Tim’s desk is just outside the office, and he keeps rubbing his upper (hair-covered) lip with a finger. It’s one of the things he does when he’s anxious.
‘Can you hit today’s deadline? There’s a slot on page 4, not much but we can always expand if the online hit rate is good.’
I start to choke on my biscuit, which I think I’ve inhaled out of shock, and follow it with a sip of coffee which is so hot I think my tongue has melted.
I grab a tissue and pant into it, my eyes watering, heaving for breath. ‘Sorry, it went,’ another crumb tickles my throat and sets me off again, ‘down the wrong way.’
Today’s deadline? A slot?
‘Happens to us all!’ I bet it doesn’t happen to him. ‘The more I’ve thought about it, the more I think it’s a brilliant idea, there’s nothing like helping the local community.’ He leans forward looking at me earnestly from behind his glasses. ‘That’s what we’re supposed to be doing, isn’t it? That’s partly why we brought you in.’
I nod. And then it clicks. I realise what he is talking about.
‘The dog rescue centre.’
He looks at me, as though he’s expecting me to expand on the statement. What am I going to do? Shit, what’s the plan? The plan. He’s expecting me to have a plan.
‘Another tissue?’ He smiles encouragingly. ‘Take your time.’ He grins. ‘But not all day, we have a deadline!’
I can do this. It’s easy. I do have a plan. ‘A fun day, an open day. That’s what the centre needs.’ He nods. ‘We need to build up interest,’ bloody hell, how do we do that? ‘I thought maybe a feature on a few of the dogs?’ Funny features, that’s what we need. ‘Where they came from?’ I’ve got it! ‘The saddest, funniest, ugliest ones!’
‘A series then.’ His fingers are steepled and he’s watching me keenly.
‘Series?’
‘Of articles, start now do one a week.’
‘Really?’
‘Have you got enough material?’
‘Oh heaven’s yes, there’s lots of stuff, I mean some of the places they’ve come from, and some of them are real characters, and then there’s Carrie, she was brought up in foster care you know, which is probably why she feels like she does, and she lost her partner and …’
He frowns and hold up a hand to stop me. ‘I can’t see why Tim had any doubts about running this, it’s dynamite. Well maybe not,’ he smiles and it’s slightly mischievous, ‘in the eyes of a national, but this is gold for a local paper. Do it girl! Go on, scoot!’
‘Now?’
‘Now.’ He bangs the desk with the flat of his hand and I jump. ‘Let’s do this!’
I stand up clutching my coffee, but in my head I’m dashing round squealing. ‘But my reviews?’
‘Cut back but do those as well. I’ll work out how many words you need to run with and email you. Anything else?’
‘Er, well, no.’
‘Photographer?’
‘Oh, that would be great, yes, thanks.’
‘Get Maureen on it, check the diary and make sure next week’s piece has some heart-breaking photo’s, right get going then, you don’t want to miss the deadline, do you?’
‘This week’s? You mean I can start …’
‘Straightaway. And, Daisy …’ his voice stops me as I reach the door – ‘take the biscuits; I’m on a diet, according to my wife.’
Oh my God. It is happening!
I grab Tim’s arm and pull him over to the water cooler. ‘He said I can do it! Now! Straightaway!’ I might be jumping up and down a bit, it’s hard to keep still. This is it, my career is moving on!
‘What?’
‘Write about Carrie, run a feature!’
‘Fantastic.’ He squeezes my arm. ‘Get it right though, don’t screw up the proper job!’
Okay, maybe my career is only making a temporary leap and normal service will be resuming soon. ‘I won’t.’Yay, I’ve been given free rein to help.
‘Talking of which,’ he taps his watch, ‘deadline looming!’
I take the hint and go back to my desk. Slightly deflated. At times I could strangle Tim. But I don’t. I find myself picking up my mobile and hitting the speed dial button.
I know exactly who will be pleased with this news, exactly who I want to share it with. ‘Ollie?’ I lean forward and lower my voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
‘Dais?’
‘Are you busy? Shall I call back?’
‘No, it’s fine, fine. You just sound a bit strange, stranger than normal!’
‘Ha-ha, I’m whispering, I don’t want to get the sack now I’ve got the go ahead!’
‘Go ahead?’
‘You were right! You were right all along, I talked to James and he said yes! He said yes, Ol! I’m going to write a feature about Carrie, well several, a series, and I get a photographer, and an open day!’
‘Hang on, slow down.’ He’s laughing, his deep chuckle infectious, making me laugh with him. ‘That’s amazing! You’re amazing!’
I’m glowing and feel fit to burst. I want to hug him, do a silly jig, dance round the office.
‘I knew you could do it, Carrie will be thrilled.’
‘Oh God, yes, I’ve got to tell Carrie. She doesn’t know yet.’
‘You told me before you told her?’ I can imagine his lifted eyebrow, the quirk of his mouth, the dimple. ‘Thank you.’
Two words, just two words but he says them so softly, so genuinely that they send a shiver down my spine.
‘I’ll bring some bubbly home, unless you want me to take you out to celebrate?’ Bloody hell, his voice is even deeper and sexier on the phone than in real life.
‘Home is fine.’
‘See you later, Dais. Well done!’
I put the phone down slowly, my cheeks glowing. In fact, I’m glowing all over. I did it! And Ollie thinks I’m amazing.
I want to high-five him. But I can’t. So I pick the phone up again and pick out another number. I have got to tell Carrie that she’s holding an open day and dog show!
Chapter 18
6 p.m., 15 December
‘Oh my God, that was brilliant.’ Carrie hugs me, and her eyes are glistening. It’s very unlike Carrie, who never shows weakness of any kind. She sniffs and wipes the back of her hand over her face. ‘It was awesome, thank you so much you lovely lady. You’re the best friend ever.’
‘How much money did we make?’ This has just got to be one of the best days of my life. I cannot believe just how many people turned up to Carrie’s Fun Dog Show and Open Day.
‘God knows! But so many people have filled in forms to adopt, or sponsor, look!’ She holds up a sheaf of forms and laughs, letting them fall to the table. I’ve not seen her look this happy and relaxed since, well since Evie was here. ‘Your friend Frankie is so brilliant at persuading people to do stuff.’
‘I know.’ I grin. ‘She sees a weakness and she’s in there.’ She does. There’s no hesitation with Frankie, she knows what you want before you do. I’d hoped she’d hang around at the end and get to know Carrie a bit better, but dogs’ homes aren’t really her thing. She probably shot off to go to some grand opening of something or other, or a night with Tarquin, I didn’t get time to ask.
Carrie winks. ‘Wow, really moving up the ranks these days, no stopping our small ads girl! You should ask for a promotion, or a move, or whatever it is. The features you did were amazing. I mean, even before today we’ve had so many donations sent in, and tons of enquiries! I’ve been able to pay the arrears plus put money aside to cope with the Christmas rush! You are awesome!’
I’d been quite excited once James gave me the go ahead, and really pleased with my first attempt which I’d thought was quite witty. I’d even had emails and readers letters about the dogs! ‘I’ll be quite sad to just go back to writing reviews.’
‘They won’t do that will they? Can’t you have a column, you know write about pets or local businesses or something?’
‘I do
n’t know, Carrie.’ I hug her. James hasn’t suggested anything, he’d just accepted my plan for the features and that had been it.
I try to smile brightly. ‘It’s all good experience though, and I’m so pleased I could help. This is about you, not me!’
She hugs me. ‘See you soon?’
‘Definitely.’
I stand at the gate and take a deep breath and wish Tim hadn’t had to rush back to file his copy and check the photographs. It would have been nice to stroll down to the local pub together and celebrate my tiny success. But I guess to him it’s just another job.
‘The girl did good, eh?’
I spin round and grin. I haven’t seen much of Uncle Terence lately and I’ve missed him. It’s strange how quickly I’ve got used to our little chats, and his advice.
‘Wasn’t it great!’
‘It certainly was. I take it you are going back to your parents?’
I nod. ‘I’m staying for tea then heading back into town.’
‘I’m sure your mother is dying to hear how it went, she’s very proud you know!’
‘That makes a change!’ I smile, but I know she is. ‘Poor Mum, she’s always tried her hardest to find something to boast about, but Vera has had so much more material to work with!’
He chuckles. ‘I’m going that way as well. Come on, dearest Daisy, let’s walk together.’ Uncle T inclines his elbow, and I slip my hand through it.
It’s a beautiful evening, a clear sky and a crispness to the air that takes my breath away but makes me feel full of energy despite how hectic the last week has been. The perfect end to one of the best days of my life.
‘Thanks for coming.’
Uncle T smiles. ‘My pleasure, it was a triumph!’ He kisses my cheek. ‘Wouldn’t have missed it for the world. And it was so lovely to see young Carrie with a smile on her face.’
‘She’s going to make it an annual event. Plus, do a summer one, one in July would be brilliant wouldn’t it?’
‘And so she should, a triumph! No small thanks to you and your publicity campaign.’ We walk on for a few minutes in silence. ‘Lovely to see your interesting friend again. She’s quite a character, isn’t she?’
I laugh. Interesting is one word for Frankie. ‘She’s lovely underneath all that flash exterior. She really helped me when I was living with her and pushed me to apply for my job.’ I shrug.
‘Smart girl.’
‘Well she actually suggested I go for the marketing manager job, you know, aim high, but then Tim said they had the other vacancy, which is tons better.’
‘Indeed it is.’ He pats my hand.
‘Frankie was a bit shocked I got it!’
‘I wasn’t, none of us were.’ He smiles. ‘It’s so wonderful to see the old Daisy blooming again. No pun intended.’
I frown at him.
‘You’re reaching for the sun, going after you want. If you believe in yourself, anything can happen dear girl. Surround yourself with positivity. That’s what Ollie does.’
‘Hmm.’ In the past, any mention of Ollie used to make me feel all defensive and cross inside, but I’ve just realised that I’m not feeling like that at all these days. Maybe because I’m beginning to see the real Ollie, underneath all the hype. Which he didn’t create in the first place – our mothers did.
I also realise with a jolt that I’ve really missed him today. I would have loved him to be here, after all it was him who encouraged me to go ahead. When I get home, I will text him, tell him all about it, and say thank you.
‘You and Ollie are quite alike you know.’ I glance up at Terence, and he’s looking quite smug and happy.
‘We are?’ He sounds more interested than surprised.
‘You are. And you’ve both really helped me.’
‘I’m glad. You get on then now? No Chinese burns and pushing each other under the water in the bath tub?’
‘He’s not coming anywhere near my bath tub!’ I feel myself redden. ‘But, er, yes. I’m not sure he likes all my stuff cluttering up the place, and I’m not sure he’s that keen on Tim.’
‘Are you? Keen on Tim.’
‘He’s nice.’ I say, which sounds a bit defensive (and lame) even to my own ears. If I am keen, I seem to be the only one. Frankie makes the odd snide comment even though she’s only met him a handful of times, and Ollie is wary and keeps out of his way. But am I? Or are we just a not-so-good habit?
‘Ollie is probably just giving you space.’ Says Uncle T, but he’s got that thoughtful edge to his voice.
‘I wish I was more like Frankie.’ The words are unexpected, but I can’t stop them. I do, I really do. I want to be interesting, different. I want to challenge the world like she does.
‘No, you don’t, darling Daisy.’ I grind to a halt, so Terence has to as well. He looks me in the eye, then encourages me to walk on. ‘You need to want to be more like you. You is the very best there is. Ah, here we are, home sweet home!’
7.30 p.m., 17 December
‘What the hell is this?’
I glance over at Tim, who is dangling something black in the air and looking at it disdainfully.
‘T shirt? God, I have nothing to wear!’I rake through the hangars in my wardrobe again. We’re late and we’re going out with Frankie and Tarquin and I have decided I need to make an effort. Frankie and Tim got on so well at the fundraiser for Carrie we arranged another get together as soon as we could.
I’ve been doing my best to follow Sasha’s fashion advice since July after she picked out my outfit for Mum’s party. Ollie had told me I looked nice for the first time, and even Mum had been impressed.
In fact, Ollie often makes comments about my clothes in a nice way, and I’ve even started to ask his opinion. Though he did get a bit stuffy and mutter something about it not being in his remit to tell me if my bum looked big, and maybe I should ask my boyfriend.
Sasha says I need to find my own style, so I’ve been trying. But secretly I think my style is more jeans, shirt, cowboy boots and hat – a combo that doesn’t always work, especially in December at a posh wine bar. But it does kind of suit my messy blonde hair (which is currently in a very messy bun) and blue-grey eyes.
‘Are you nearly ready?’ Tim is looking at his watch. ‘We’re going to be late.’ He taps it. Actually taps it.
He’s not normally bothered if we’re late, so I give him a look. ‘Can’t you wait in the lounge? Watch TV or something, I’m not going to be long!’ I hate being watched while I’m trying to pick an outfit out. Mainly because I want to be able to put one on, strip it off, put another one on, strip it off, until I’ve exhausted all possibilities and gone back to option one, and tried adding a necklace, or belt, or something. I’m self-conscious if he watches.
‘I like watching you.’ He sits on the bed. ‘It’s sexy.’
‘But we haven’t got time for sex, you said we were late!’
‘I just want to think about it, for later.’ Tim does a lot of this, thinking about it for later. Then, after an evening out he’s usually so drunk he just has a quick fumble then falls asleep before he can remember why he’s doing it. I’m going to have to be more organised and get ready earlier if I want a sex life with him. But he takes so long in the shower, and hogging the mirror, I’m always last minute.
‘We could do it now?’ I check my own watch. I’m sure we can fit a quick romp in, it’s not like it takes hours, is it?
‘I can’t just do it, I’m a man not a machine you know! And the pompous prick might come back.’
I cringe. He won’t stop calling him that, ever since he heard Frankie say it. ‘Ollie’s away at a conference, I told you.’
‘Or your bloody dog will want to join in.’
I have to admit, Stanley does find the sight of Tim’s bare bum fascinating. It’s a bit unnerving when he jumps onto the foot of the bed, sits down, and stares. His little head bobbing up and down in time. I laughed once, which completely ruined the mood.
‘So, you d
on’t want a shag?’ I turn back to the mirror. ‘Messy hair okay, or too messy.’
‘It’s fine.’ He sighs and stands up. ‘So,’ his tone is now slightly belligerent, ‘whose is this? It’s too big for you!’
I stop trying to do flicky eyes and look at him. ‘It’ll be Ollie’s, you know it will.’
‘In your bedroom?’
‘I told you, the washing sometimes gets mixed up. I just grab a pile and shove it in the drawers without paying attention.’
‘Hmm.’ He drops it on the floor and marches off into the lounge.
‘Bloody hell!’ I’ve just made a real mess of my right eye, after doing a perfect black flick on my left. He’s completely wrecked my concentration. I can tell he’s cross and my tummy has done a bit of a dive. He seems to thrive on winding me up, causing an argument, and then making up. He can be hard work at times.
‘Tim.’ I drop the eyeliner and follow him into the lounge. ‘You know there’s nothing going on. He’s not even here most of the time, I live on my own!’
He’s sat on the sofa, sulkily messing with the remote control.
‘Even Frankie thinks you fancy him.’
‘Since when did you talk to Frankie?’ We hardly ever see her when we’re together.
He shrugs. ‘Your mum’s party? Dog show? She always makes comments!’
‘Because she fancies him!’
‘Bollocks.’ He looks a bit less sure of himself though. ‘Does she?’
‘Definitely. That’s why she’s always so scathing and insists on calling him pompous prick, to cover up the fact.’
‘But she’s got Tarquin.’
‘I know.’ I sigh, slip off the arm of the sofa so that I am sitting next to him. ‘I don’t think she’s sure about him though, she wouldn’t let him move into the flat until she didn’t feel she had a choice.’
‘Really?’ He looks more interested now, than argumentative, which is good. Then he sits back and stares at me, then sits forward and grasps his hands together, then ums and ahs in a very un-Tim like way.
‘Are you okay? You still want to go out?’
He moves closer, which is a bit alarming, and cups his hands round my face. He strokes his thumb across my cheek, and I wonder if this happens to everybody after being in a relationship with someone. Not the thumb thing, but the fact that it is no longer sending a thrill of anticipation into my knickers. I’m not dying to grab him and kiss him. Instead I’m wondering if it’s a crumb in his beard or a grey hair.
Four Christmases and a Secret Page 18