Sheena Lewis was making steady progress after her car accident, and Daisy went in to check her on Tuesday afternoon just as her husband and the children were leaving. He was in a wheelchair, and the oldest two were squabbling good-naturedly over who was going to push him back to the ward.
‘Hey, take it in turns or you won’t be allowed to push it, because you’ll hurt him,’ Sheena said. ‘Lucy first, she’s oldest. And where’s my kiss goodbye?’
The children ran to hug her, not a sign of the dutiful about them, both of them obviously devoted to their stepmother. She’d seen them before, last Friday, and they looked a great deal happier now that both their parents were on the mend.
‘Come on, horrors, let’s leave Sheena with the doctor,’ Dan Lewis said, and they left. Sheena flopped back against the pillows with a weary smile and sighed with relief, and Daisy chuckled as she turned back the covers and had a look at her wound.
‘That’s coming on really well. It looks lovely and clean. You should be able to go home soon.’
‘Good. I think Dan’s parents are finding it all a bit much. Still, he’ll be home tomorrow so he can help to keep them in order.’
‘They’re quite a handful, I imagine,’ Daisy said, wondering how she coped, but she just smilingly agreed.
‘Oh, they are, but I wouldn’t change them for the world. They’re the sweetest things, and they lost their mother four years ago, so they’ve been really upset by this accident. I think they wondered if it might not all happen again, and the fact that we’re both all right and the baby’s here is just a bit much for them on top of the shock, so they’re a bit like a bottle of fizzy drink that’s been shaken—open with care! But they’re such good kids. Dan was saying earlier that if he’d died, he wouldn’t have had to worry about the kids because he would have known they’d be all right.’
‘It’s a lot to take on. They’re lucky to have you,’ Daisy said quietly, and she shrugged.
‘I fell in love with Dan, and the kids are part of him. How couldn’t I love them? It hasn’t all been easy, don’t think that, but I wouldn’t give back a minute of it. It’s been wonderful, and it’s just got better, and I’m just so grateful that I’m alive to share it.’
‘I bet you are,’ Daisy said softly, and left her in peace. She told Ben about their conversation later, over dinner, and he winced.
‘I didn’t realise their mother was dead. Poor little things.’
‘Mmm. She said Dan feels he doesn’t have to worry about anything happening to him because they’ll be all right with her.’
‘I can understand that,’ he said, surprising her. ‘If anything happened to me and Jane wasn’t around for any reason, if you were there I’d know Florence would be safe and secure and loved.’
He trusted her that much? Feeling choked, she laid a hand over his and squeezed it. ‘Thank you.’
He turned his hand over and caught hers, threading their fingers together. ‘What for? It’s the truth, Daisy. You love her, and given the slightest encouragement, she’ll love you, too. She probably already does. It’s not hard, after all.’
‘Too hard for Mike.’
‘Tell me about him,’ he urged softly, and she shrugged.
‘Oh—what’s to tell? He just messed me about. He kept saying we’d get married one day, maybe, but he just wouldn’t set a date. He never really asked me, and he certainly didn’t give me a ring. I don’t think he had any intention of doing it, he was just looking for someone to help with the kids at weekends, and then he realised how busy I was and how much he was still having to do, so when his wife said she’d have him back, he dropped me like a hot brick—but he’d talked about us getting married in front of the children, so they were really confused because it just didn’t happen. Kids are too immediate. If you tell them you’re getting married, they want to know when, and they want it to be in the foreseeable future. “Sometime” just isn’t good enough, it’s like saying “Maybe” when they ask if they can do something. It means no. I should have realised that, pinned him down and forced his hand, and it would have been over earlier.’
‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘He should have been more straightforward with you. And if he wanted to marry you, he should have asked you properly. He was just wasting your time, using you, and I’d quite appreciate a few minutes alone with him.’
He let go of her hand and cleared the table, and they made tea and took it into the sitting room in front of the television and watched the news with Tabitha lying sprawled across them both, Ben’s arm around Daisy’s shoulders, snuggling her close and making her feel safe and wanted.
Loved.
It was a wonderful feeling. Dare she trust it? She was still afraid of making a mistake, of doing something that could hurt an innocent child as Freya and Millie had been hurt—as she’d been hurt—but there were lots of people who made second marriages work.
Take Sheena Lewis. She was amazing with her step-children, and Ben had said he felt the same way about her and Florence as Dan did about Sheena and the children.
He trusted her that much. He trusted her with his beloved child. Could she trust him?
Yes. Surely, yes.
She snuggled closer, and he turned off the television and lifted the cat off onto the floor. ‘Bedtime,’ he said, a smile flickering in the back of his eyes, and she slipped her hand through his and let him lead her up to bed.
‘Jane and Peter can’t have Florence this weekend, they’re going away,’ he told her on Thursday morning, when she’d been looking forward to it for days.
‘Oh. Well, it doesn’t matter,’ she said, surprised at how disappointed she felt, but Ben just smiled and pulled the rabbit out of the hat.
‘I’ve got a better idea. Let’s go to Yorkshire and see my parents. We’ll have resident babysitters, and it’s ages since they’ve seen her, and I can show you where I grew up.’
He was taking her to meet his parents? Wow. That was progress. She’d never met Mike’s parents—but then, as she’d realised belatedly, he’d never been serious about her, so why would she have done? She’d never been that important.
But she was important to Ben. Very important, and this weekend suddenly took on a whole new meaning of its own.
They were leaving at four on Friday afternoon, straight from work.
‘Bring a dress,’ he’d said. ‘I’ve booked a table for Saturday night, and it’s quite smart.’
‘How smart?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ll wear my suit, since you rescued it for me and it’s survived. Probably not a tie.’
The dress she’d had for Laura’s wedding? She’d only worn it once, and it was lovely. She felt really good in it, and it was the sort of material that packed well. ‘What else?’
‘Jeans and walking shoes. And just normal stuff. We’ll take my parents and Florence to Bettys for tea.’
‘Oh, I’ve heard of Bettys tearoom! Can we really go?’
‘Yes. I’ve booked that, too.’
‘You’re a marvel of organisation,’ she said with a smile, and packed. Then repacked, because she was taking far too much, and she realised she was nervous.
They set off promptly, leaving Evan in charge with strict instructions to contact Ben if anything happened with the twins, and they arrived at eight, just as the sun was going down.
It was a stone farmhouse, right on the outskirts of Harrogate, with spectacular views over the Yorkshire countryside. She could see the sun setting in the distance as he turned onto the drive, and as he pulled up outside three dogs came running towards them, tails lashing.
‘Hello, girls,’ he said, getting out of the car and greeting them, and then they rushed round to greet Daisy as Ben lifted Florence out of her seat in the back. ‘I’ll get the luggage in a minute,’ he murmured, Florence’s head lolling on his shoulder, and putting his arm round Daisy, he led her into the house, the dogs at their feet.
She felt ridiculously nervous.
Was her hair a mess? Her makeup sm
udged? She’d probably got cake crumbs round her mouth from snacking in the car—
‘You look fine,’ he said, his eyes laughing as he pushed the back door open and went in. ‘Hi, Mum.’
His mother was lovely. Warm and homely, practical, no-nonsense, with an apron tied firmly round her middle and a kitchen that smelled of heaven. ‘You must be Daisy,’ she said, beaming. ‘I’m Liz.’ And without hesitation, she hugged her. ‘Andrew’s about somewhere—ah, there you are, darling. They’re here.’
‘Dad, this is Daisy. Daisy, my father Andrew.’ Ben kissed his mother’s cheek, handed her the sleeping child, hugged his father and put the kettle on.
‘If I don’t make Daisy a cup of tea soon, she’ll kill me,’ he said mildly. ‘But if you’re opening a bottle of wine, Dad, I’m with you all the way.’
‘It’s done.’ He shook her hand firmly. ‘Hello, Daisy, it’s lovely to meet you.’
‘You, too. I’ve heard a lot about you. Apparently I have “good hands” like you when I’m operating.’
His father chuckled. ‘Oh, dear. I hope you weren’t too insulted.’
‘I told her not to be. Mum, that is seriously good chilli,’ he said, putting the lid back on the pot and licking the spoon. ‘I’m starving.’
‘You’re always starving. I’ve made plenty.’
‘Good. Where have you put us?’
His mother’s face was bland. ‘I’ve made up the guest room and your room, and Florence is in the little room. Take your pick. Bring your bags in and you can put her to bed before we eat. She’s exhausted, poor little mite. Has she eaten enough?’
‘Plenty,’ he said, laughing. ‘Dad, can you give me a hand?’
‘So where are we sleeping?’ she asked later as they were going up to bed.
‘If Florence wasn’t here, I’d say my room. As it is, I think I’d better show you to your room and kiss you goodnight.’
Pity. She could have done with a cuddle.
She got one. Too brief, but a very definite cuddle.
‘They’re lovely,’ she mumbled into his shirt.
‘They are. They think you are, too.’
He kissed her, then kissed her again, just in case she’d missed it the first time, and she had to push him away laughing.
‘Go on, go to bed. What are we doing tomorrow?’
‘Breakfast, walking the dogs, light lunch, then afternoon tea in Bettys, and then back here to get ready for dinner. And then after dinner,’ he said, his eyes twinkling, ‘I might have to introduce you to the hay barn.’
‘Gosh, you know how to treat a girl,’ she laughed, and pushed him away again. ‘Go on, out, before you have any more silly ideas.’
He went.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT WAS, as he’d said, an action-packed day.
They left Florence feeding the animals with her grandparents and walked for miles over the Yorkshire Dales, the dogs trotting happily alongside them. The weather was glorious—not too hot, and with a light breeze to cool her skin, but he’d smothered her in sun screen just to be on the safe side, and found her a hat.
He swiped it off and sang, ‘On Ilkley Moor Bar T’at’ to her in his lovely rich, deep voice with a good helping of Yorkshire, making her laugh, and they sat down under an outcrop of rocks to rest for a while. He wrapped his arm round her and hugged her against his side, and she sighed with contentment.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, looking out across the moors, and he made a soft sound of agreement.
‘I love it here. I often come here, when it’s all too much.’
‘Is it, often?’
His smile was pensive. ‘It has been. It’s getting a whole lot better,’ he said, and kissed her.
After a very light lunch they went into Harrogate and had the most wonderful afternoon tea at Bettys, served on three-tier silver cake stands, to the sounds of the resident pianist playing softly in the background. Florence was in her element, and she wriggled to the edge of her seat and ate her sandwich, then two tiny fondant fancies, and another sandwich.
‘Someone won’t want any more tonight,’ Andrew said with an indulgent smile, and Ben chuckled.
‘You’ll be amazed. The child has hollow legs.’
‘More than I have,’ Daisy said, wondering how she’d get through dinner, but by the time she was dressed and ready, her stomach was churning a little.
With hunger? Or something else?
Florence was downstairs with Ben in the kitchen when she went down there, and there was no sign of the others.
‘Will I do?’ she asked, and his eyes softened.
‘Oh, yes. You’ll do,’ he said, and smiled down at Florence. ‘Shall we sing Daisy that song?’
‘What song?’ Daisy asked, expecting another silly Yorkshire ditty, but he crouched down, sat Florence on one knee with the other one on the ground to steady himself, and counted Florence in, then started to sing.
‘One, two, three, “Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, please.”’
Daisy laughed. ‘It’s not please.’
‘Oh, yes, it is. Hush now, listen. Ready? “I’m half crazy all for the love of these.”’
She laughed again. ‘It’s not—’
He lifted a warning finger, his eyes twinkling, and Florence shushed her. ‘It’s very hard, don’t laugh!’ she said seriously.
So Daisy stopped laughing, and listened to them, Ben coaxing Florence along as she stumbled on the words.
‘“It won’t be a stylish marriage, I can’t afford a carriage, but you’ll look sweet, upon the seat of a bicycle made for three.”’
She stared at him. He was kneeling on one knee, looking up at her intently, and her heart began to pound.
The laughter was gone, his eyes deadly serious.
‘Ben?’
‘Did you like it?’ Florence asked, running up to her and grabbing her hand, her eyes alight. ‘Did you like our song?’
‘Um—yes, it was lovely, darling.’ Utterly charming, and she felt a strange sensation all over her body, a tingling, fizzing sensation, like champagne bubbles bursting through her veins. Was he—?
He was on his feet now, brushing off the knee of his horribly expensive suit and smiling at her. ‘Come on, our taxi’s here. Off to bed, poppet. Go and find Grannie and tell her we’ll see her later. Kiss!’
He bent down and kissed her, and she hugged Daisy and kissed her, too, and then skipped out, humming the tune a little off-key.
‘Got a cardigan in case it’s cold later?’
‘Um—I’ve brought a wrap,’ she said, still slightly stunned and a little off balance.
‘Great. Come on, then, let’s make a move.’
He seemed oddly tense suddenly, and he was quiet all the way there. He paid the taxi driver, then threaded his fingers through hers as they walked to the restaurant.
‘Oh, Ben, it’s lovely.’
‘Hope so. I’ve never been.’
They were ushered to a table in an alcove, and the service was incredible. Swift and unobtrusive, and the food was amazing.
‘I’ve chosen the menu—I hope you don’t mind,’ he said as they sat down, but she just shrugged, a little puzzled but prepared to go along with him, because there was something about him…
They had a starter of fish and chips—a tiny cone, with minute goujons of sole and the sweetest little French fries.
‘Gosh—the portions are a bit more delicate than the ones we got the from the Yoxburgh chippy,’ she said with a delighted laugh.
His eyes were strangely intense. ‘That was the night you told me you love me,’ he murmured, and her breath eased out on a sigh.
Oh, Ben. You sentimental thing…
The starter was followed by sea bass.
She looked at it, then at him, and he just smiled. ‘I fell in love with you over the sea bass,’ he said softly, as if that explained everything, and her heart started to beat a little faster.
She smiled at him, her heart full. ‘I think I f
ell in love with you when I opened the door and saw you covered in soggy plaster. It was the power suit that did it, of course. It looks good on you. I’m glad it survived.’
He laughed softly and topped up her wine.
‘Eat up. We’ve got a special dessert coming.’
‘Really? I’m going to struggle.’
‘I’m sure you’ll cope. It’s very light. It’s carrot based.’
‘Carrot?’ She laughed, fascinated, but she ate up as instructed, savouring every mouthful, the butterflies settling down now as he started to talk to her about his childhood.
And then his marriage.
‘I think the problem with it was that it wasn’t real. We didn’t really love each other—there was no deep-rooted connection between us, and I don’t think there was between you and Mike. I don’t know how you feel, but it’s as if I’ve never really been married—never known before I met you what it is to get to the end of the working day and long to get home to see the person I was sharing my life with. And when it all disintegrated, I wasn’t that gutted, really. It didn’t seem such a great loss.’
‘Oh, Ben, that’s so sad,’ she said. ‘And you’re right. I didn’t know Mike. I thought I did, I thought I loved him, but I just wanted to, really, and wanted him to love me, so we could make a life together for the girls, but he didn’t care about any of us. Not like you.’
‘I didn’t want to love you. No, I did. I was afraid to,’ he said honestly, and signalled to the waiter. Their plates were whisked away, and he reached over and took her hands in his, his eyes curiously intense.
‘I’d decided I’d be alone. It was easier that way, less complicated, and it meant I could concentrate on Florence. I never expected to find anyone like you. It’s the first time I’ve ever met anyone I want to spend the rest of my life with, and it’s just utterly different. I didn’t know what love was until I met you, Daisy, and now I do, well—I don’t want to let it go.’
He glanced up and let go of her hands, and a waiter placed a dish in the centre of the table between them. It was covered with a silver dome, and he bowed slightly and lifted it away with a flourish.
Tempted by Dr. Daisy Page 16
