When she had signed on the last dotted line and the barn looked like a warehouse, she walked to the kitchen, her cheeks flushed with the excitement and anticipation, in order to find Tom and Lisa.
‘Gosh, I hope you two like my choices!’ She poured herself a glass of orange juice, barely noticing the silence. When she had drained the glass, she eventually looked at her friends. ‘Guys?’
They were staring at her, smiling broadly.
‘You look positively radiant, darling,’ Tom gushed. ‘Goodness.’
‘She does, she really does,’ Lisa agreed and took Daisy in a big bear hug before standing back once more.
Daisy smile immediately faded. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t be so… you know, I mean maybe it’s not respectful…’
Tom placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and looked her squarely in her eyes. ‘Whose idea was this?’
‘Hugh’s,’ she mumbled, pushing down the panic and sadness in her heart. ‘He wanted me to do it.’
Tom nodded. ‘Exactly. He wanted you to do it and he wanted you to be happy. I imagine he’s looking down on us now.’
Daisy nodded; she knew so too. He was looking down, peering over his ridiculously expensive specs, and smiling.
‘Yes, you’re right.’ Daisy nodded again and then indicated outside. ‘Come and see?’
She was hesitant. It felt as if she was baring her all showing her friends her ideas for the rooms. They walked to the barn and she opened box after box, explaining the various French toile curtains, the linen sheets, the white bed frames. Eventually she came up for air and waited for their reaction.
‘Well…’ Tom said, his voice brimming with concern.
‘What?’ Daisy stood more upright, her heart fluttering. Why had she ever thought she could choose the right furnishings for Atworth Manor?
Tom grinned. ‘I can see you’ve decided to dodge leopard and zebra print which might be your downfall…’
Lisa snorted. ‘It’s bloody beautiful, Daisy. Bloody classy.’
‘Yeah, it really is.’ Tom pulled Daisy in for a congratulatory hug. ‘You have so many hidden talents, you beautiful woman. Hugh would be so proud. Hugh is so proud.’
Daisy felt her heart lift.
‘Good thing you got it sorted so soon because—’ Tom winked ‘—I took it on myself to sign up Atworth Manor with some exclusive agents throughout the country and Europe as James said it was worth paying a premium so…’
Daisy stared, wide-eyed.
‘We are officially a boutique B&B with 5 stars.’
‘What?’ Daisy screeched.
Lisa joined in now. ‘Yeah, you pay quite a lot of them for the ranking so…’
‘What?’ she screeched again, realising she sounded demented but she felt as if she was being hit from all sides.
‘And,’ Tom said gleefully, ‘we have our first guests arriving in…’ He looked at his watch. ‘Three days and five hours.’
‘Holy…’ Daisy’s voice was shrill. ‘What on earth were you two thinking? We have to make plans, set things up, think about the accounts.’ She was struck by something else. ‘None of us have ever done this before and you’ve already got people coming! I haven’t even got sodding eggs!’
‘Well, lucky for you,’ Tom said gallantly, ‘I have got a few of my friends, beautiful muscles, beautiful physiques, Gloucestershire’s finest if you know what I mean, to set up all the furniture, Lisa will make beds as we go and you, dear Daisy, are off to the mecca of Bed and Breakfast Land…’
She waited, expectant. Daring not to breathe.
‘Waitrose!’ he announced.
‘What are their names? Are they from the UK?’ she asked. Maybe, she thought, if they came from Iceland they might want salmon, if they came from Japan they might need sake. OK, she agreed with herself, maybe too much for breakfast but she needed to offer them a night cap. She’d been to some fabulous bed and breakfasts throughout the country with Hugh and the service never stopped at just a bed and a breakfast. In fact, she remembered Hugh getting pissed on whisky at an honesty bar in Scotland, but forgetting to pay. It was added to his bill; he had been necking a one-thousand-pound bottle of vintage whisky.
‘Relax, Dais,’ Tom said smoothly. ‘Just do what clearly comes so naturally to you.’
‘But I haven’t even been into a supermarket since Hugh died,’ she realised aloud. ‘I’ve been getting them to deliver. I mean, I don’t know who I’ll meet and I can’t bear the looks of sympathy and pity.’
‘Well, time to face the music, Daisy darling, and get that fridge full!’
Just as she was about to protest, a minibus pulled up the drive, a dust cloud in its wake. The bus was pink with a leopard print strip around its centre.
‘What on earth?’ she breathed. ‘Is this our guests?’
‘No,’ Tom announced happily, waving enthusiastically at the bus, undoing one more button on his shirt. ‘This, ladies, is heaven.’
Out of the bus, one after another, stepped six drop-dead gorgeous men: all chiselled, all with impeccable physiques and…
‘The tightest shorts I’ve ever seen,’ Daisy whispered aloud.
‘Yes, here is my dream crew ready to build your furniture and dress your house. Dave set this company up a couple of years ago when a woman he does DIY for said she wished there were more like him; men who are good with their hands and who women feel safe around.’
Daisy looked at Lisa who she expected was having a similar surreal experience herself but, in actual fact, Lisa had started to trot down the drive, greeting each and everyone by name.
‘Dave, hi!’ Lisa chirped. ‘Gary, how’s the knee? Didn’t they tell you not to slide down the pole like that…’
Daisy smiled at the team as they approached and went to shake their hands. They all shook her hand in turn and Dave, the leader, gave her the lowdown as if she were the queen.
‘I introduce to you, the Dream Team.’
‘You are very welcome,’ Daisy said, smiling. ‘So very welcome!’
Daisy spotted James’s car pulling up – he had been opening a business bank account in Cirencester – and she suppressed her laugh: now this she wanted to see.
James parked his car and got out, making his way towards the crowd now standing outside Atworth.
‘James!’ Tom shouted, the excitement evident in his voice. ‘This is James, the guy I was telling you about!’
Six, seven counting Tom, Athena poster model men from the Eighties turned to James who held his hand up awkwardly in greeting. ‘Hi all!’
The men flocked around James, and Daisy and Lisa laughed until they cried and only laughed some more when James arrived at their side, his usually carefully placed hair ruffled.
‘Well, they all seem lovely,’ James said, his voice genuine if not dazed.
‘The account all sorted?,’ Daisy said, only semi-jokingly.
‘Yep, all in order.’ He touched her arm gently. ‘You look radiant today.’
Daisy found herself blushing and she didn’t know why. She was glad when Lisa dragged James to the barn to show him the new items for the house.
Chapter 6
Three days later, having helped assign furniture to various rooms and overseen the making of the guesthouse, Daisy had realised she had to face the sea of tweed that was Waitrose in Cirencester. A bed and breakfast was not much good without the breakfast part. She had been surprised at how easy it had been and was now safely ensconced in her own kitchen. She began to unpack all the ridiculously elaborate goodies she had bought. James, who was to be their accountant, had told her just to have fun with it, budgeting was for down the line.
‘How did that go?’ James’s voice behind her and she turned to find him in the doorway.
‘Well,’ she said, holding up two boxes of eggs, ‘I’m pretty sure these are just eggs but as everything else in the store has been seeped in Madagascan vanilla pods or been allowed to have the sea breeze of Antigua rush over them, I wouldn’t be surprised if the
se eggs aren’t just eggs but eggs from a hen with its own masseuse and pool.’
James chuckled. ‘Yeah but our guests will be appreciative, I’m sure.’ He smiled. ‘In fact, I can hear a car now.’
Daisy’s heart started hammering. What on earth were they doing? People were traveling to them: the pressure was immense! But, also, somewhere deep down something shifted, a kind of unwillingness to let go of her space even further. It was one thing to allow her friends in but strangers…
Then a thought occurred to her. They didn’t even have a sodding reception desk! She hurtled past James who followed closely behind. Tom was ushering the dream team out the back door, their shirts draped casually over their buff shoulders. She waved politely and then addressed Tom. ‘We haven’t even got a reception desk!’
‘You don’t need one,’ Tom said as he checked off something else on his clipboard.
‘I want to feel like we’ve got this covered,’ she said and in one fell swoop, grabbed a sideboard in the hall, twisting it into position, took a vase of flowers from off the other table and James handed her an ancient Indian bell – an anniversary present from Hugh – just as their guest entered the hall. She moved from around the sideboard and stepped forward to greet the man.
‘Oh. My. God.’ A voice boomed across the hall. ‘This is unbelievable.’ The accent was not English but the most amazing drawl of a real-life Texan. Daisy’s heart flipped with excitement. They had international visitors.
A man with a cowboy hat and boots with actual spurs stepped forward, his baby-blue gingham shirt just about containing the overhanging waistline, helped by an opal-encrusted belt thread through his jeans’ belt loops.
‘Hi, I’m Bob,’ he said assuredly. ‘Bob from the Hamptons.’ He smiled, a smile so wide it filled the frame of his face. ‘Actually, I lie. I’m from Texas but I live in the Hamptons now.’
Daisy held out her hand. ‘Daisy – welcome to Atworth Manor.’
Tom pushed himself forward. ‘I loved Dallas,’ he enthused and James nodded in agreement.
‘Dallas, huh?’ Bob said. ‘Yeah, that was shot down the road from where I used to live.’
Lisa skipped down the stairs, talking loudly as she went, her face a sweaty mess, totally unaware of their guest in the hall. ‘I’ve just finished. Oh my God, Tom, what were you thinking inviting people to stay before we had even furnished the…’
Daisy had fixed a grin to her face and was giving Lisa a hard stare.
‘What’s up, Daisy? If looks could kill…’ She turned her head to the mountain of a man blocking out the natural light. ‘Oh, holy crap, this is our guest, isn’t it?’
Daisy nodded.
Bob let out a roar of laughter. ‘Only just finished! You mean to say that this pretty little lady here—’ he indicated Lisa with a warm smile ‘—has been rushing her tiny, English feet off to get ready for me?’ He paused. ‘I’m a cowboy at heart, folks. I would’ve been happy under canvas in your back yard.’
‘Probably not a fair swap for your money,’ Daisy offered. ‘But thank you for…’ She realised Bob and Lisa were staring at each other in a strange manner and she coughed, breaking up the moment. ‘Anyway, shall I show you to your room?’
‘That’d be great, honey.’ Then he tapped in his head. ‘I tell you what, if this weren’t screwed on… I’ve forgotten something. And that something is my other half.’
Daisy nodded and Lisa excused herself.
‘I’ll only be a tick,’ Bob laughed. ‘That’s what I learnt from some English folks this morning. A tick!’ He chuckled. ‘Isn’t that what dogs get…’ He paused. ‘Oh, speaking of, I’ll go and get my little lady love.’
Daisy watched the hulk of a man leave and she turned urgently to the others. ‘Is everything ready?’
Tom crossed something off on his list with a flourish. ‘Be charming as hell to guest. Done.’ He nodded. ‘All done, dear Daisy, and James and I are just about to lock ourselves away and discuss budgets.’
James looked vaguely alarmed at the concept.
‘You look frightened,’ Daisy commented.
‘Worrying for a man who worked in the city!’ Tom hooted.
‘I don’t think that’s the bit that’s scaring him.’ Daisy laughed as Bob walked back in with just a bag.
Tom and James excused themselves and Daisy indicated the lack of wife.
‘Um, did you forget your, um…’
‘Oh, she’s in here.’ He held up his leather weekend bag.
‘Right.’ Daisy nodded, wondering if it really was wise to open one’s house to complete strangers with perhaps a variety of issues.
Then, much to her surprise, the bag moved and she stared at the opening. Suddenly a soft chestnut-coloured Chihuahua’s head popped out.
‘Here she is, my little lady.’ Bob kissed her on the head. ‘Her name’s Barbara. Had to bring her to England with me so she could see the sights, drink tea.’
‘Oh,’ Daisy laughed, almost relieved. ‘How lovely. Does she like other dogs because we’ve got a couple of border terriers, Ant and Dec, hanging about.’
‘Well, if they’re male, she’ll like them.’ He winked. ‘She’s named after Barbara Cartland and she’s a highly-sexed little pooch, though I can assure you she’s been dealt with if you know what I mean.’
‘Has Barbara enjoyed herself so far?’
‘Hell yeah,’ Bob hooted. ‘She’s seen Buckingham Palace and I showed her a picture of the Queen with her corgis. She thought that was awesome.’ He trailed off and Daisy couldn’t be sure if he was pulling her leg or not.
‘Brilliant. Lovely.’ Daisy felt so British and formal next to this man, she wished she could offer him an American welcome with cheerleaders and a BBQ, but it would have to do. ‘Let me show you your room.
Lisa reappeared at the top of the stairs, a strange smile on her face. ‘I’ll show you, just follow me.’
Daisy went to excuse herself: Lisa was clearly keen to show Bob herself but Lisa, reading her thoughts, said, ‘Come, too, Daisy. It’s your house after all. Come and see what me and the boys have done.’
They duly followed Lisa up the stairs and towards the very first room Daisy had opened up yesterday. Lisa pushed the door open and stepped back and Bob, as if he knew this was a momentous moment for them all, on so many levels, took off his hat.
The room was beautiful. The white bedstead adorned with the greys covers looked warm and inviting, the tartan curtains made it cosy and Lisa had even thought of reed diffusers and soft lighting.
Daisy’s breath caught as she thought she could almost hear Hugh sigh with contentment. He would have been happy.
‘Are you alright, Ms Daisy?’ said Bob, noticing her moist eyes.
‘Yes, sorry, fine.’ She brushed them away. ‘Just a big moment, you being our first guest and…’ She didn’t finish. This wasn’t the time to explain her life story.
‘Well, I sure am honoured,’ he said, his face serious and eyes filled with compassion. ‘And to you, Miss…? He looked at Lisa.
‘Lisa,’ she said, blushing.
Daisy had finally twigged. She hadn’t seen Lisa this lost for words in well… never. Lisa had fallen in love with their first guest.
‘I’ll head back downstairs. Do shout if you need anything…’
‘Yes, thank you, Ms Daisy.’
She gave a small smile at his polite affectation. He was certainly the loveliest first guest they could have wished for.
‘Lisa will let you know about keys and breakfast and so on…’ Lisa wasn’t really listening but Daisy could see from the new lock on the door and sheath of keys hanging from Lisa’s pocket, her friends had all the details under control.
She decided to head down to Hugh’s office. She had told everyone the room was off limits so she knew she could gather her thoughts there.
She smiled at them as she turned on her heels and went down stairs. Alarmed, she thought she heard voices coming from Hugh’s office and picked up her pac
e as she made her way towards the familiar oak door. That couldn’t be right; she had told them to stay away.
She pushed it open and, to her horror, James and Tom were sat on the leather chesterfield in the corner, papers adorning the coffee table. They didn’t even notice her, they were laughing so hard about something – she thought she heard snippets of Dallas storylines – that it was only when she was stood over them, they stopped.
‘Hey, Daisy, everything OK?’ Tom said.
Her body was rigid with anger, her fists in tight balls at her side. ‘I told you,’ she said in a heated whisper, ‘to stay out of this room.’ Her voice caught and tears began to cascade down her cheeks.
James immediately leapt up, his face ashen. ‘Oh shit, I’m so sorry, Daisy, I completely forgot.’
Tom nodded, shuffling the papers together. ‘Yes, we forgot. It was my idea. I guess I wasn’t thinking.’ He paused. ‘The door was open…’
James started, ‘We had a key—’
‘I’ve got the only key…’ She shook her head, distress fizzing at edges of her thoughts. ‘Get out,’ Daisy breathed quietly, her voice strangled with emotion. ‘Get out.’
They moved past her. Tom tried to put his hand on her arm and she shook him off.
‘Just go.’
Once the door had been firmly shut behind them, she collapsed onto the sofa sobbing. She felt as if she was losing her connection with Hugh, like he was slipping from her grasp and with every person in her house and every person moving about Hugh’s space, she would lose sight of him altogether.
They had moved Hugh’s favourite bowl from Indonesia to the side as well as the the drinks mat that Daisy knew he kept on the left-hand side of the table. Hugh would lie across the sofa, cup in easy reach, stop reading and admire the oak tree outside as its leaves changed from season to season. Quite often she would bring him a fresh coffee late at night, when he was working on figures for a client, and find him asleep, his specs dangling from one hand, the quiet purring of sleep as his chest rose and fell.
Sunshine at Daisy's Guesthouse Page 5
