Daisy Does it Herself

by Gracie Player

  ‘Well, not in THE act,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t going to go that far. Not according to Phil at least.’

  ‘Phil being the cheating boyfriend?’ said Alex.

  He looked a bit sceptical, which annoyed me for some reason, and I found myself defending Phil’s version of events.

  ‘Well, Frannie did throw herself at him. That part I don’t find hard to believe. I really wouldn’t put it past her.’

  I was on the defensive now, although I wasn’t sure who I was defending or why. ‘You don’t know her, or Phil either, so really you’re not in any position to judge.’

  Alex shrugged, unconvinced. ‘I guess you’re right.’

  ‘It’s complicated,’ I said, ‘like any relationship.’

  He nodded. ‘True enough.’

  ‘So, are you seeing anyone?’ I asked, wanting to turn the tables on him.

  ‘Me? No. I’m footloose and fancy-free.’ It didn’t sound like all that much fun the way Alex said it.

  ‘Good for you,’ I replied.

  Alex gestured at my bowl. ‘More?’

  ‘What?’ I asked, thrown by the change in direction.

  Taking my ‘what?’ for a yes, Alex strode over to the stove, fetched the pan and ladled two dozen more gnocchi into my dish.

  ‘What are you trying to do?’ I said. ‘I won’t be able to make it up the stairs at this rate. I’ll have to sleep downstairs in the bookshop.

  ‘There’s a name for what you’re doing, you know,’ I went on petulantly, the effect somewhat marred by the mouthful of food I was stuffing into my face.

  ‘You’re a Feeder!’

  Alex laughed and held his hands up in surrender. ‘You got me’ he said, ‘but curves—hell, I’m all for em.’

  I laughed, but I felt better about tucking into the second helping. I normally had to make up excuses for a carb-fest or indulge in secret. It felt quite nice to have a partner in crime.

  ‘So tomorrow,’ I said, ‘is there anything I should know about the bookshop before you throw me in at the deep end?’

  ‘No need to worry. I asked Janice to come in. She can show you the ropes.’

  ‘Oh. Right. You won’t be around yourself?’

  Alex shook his head, looking a little troubled. ‘I’ve got a few things to do tomorrow. I’ll have to close the café in the morning.’

  ‘Joe can’t run it alone?’

  ‘He’s up at uni for the day.’

  There was a slight silence then, not exactly awkward, but I did feel the need to fill it. Getting to my feet, stuffed with gnocchi, I started clearing the plates away.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Alex said.

  ‘Err, the washing up.’

  ‘I’ll do that,’ he protested.

  ‘You will not. You cooked, I clean. That’s the rule.’

  Alex, it turned out, had a stubborn streak as wide as his generous one. In the end we compromised.

  Working in companionable silence, I washed, handing the soapy dishes over to Alex, who dried and popped them away. We stood close together, our fingers occasionally brushing. It felt intimate, like we were a couple. I tried to ignore the stab of desire I felt as he moved carefully around me.

  Once we’d finished, we had nothing left to occupy our hands. We stood looking at each other, and I couldn’t think of a damned thing to say. The atmosphere in the kitchen had suddenly become charged. His eyes dropped to my mouth and then dragged back up again.

  I laughed nervously and took a step back, half expecting him to close the space between us and sweep me up into a kiss. I couldn’t let that happen. Though just then, as he looked at me like that, I couldn’t for the life of me remember why.

  The moment stretched out becoming awkward until finally Alex said, ‘Well, I’ll be off then,’ a slight smile on his face. ‘I should get my beauty sleep. Some of us need more of it than you do.’

  I smiled at the shameless flattery. To my surprise, Alex wrapped me up in a quick fierce hug. ‘It’ll be all right, Daisy,’ he said, ‘you’ll see.’ He pecked me on the cheek, said goodnight and then he was gone.

  I made my way up to my room, suddenly exhausted. No Wolf tonight – he was at Alex’s mum’s – but I felt confident that I wasn’t going to wake up crying in the dark.

  I steered clear of Poe’s gloomy tales before bedtime. On the way through the bookshop, I’d grabbed a copy of Anne of Green Gables and opted for a comfort read. After twenty-odd pages, I could feel my eyes drooping, so I switched off the light and hit the hay. But unlike the night before, sleep was hard to come by.

  My mind drifted back to dinner with Alex. He was definitely flirting with me. I didn’t imagine that, did I? And even more interestingly, why did the thought of Alex flirting make me feel suddenly breathless? Oh no, Daisy, you bloody idiot. I fancied Alex. Well duh! my subconscious said.

  Well, it wasn’t like it was going to go anywhere; I had enough on my plate already.

  I felt an unreasonable flash of guilt. Was I in danger of throwing myself at the first man that showed me a little bit of kindness? That was a recipe for disaster. Maybe a fling would have been okay, a way to even the score with Phil—if I had the temperament for it. But I knew myself too well. I knew I wouldn’t be able to disengage my emotions. No, Alex and I were destined to be friends and nothing more.

  I found myself thinking about Phil, our morning phone call and all its many implications. Apart from my little distraction at dinner, he had not been far from my mind all day.

  I tried recalling exactly what I’d seen, comparing it with Phil’s version of events. It lined up—sort of. But it could just as easily be bull. The only thing I could do was take him on trust. I would never have undeniable proof, so what else could I do but back him? If I loved Phil – which I still did – didn’t that mean giving him the benefit of the doubt?

  I didn’t have the answers yet, but at least I had a full month to decide. Right now, a month seemed like a lifetime.

  Nineteen

  I was woken not long after dawn by the incessant crowing of Rodney the Bookshop Rooster. I’d managed to sleep through the unholy racket the morning before due to sheer exhaustion. Alex had told me about Rodney last night while we were washing up, so at least it wasn’t too much of a shock.

  The damned bird had impeccable timing, waking me up right at the, ahem, “interesting part” of an extremely smutty dream featuring Ryan Gosling. Another bird I wouldn’t mind plucking.

  Rodney then waited just long enough for me to drift off again before letting rip with a series of rusty squawks that drilled through my nerves like a jackhammer. I swear it sounded as though the little git was crouched on my pillow, crowing directly into my ear. This went on for some time while I lay staring at the back of my eyelids, grinding my teeth and trying to go back to sleep.

  Ugh! I was never getting back to sleep. I threw the covers off, muttering about what I would like to do to Rodney with a stick of butter and a couple of onions.

  I checked my watch. I wasn’t needed for at least another couple of hours, when the bookshop opened. I wondered what to do until then. A little guiltily, I made for the bathroom and stood next to the empty tub. Although there’d been no mention of a water allowance, wasn’t I pushing it a bit? This would be my third soak already. No, I decided. After all, I was being paid in kind instead of receiving a proper salary. Persuaded – rather easily, it had to be said – by this argument, I turned on the hot tap and picked a new essential oil to try. Mm, this one smelt like Christmas.

  At half-eight, I made my way down to the main room of the bookshop. Janice was already behind the counter. At least, I guessed it was Janice. At any rate, an attractive woman in her early forties watched me with a welcoming smile as I ambled across the shop floor.

  ‘You must be Daisy,’ she said.

  ‘Reporting for duty.’

>   Janice smiled at this. ‘Right on time as well.’

  As I came alongside the counter, she pushed a mug over to me. ‘Here you go. I made you a brew.’

  ‘Thanks. Just what I needed.’ Then, to get off on the right foot, I made my apologies. ‘I’m sorry if you got dragged in here today because of me.’

  Janice waved it away. ‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘I love the bookshop. I’m going to miss it when I leave Upper Finlay.’

  ‘Alex said something about that.’

  Janice nodded. ‘My husband’s job. It’s taking us to the Gulf states. Given the pay rise, we could hardly say no.’

  I nodded, taking a first sip of tea.

  ‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘I’m only in here two days a week now, with things being what they are.’

  ‘Times are tough then?’ I asked.

  ‘Are they ever,’ Janice said soberly. ‘It’s why I was a bit surprised when Alex told me he’d taken on someone new.’

  ‘Ah well, you see I’m bartering my services for bed and gnocchi.’

  Janice laughed. ‘So I’ve heard. All very mysterious, I must say. Like something out of a Daphne du Maurier novel.’

  ‘That’s me—woman of mystery.’ I was rather enjoying the label, inaccurate though it was.

  ‘At first, I thought that maybe you and Alex were an item,’ Janice added. ‘That was my working theory, but then in this village I hardly see how he could have kept you a secret. Everyone knows everything around here.’

  ‘No, I’m not his latest squeeze,’ I said; then my curiosity got the better of me. ‘Is that something that’s happened before?’

  Janice nodded. ‘Back when Alex was still seeing Mandy, Trevor and Tina’s girl, she used to help out in the shop sometimes. Although that was a hell of a long time ago.’

  Hearing this, I was tempted to pry, wanting to learn more about Mandy and Alex’s past. I made a heroic effort and reined myself in.

  Janice smiled mischievously. ‘So you’d have a clear run at him, if that was something you were minded to do.’

  At this, I shook my head firmly. ‘Oh no. It’s nothing like that. It just seems a bit odd him being single, seeing as how he’s so…’

  I couldn’t think of a good way to finish the sentence.

  ‘So bloody hot?’ said Janice.

  ‘Is he? I really hadn’t noticed.’ This was such a bold-faced lie, that I couldn’t keep a straight face. We both cracked up. I could already tell I was going to like Janice.

  ‘The thing is I have a boyfriend,’ I said. ‘At least I think I do. Possibly even a fiancé.’

  Janice frowned. ‘That all sounds a bit vague.’

  Looking to change the subject, not wanting to go over it again, I put my hand on top of the cash till. ‘You’ll have to show me how this thing works. It’s been a while since my last job in retail.’

  ‘It’s easy,’ she said. ‘Not that there’s much call for it. We’re lucky to clock up a dozen sales a day.’

  ‘Really?’ I said. ‘So few?’

  ‘It’s only the café that turns anything like a profit. Without it, Alex really would be screwed.’

  ‘Then why close it this morning, do you think?’

  ‘I guess he has his reasons,’ Janice answered, looking away.

  I got the impression she had a fair idea what these reasons were, but I didn’t want to push it. Clearly, she was loyal to Alex and the bookshop and didn’t want to say any more.

  In the event, we clocked up eight sales that morning, which was pretty good going according to Janice.

  ‘You must be a lucky charm,’ she said.

  I laughed, remembering how Alex had said something similar. To be honest, I thought most of those sales were from people who had popped in to have a nose at the new girl and then bought a random book to cover their tracks.

  ‘Right,’ she said. ‘You can have your lunch break now. Take an hour. Take more than an hour. There’s no great need to hurry back.’

  ‘I’m thinking I should skip it,’ I said. ‘I’ve been piling the calories on ever since I got here.’

  ‘That’s up to you. But go and stretch your legs at least.’

  ‘Funny you should say that; I was actually thinking about going for a jog,’ I said. ‘It seems like a good time to take it up again, with all these hills and dales on the doorstep.’

  ‘Go for it,’ Janice said. ‘There’re some great trails all around the village. I’d start with the footpath at the back of the bookshop if I was you.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I’ve only worked one morning, and here I am skiving off in the middle of the day.’

  ‘Go on,’ said Janice. ‘I’ll soldier on without you.’

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘I’m bloody positive.’

  ‘Okay then. I’ll see you in a bit.’

  Twenty

  Upstairs, I changed into the frankly laughable running gear I’d picked up from TCFCTSI yesterday. For a sports-based charity shop, they hadn’t had much apparel to choose from. The best I could manage consisted of a pair of extremely short shorts, an ancient T-shirt with Mickey Mouse on the front and a pair of bright neon trainers. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about getting hit by a car.

  ‘Right,’ I said, brushing my hands together symbolically and talking in a falsely bright voice. ‘Time to stop festering and moping. Daisy, old gal, you are going for a jog.’

  I swept my hair back into a messy bun, made a half-hearted stab at some warm-up exercises and went downstairs, hoping not to bump into anyone in my outrageous get-up.

  Sneaking out the back door, through the kitchen, I followed Janice’s directions and took a footpath that led off to the right, running parallel with the old canal. In only a few minutes I was scrambling over a stile and into a fallow field, surrounded on all sides by spectacular countryside. The fields were a patchwork of shimmering yellow and green. A tractor trundled happily in the distance, disturbing a flock of birds that burst up into the picture-perfect sky.

  As I headed towards a forest, a few hundred yards ahead of me, I found myself reflecting on something Alex had said the previous night: I’d better go and get my beauty sleep. Some of us need more of it than you. I supposed he was just being friendly, but even so, it put a smile on my face.

  Still, he’d suggested that I was attractive, even mysterious. This was not a commonly held view—that I had hidden depths; that there was more to Daisy Monroe than met the eye.

  What Phil liked most about me, I think, was the fact I wasn’t full of surprises. Compliant, I think would be the word. Ugh, is that who I wanted to be?

  Anyway, I’d sprung a bloody great surprise on Phil this time, hadn’t I? With that spiel about a job in Derbyshire and a stay at a luxury hotel. What a load of old cobblers and he’d swallowed it hook, line and sinker. I’d surprised myself, truth be told. But I rather liked this new side to my character. Daisy Monroe, woman of mystery. Standing up to Phil, haggling with snooty shopkeepers. Flirting with hunky bookstore owners!

  I was standing at the foot of a long, grassy slope, breathing heavily from my exertions. I put my hand on my knees. I had gotten pretty out of shape. Next to me, a soft whinny and a pretty velvet nose nudged my shoulder. I leapt back then laughed when I saw it was a chocolate-brown horse with large, expressive eyes. She was munching a mouthful of grass. I tentatively patted her nose as she leaned over the fence.

  ‘Hello,’ I said, distracted for a moment. I had never petted a horse before. And my hand was ready to be snatched back in case she bit.

  After a while, she seemed to realise I had nothing for her. She blew a huff of air at me and trotted away. I suddenly realised that I could hear nothing at all other than birdsong and the faint hum of a tractor in the field opposite.

  I decided to turn back for the bookshop, not wanting to take
liberties, even though Janice had said it was okay. I’d only been gone a half-hour, but I still needed to shower and change my outfit.

  Arriving at the back door, I pulled it open, expecting to pass through the kitchen unnoticed. Instead I ran into Alex. Literally ran into him. Flattening him against the wall in one fell swoop.

  Stepping away, completely mortified, I saw that I’d made a large sweaty mark on his T-shirt. I brought a hand up to my mouth.

  ‘Alex. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there,’ I said.

  Alex looked down at his T-shirt and then back up at me. ‘I think you may have just ruined my look.’

  ‘Oh, don’t say that!’

  A smile broke over his face, followed by the same infectious laugh I’d heard yesterday and the day before that.

  ‘Come on, Daisy! I’m joking! Look at me, will you…’

  He was in his scruffs—grey jogging bottoms and a tight, white T-shirt. His hair was sticking up at all angles like he had been raking his fingers through it. Bed hair. Oh boy.

  Still, for all of that, I had him beaten in terms of dishevelment. A hot sweaty mess in a Disney themed T-shirt and a pair of too-short shorts.

  ‘I’ve been for a run,’ I said, stating the bleeding obvious. I tugged at the shorts feeling self-conscious about all the flesh that was currently on display. Alex didn’t seem to mind. I rather suspected he was enjoying the view. ‘I’m on my lunch break. Janice said that would be okay,’ I said hurriedly, hoping he didn’t think I was slacking off. ‘I thought I better try to burn a few of those calories off.’ I looked down at the shorts’ stretchy elastic. ‘I think I must have burned about three.’

  ‘You look pretty good to me,’ Alex said. ‘Gorgeous. Smart. Funny. And a great dresser too!’

  I swatted him. ‘Ha, ha.’

  ‘You’re not one of those beautiful women who like to pretend they’re actually quite plain, are you?’ he said, rolling his eyes. There he went, flattering me again.

  I snorted. ‘Yeah right, that’s me, Daisy Monroe, supermodel.’

  Alex chuckled. ‘Well, I think so.’