Daisy eventually spoke once she realised roll call had finished. ‘You are all very welcome. We’ll show you to your rooms and then I can suggest some local attractions. You might like…’ Daisy wracked her brain. ‘You might like the local English vineyard. It’s just opened up for this season, they’re showing people how it’s made…’
Rupert, the husband, snorted. ‘Bloody English trying to make wine, what a joke!’
This was met with a barrage of snorting and giggles.
‘Well said, Rupy-Poopy!’ Annabelle laughed. ‘No, actually, we might just sit in front of your fire and play in your garden.’
Everyone nodded as though that was fair game and went off to collect their bags.
Daisy looked frantically at James. ‘Fire? Play in the garden?’
James frowned. ‘Well, I guess we hadn’t thought about that bit.’
Daisy nodded. ‘No, well, you go and make up the fire in the sitting room and I’ll go and look for the Giant Jenga under the stairs.’
Half an hour later, the guests had been shown their rooms and were now downstairs and, as far as Daisy was concerned, they were running amuck through her house. But it was no longer just her house; she knew that. These were paying guests and surely it was fine that Hermione, or Hermes, had found that if she leapt from the middle landing towards the chandelier she could just about to touch the crystals with her hand. Annabelle, glass of Prosecco in hand (at 11 a.m., Daisy noted), giggled and held her glass up to Hermes.
‘Darling, probably best you don’t jump from there…’ Again, ‘there’ sounded like ‘thar’. ‘Maybe try jumping from the other side of the landing, yah?’ Annabelle turned to Daisy. ‘You have such a beautiful, little house going on here, don’t you? It’s absolutely so sweet.’
Daisy raised a brow. ‘Little?’
‘Yes, darling, I mean it’s just so cute.’
‘You live in Marylebone? That’s a lovely area of London. House prices very expensive.’
‘Hmm…’ Annabelle sipped her drink. ‘Yah, I suppose they are. Hadn’t thought about it. We own two houses, knocked into one. Just lovely. But, of course, we own other houses too.’ She chuckled. ‘I mean I’ve always wanted a house in the country but Rupey says that there’s no point whilst we own half of London!’ She laughed heartily at her own wealth.
Daisy nodded, irritation flooding her body. ‘Well, thank you for admiring my home.’ My hovel, she thought dimly.
James reappeared with more logs for the fire and Annabelle skipped over to him.
‘Oh, James, you are being ever so helpful.’ She brushed his shirt with the tips of her fingers causing Daisy’s stomach to turn. Was Annabelle flirting with James? ‘You really are a gem.’
‘Oh, Annabelle, it’s nothing honestly. We just want you to be happy here.’ He grinned at her. ‘All part of the service.’
James’s eyes flicked towards Daisy, but Annabelle continued unabashed. Annabelle put her glass on the sideboard and leant down to readjust her trouser leg, clearly flashing her cleavage at James. Daisy noted the way he ever so slightly blushed and she moved forward.
‘Annabelle,’ she said rather more abruptly than she had planned, ‘why don’t I show you and the children the Giant Jenga I’ve put in the garden?’
Annabelle gave her a black look but quickly smiled and then placed her hand firmly on James’s forearm. ‘Hope to see you later, James.’
Over my dead body, thought Daisy but then, as quickly, wondered why on earth she was getting so riled and realised it really was nothing to do with her. However, she thought resolutely, she wanted to uphold some sort of professionalism at Atworth Manor and flirting with guests was not adhering to that policy. She would inform everyone, especially James, later on…
Annabelle duly followed Daisy out the back door. Daisy could not relax around this woman, she wasn’t sure why but there was an air of ownership about her; this was someone who got what she wanted.
‘Well, here you are.’ Daisy pointed at the Jenga game as if she expected Annabelle to start playing at her command.
‘Thank you, darling.’ Annabelle wasn’t even looking at the Jenga, however. She was staring back through the sitting room window at James stoking the fire and putting on fresh logs. Rupert could be heard through the closed windows telling everyone the story of his rugby triumph as a young boy at Eton.
‘If I hear that story one more…’ Annabelle muttered through gritted teeth. ‘Anyway, thank you, darling Daisy, I will let the children know.’ She inspected her nails. ‘So James tells me you’ve only just opened up your quaint B&B because your husband…’ Her voice trailed off.
Daisy looked her in the eyes. ‘Yes, that’s right. My husband died just over a year ago.’ Daisy forced a smile. ‘And, it’s going very well so far.’ For day three, she thought, but actually I wish I hadn’t opened my house to snobs like you.
James appeared in the doorway and Annabelle held out her glass. ‘Would you, James? Get me another Prosecco. I have a pounding head and it really is the only thing that will cure it.’
James furrowed his brow momentarily and smiling, took the glass. ‘Of course.’
‘We brought our own fizz, darling. We didn’t know if you country bumpkins would have a bar.’
‘Well, we don’t because we are a bed and breakfast, not a full board hotel,’ Daisy pointed out, her shoulders stiffening.
‘Yah, of course.’ Annabelle smiled as James approached with her full glass. ‘You really have quite a man here working for you.’
Daisy’s breath caught with annoyance. ‘He is a friend, actually. We all work together.’ She looked at James to gauge his reaction and to wait for his support. Instead, she was surprised to find James appear to grimace at her words. ‘James? That’s right, isn’t it? We’re all good friends.’
‘Yes, just friends, as Daisy keeps saying,’ he said, looking at Daisy and nodding. ‘We’re just friends. A group of us decided to set it up after…’ The shadow that had previously crossed his features lifted and the old James was reinstated. He smiled tenderly at Daisy. ‘After Hugh, our dear friend and Daisy’s husband, died.’
Annabelle, Daisy noted, clutched her glass increasingly tightly. ‘Well, sometimes, don’t we all wish to be single again?’ Laughter erupted from her small mouth like tinkling glass. ‘Here’s to moving on!’ She held her glass up and Daisy and James pretended to hold up their own.
Rupert, as if on cue, appeared at the door.
‘Oh there you are, Annie.’ He noted the glass in her hand. ‘Didn’t notice you had cracked open a bottle?’ His words appeared to be emphatic of a previous argument.
‘I have one of my headaches.’ Annabelle barely looked at him as she spoke.
‘Well, can you come inside, please? Aggers wants to know if the maid packed his Jack Wills sweatshirt. He keeps complaining of being cold.’ Rupert looked at James. ‘Despite your splendid fire, old chap.’
James nodded and smiled.
‘Well, it is a draughty house,’ Daisy said. ‘I’ll advance the heating. Maybe that will help?’
‘Oh, well, we’ll pay extra, of course, if that’s OK with you?’ Rupert nodded gratefully.
Daisy was just glad to be able to leave them and she walked off quickly to the kitchen. There, she found Hermes sat on a chair at the kitchen table. She coughed as she approached, even though it was her house, and Hermes looked up at her with disdain. Like her mother, Daisy thought.
‘Hi, Hermes,’ Daisy broached as diplomatically as she could. ‘Guests aren’t really allowed in the kitchen.’
‘Why? Mother and Father have paid you a bucketload, I don’t see why I can’t sit in your sodding kitchen.’
Daisy threw her head back with surprise. She knew she hadn’t spent much time around children but surely this wasn’t normal for a girl who could be no older than twelve.
‘How old are you?’
‘Eleven.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Please don’t try and make small talk with me.’<
br />
Daisy had had enough. ‘Right, Hermione, please leave my kitchen. I’ve had quite enough.’ Daisy pushed the advance button on the boiler and turned back to the girl, quite expecting another mouth full. Instead, she was confronted with an eleven-year-old in floods of tears. ‘Oh dear God, I didn’t mean to sound horrible!’ Daisy rushed to her side, put her hand on the girl’s hand. ‘I’m sorry, do sit if you want to, it’s fine.’
The young girl snivelled and looked up at her. ‘Don’t tell Mother and Father I’m here.’ Her eyes rounded. ‘Please. I’m just so sick of their arguing and Mother’s drinking.’
Daisy’s heart softened and she pulled a chair up next to Hermione. ‘Oh, listen, do you like cake?’
Hermione gave a half-smile. ‘I’m not allowed cake.’
‘What?’ Daisy pulled a mock-tragic look. ‘Not allowed cake? That’s illegal.’
Hermione laughed. ‘Mother says I have to keep my GI level down and something about cleansing my colon…’ The girl looked at Daisy in earnest and Daisy, in turn, did everything she could not to snort with laughter.
‘Well, I tell you what…’ Daisy stood. ‘I am going to close this kitchen door and get us both a slice of chocolate cake.’ She smiled. ‘I didn’t make it, you’ll be glad to know, you can ask my ex-husband about my baking skills.’ The word ex made Daisy stop in her tracks.
Hermione looked at her. ‘Ex?’
Daisy cleared her throat. ‘Yes, he died recently. Well, just over a year ago so not that recent.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Hermione bowed her head reverentially.
‘Thank you.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I guess we both need cake.’
They sat together, unspeaking, eating their cake, drinking squash and Daisy realised she felt quite calm once again.
‘Thank you, Hermione. You’ve been great company.’
‘So have you, Miss Daisy.’
‘I tell you what, you can come here whenever you like, just don’t tell anyone else.’
Hermione rose from her chair and pushed it under the table. ‘I won’t tell.’ She grinned, her cheeks rosy from the warmth of the Aga and no doubt, Daisy thought gleefully, sugar was buzzing around her tiny frame. Bugger the GI index and the sugar dodging purists, she thought, there was more to life than weight and bloody skin complexion.
She thought of her own mother who would have had none of that. In fact, Daisy remembered the time she quoted some super food diet in her Glamour magazine at her parents; it had been met with grumbles of the youth’s lack of appreciation of the work that went into food. And therein, her move towards a diet had been stamped on and she had never thought about the D-word since. She had been a gym bunny at university – mother had claimed it unnatural – but since then, and since marrying Hugh, she had returned to her curvier self.
James strode into the kitchen and caught her eating the remaining morsels of her cake. She pushed it away guiltily, as if her mind’s meanderings could be read on her face.
‘That looks yummy.’ He sat where Hermione had just been sat. ‘I just saw Hermione and she whispered to me, “You’ve got a good one there.” What did she mean?’
Daisy blushed despite herself. ‘I have no idea. We barely spoke. She needed some respite from her family and I told her she could sit in here with me and eat cake.’ Daisy laughed. ‘First slice of cake she’s been allowed in years, she’ll be bouncing off the ceilings.’
James smiled affectionately at Daisy. ‘Well, maybe she’s right, you are a good one.’
‘Oh, you soft git.’ Daisy smiled. ‘I’m not sure about any of that. I’m not sure I’m a good one and I’m not yours.’ She laughed, getting up. ‘But there you go.’ She started to clear the plates into the sink.
He fell silent and Daisy turned to look at him. ‘Are you okay?’
He nodded. ‘I could be yours, if you wanted.’
She laughed, almost nervously, unsure of what he meant. ‘You mean because Hugh’s given you the job?’
‘No, because…’ He faltered. ‘No, because…’
‘She started scrubbing unnecessarily hard at a plate. ‘Because?’ She realised she wasn’t breathing; her heart wouldn’t be still either.
‘Because…’ She turned again at his voice. ‘Because I care about you.’
Daisy smiled, trying to hide her disappointment. ‘As I do you.’
He smiled, rose and squeezed her shoulder with his strong palm. ‘My dear Daisy.’
She returned the smile, their eyes searching each other’s but it was only once he had left that she inhaled deeply and tried to calm her shaking hands.
Chapter 8
The hashtag Holibobs crew took themselves off to the local pub for supper. Annabelle popped her head around the kitchen door as they made their way out.
‘Any sign of James? Haven’t seen him all day.’ She smiled sweetly at Daisy. ‘Wanted to thank him for all his help.’
By this point Tom, Lisa and Bob (and Barbara) had all returned and they were tucking into Daisy’s homemade lasagne. Daisy had filled them in on the unlikely Marylebone crew.
Annabelle’s eyes surveyed the others. ‘Is it normal to have your staff to supper, Daisy?’ She asked this question quite innocently.
‘They’re not staff. That’s what I was saying earlier. They are my dear friends. As in they really are my dear friends.’ She pointed in turn. ‘Here’s Tom.’
Tom stood, wearing a new Hawaiian shirt that was one or two sizes too small, and thrust out his hand. ‘Ah, you’re the famous Annabelle. Hope you’re settling in OK.’
Annabelle ignored his hand. ‘What are you wearing? Is it Halloween?’
Tom jutted out his jaw and pouted. ‘Uh, no need to be rude with a capital R.’ He sat back down sulking.
Daisy sighed inwardly. ‘This is Lisa and Bob.’
Bob stood up and also stuck out his hand. ‘Good evening, ma’am.’
Annabelle finally obliged and shook his hand. ‘Do you come from some ghastly place in the US? You don’t sound English.’
‘Correct, ma’am.’ Bob cocked his head. ‘I’m from glorious Texas.’
Annabelle actually pulled a face of disgust and Daisy wished she would just leave.
‘Anyway, James isn’t here but I will pass on your thanks.’
Annabelle hovered momentarily and then left without another word. Daisy heard the front door slam and closed the kitchen door once more, breathing a sigh of relief.
‘That woman gets under my skin.’ She looked at her friends. ‘I’m not sure about this anymore. I don’t know if I want people taking over my house. It feels wrong somehow.’ She paused. ‘I mean, she was all over James.’
Tom raised a brow. ‘Are you surprised? The man’s a god. I’m amazed we’re not having to fight off the mobs outside.’
Daisy grew irritable. ‘Oh for God’s sake, Tom, he’s just a human.’
Lisa and Tom exchanged a look. ‘You know, it’s okay to find men attractive again,’ Lisa said quietly. ‘You are allowed to move on.’
Daisy turned her back on the group around the table and poured herself a stiff gin and tonic. She knew she had to get a grip and that she had no reason to be annoyed with anyone but for some reason she felt as if she was spiralling out of control. She gulped back the drink, silence looming behind her and realised that sadly the ground wouldn’t swallow her up so she turned back to the table.
Bob was clutching Lisa’s hand and Tom was holding Barbara’s paw.
‘Love you, Daisy,’ Tom said his face filled with concern. ‘Maybe it was a daft idea. I shouldn’t have left you guys today to deal with that lot.’ He indicated the London crew.
‘Yes, we should have stayed,’ Lisa agreed.
Bob nodded solemnly.
Daisy looked at them all with affection, her eyes wandering once more to Lisa and Bob’s hands. ‘Are you…?’
Bob grinned and Lisa blushed.
‘Well, congrats…’ Daisy said holding up her glass. ‘Here�
�s to love.’
They all affably joined in. ‘To love.’
‘Where has James gone?’ Daisy said, realising she hadn’t seen him since her cake with Hermes.
Tom looked up. ‘Said he had to go to London to sort out some business stuff. He says he’ll be back tomorrow.’ He shrugged. ‘He’s very James Bond, isn’t he? Quite shady.’
‘Well, I suppose we all have our own lives and we need to remember that.’ She paused. ‘Especially for this to work.’
‘In which case, darling Daisy,’ Tom said, ‘you go upstairs and have a long soak and pamper yourself. We’ll clean up.’ He smiled kindly. ‘Also, James says that he’s sorted the cleaning company for the rooms and they’ll come in every day at eight to sort everything out.’ He came over and put his arms around her shoulders. ‘So you just have to be the lady of the manor.’ He kissed her nose. ‘Which you already do so impeccably.’
Daisy smiled and, suddenly feeling so overwhelmingly tired, decided to take them up on their offer. She wished them all a good night and headed upstairs. Once she had set the ancient roll top’s tap to hot – she knew it would take an age to fill – she decided to go and sit quietly in Hugh’s study.
She sat on the leather sofa and caressed the space where Hugh would have sat with her hand.
‘Listen to Tom and Lisa,’ she whispered, ‘talking about it being okay to find other men attractive.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘How can I find other men attractive? I mean that’s not right, is it?’
Of course, she was met with silence but still she ploughed on.
‘I want to be yours forever, Hugh.’ She pinched the leather now, emotion swelling inside her. ‘Why did you leave me? Why couldn’t we have gone together?’
She gazed around the room, her eyes blurry, and noticed a bright Post-it note had been left on top of a piece of paper on Hugh’s desk. Daisy sat bolt upright and stood, staring at it, almost too afraid to pick it up. It was as if Hugh had come back and written her a note but as she picked it up gingerly she recognised it to be James’s writing. Irritation bubbled inside her: she had told him quite categorically that he wasn’t allowed in Hugh’s office and yet, he was here leaving her notes.
Sunshine at Daisy's Guesthouse Page 7
