomp on her when she wasn’t even there to speak up for herself. It was so unlike the Henry she thought she was getting to know and like.

  “And such a big black car,” Mrs Hanson continued.

  “Yes. It was,” Daisy stated, praying that would be the end of it.

  Curling her lip at Daisy’s lack of information, Mrs. Hanson turned to talk to a customer about the price of a hideous pink jug. The customer wanted to know her best price but knowing her neighbour, Daisy didn’t think she would have such a thing as a ‘best price’. She was tighter than a woollen jumper, shrunk in the wash.

  Daisy walked to the other side of the stall and surveyed the shed. Row upon row of stalls had been set up, stocking everything from high-end willow pattern to rusty garden tools and teddies with body parts that had seen better days. She could even see Mrs Evans across the way, trying to flog off her crocheted rag rugs as vintage for three hundred dollars each. Seriously, nobody had wanted them last year. What made her think things had changed?

  A heavy sigh of resignation escaped Daisy’s lips. Sometimes living in a small town really was the pits. She got roped into all manner of ridiculous things in the name of community spirit and being the kind hearted person she was, she never said no. Today, she’d promised to help Mrs. Hanson with her stall at the fair, which would have been fine if she’d had an interest in old things but from what Daisy could see most of this stuff was junk. Very expensive junk. And after the events of last night, she was beginning to wonder if she shouldn’t give up being nice altogether. It always seemed like she was the one getting hurt. Frankly, she’d had quite enough of being everyone’s doormat. Yes, she decided, she’d absolutely done the right thing by leaving when she did last night. It would only have ended in tears. Well, more tears.

  An elderly lady approached the stall and stopped to examine a china dog. She picked it up, turning it over and over in her bony wrinkled fingers. “How much is this, dear?” she asked, handing it to Daisy.

  Daisy looked at the dog. It had rather evil looking eyes for a china thing. It was enough to give you the creeps. Heavens knows why anyone would want to buy it. She turned it upside down to find the price tag. That was even scarier.

  “Uh, it’s two hundred and sixty dollars,” she told the old lady, feeling almost embarrassed at having to say it. She wouldn’t have taken the thing for free.

  “Can you do a better price? I’d really like to have it on my mantle. It would complete my set but I don’t quite have that much in my purse.”

  Daisy considered giving it to the lady but knew Mrs. Hanson would throw a fit. Quickly, she calculated the discount Mrs. Hanson had told her was acceptable. “I could probably do two twenty.”

  The old lady bit her lip. “Two hundred?”

  Just take the damn thing, Daisy thought. I don’t care.

  “Let me check.”

  She walked over to Mrs. Hanson, who had finished talking to the other customer and was now holding up a small cracked compact and reapplying her lipstick. “Is two hundred okay for the ugly dog?” she whispered.

  Mrs. Hanson almost missed her mouth with the lipstick. “It’s not an ugly dog, Daisy. It’s a limited edition Royal Dalton figurine designed by Frederick Daws in 1935.” She stopped and looked over her shoulder at the elderly lady. “And tell her we’ll take two ten and nothing less. That old biddy has more money than the whole of the South West put together.”

  Well, looks really could be deceiving. Or maybe that threadbare coat the old lady was wearing was some sort of disguise?

  Daisy walked back to her customer. “I can’t go any lower than two ten.”

  The lady grumbled and opened her handbag. She began to rummage around in it, bringing out a selection of very large notes, one of which Daisy had never seen in real life. Then she handed the correct money to Daisy. “Can you wrap it please?”

  Daisy gave her a smile. “Sure. Wouldn’t like to think it’d get broken on the way home, would we? Not after you’ve spent all that money.”

  Bending under the stall Daisy fished around for the roll of bubble wrap, scissors and tape. She glanced at her watch. Another hour before she could get out of this place and go home to some peace and quiet. What with the cold of being in a tin shed and standing on a concrete floor all morning, she was looking forward to a nice hot cup of tea and a chat on the phone with Avery. She’d already uploaded her photos of the concert to her computer and sent a few through to Avery’s email. She wouldn’t mention anything about the proceedings after. No need to dampen Avery’s little crush by telling her the truth about Henry being only after a ‘little fling’.

  Daisy put the roll down on the stall and picked up the dog, turning back to the old lady to ask her if she wanted to buy anything else but the woman had tottered further along the stall and standing in her place was….

  Henry.

  The two hundred dollar dog fell from Daisy’s hands and landed with a shattering crash on the concrete floor. From behind her and beside her she heard the horrified shrieks of Mrs. Hanson ~ who was thinking about her lost revenue ~ and the old lady who had begun to wobble on her walking stick like she was having a stroke. Daisy couldn’t move. Her feet were stuck to the floor in a puddle of china.

  “Henry.”

  God, he looked gorgeous.

  No, she chided herself. She mustn’t think that. He was a shallow, egocentric rock star who had no place in her life. Yes. That was more like it. Now, if only she was convinced.

  “Hi Daisy.”

  “What are you doing here? I … I thought…. Aren’t you meant to be on a plane?”

  Henry looked nervous. “Well, yes. But I was worried about you. What happened last night?”

  “I felt sick after I fainted, so I got Joseph to drive me home. You said I could go anytime I liked.”

  “I know. But I left you passed out on the bed. I went to call the doctor and when I got back, you were gone. I thought maybe you’d done something crazy, you know, wandered off. I couldn’t sleep. ”
>
  Daisy frowned at Henry, trying to read his face. Did he actually mean that? She was so confused she had no idea what to believe anymore. One minute he was being all sweet and lovely and saying he was on a date with her and the next he was talking about her like she was a plaything of no consequence. She supposed that the least she owed him was an explanation.

  “I’m sorry I left without telling you. I know it was rude but I felt so sick and I didn’t feel like searching for you with all those people in the house,” she lied. How could she tell him that she’d really left because she’d overheard the conversation between him and Georgia?

  “But you’re okay now?”

  “Fine. It’s just this kooky inner ear thing. It makes me lose me balance and I faint if it’s severe. The hammock set it off.”

  “Oh.”

  “Side show rides are the real killer though,” she smiled, sensing that maybe she’d been wrong, that she’d misheard what had gone on outside the door. Henry seemed far too concerned for a man who’d only wanted a fling. And he had driven all this way to check on her. He hadn’t needed to do that.

  “I can imagine,” Henry chuckled, mimicking her words from the previous evening.

  By this time, Mrs. Hanson and the old lady had stopped squawking and had joined forces at the other end of the stall, captivated by the handsome young man who was attempting to sweep Daisy Darling off her feet. Watching hypnotised, they sniggered to each other behind their hands, probably discussing what they thought Daisy should do next.

  Daisy shook her head. Trust her luck that the one time in her life she required a bit of privacy she was on a stall with the biggest gossip in town and her new best friend.

  “So was there anything else?” she asked Henry, ignoring the fact that a crowd was beginning to gather. It seemed that she wasn’t the only person in town who was a fan of Hawk Moon. Without the benefit of his navy baseball cap, Henry had been recognised.

  “There was one more thing I wanted to clear up before I get on the plane.”

  “And what would that be?”

  Seriously, this was the weirdest weekend of Daisy’s entire life. Henry was looking at her in a most odd way.