Daisy Does it Herself

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Daisy Does it Herself Page 13

by Gracie Player


  ‘I led you on.’

  He took my hand and I flinched. ‘Sorry,’ he said and dropped it, running his hands through his hair again.

  ‘I, I can’t lie. I like you. I think I’ve made that pretty clear. I’m just really sorry I put you in an awkward position last night.’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘it wasn’t your fault. I should have been clearer with where I’m at.’

  ‘We’re adults, we flirted a bit,’ he said. I blushed. ‘But Daisy, this is not your fault. You can’t make someone want to be with you if they don’t. I hope you know I would never pressure you into anything. This is your home for as long as you want it. My pride’s a little dented, but I’m a big boy, I’ll get over it.

  Unless…’ He looked at me, his expression serious. Unless, what? I thought. Unless what! My cheeks flushed. His mouth curved upwards when he noticed. Dammit, why does my every thought have to be scrawled across my face?

  ‘I’ll take you as just a friend, Daisy. But if you ever change your mind,’ he said lightly and shrugged. The bell rang, breaking the moment. I looked down, my mind whirling. Why was it so difficult to cut my feelings for Alex off? When I looked back up, he was chatting to a customer. The bell rang again and a gaggle of young mums with kids entered. The kids began to swarm over the shop.

  One of the yummy mummies – an attractive twenty-something – stopped at the counter to ask Alex a question. She wound a piece of hair around one finger and snapped her gum. Looking at Alex as though she’d liked to spoon him up and eat him alive.

  Feeling an unreasonable flash of jealousy, I turned away and busied myself sorting through a collection of books about the American Civil War. I had to stop this. Alex could talk to, and do, whatever he liked, with whoever he liked. I’d given him my answer. It wasn’t fair to him to keep this up, nor was it right. I was probably going to be engaged in a couple of weeks. I’d never cheated on Phil and I didn’t plan to start now. It would be the worst possible way to kick off our new beginning.

  The woman purchased a postcard from the counter and Alex went around to hold the door open so she could manoeuvre the bulky buggy through. The baby gurgled at Alex and he knelt to chuck its cheek. Gad dammit, he looked like one of those men from the Athena posters in the nineties. Not fair!

  The woman left with a swish and Alex came back over to me. Before, there would have been easy chatter between us. Now there was awkward silence. To fill it, I started to talk.

  ‘Well, I’ve got a busy day ahead.’

  ‘Oh? I thought you had the morning off?’

  ‘The website,’ I said. ‘No time like the present. I want to get cracking.’

  ‘Oh right. The website.’ It had clearly slipped Alex’s mind amidst all the drama, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me.

  ‘First things first, I’ll need a laptop. You said Joe had one he could lend me?’

  ‘Of course. I’ll give him a call. I can have that here by mid-morning.’

  ‘Excellent,’ I nodded.

  Alex nodded back. There was another protracted silence.

  ‘So…I was thinking, if you don’t mind, whenever it’s quiet in the bookshop, I can work on the website. I’ll have the laptop with me at the counter, so I can always switch between the two.’

  ‘Sure, whatever you think.’

  I was disappointed that Alex didn’t seem more enthusiastic. He was probably still embarrassed about yesterday, so I didn’t push it.

  ‘I’ve got to take Wolf out for a walk,’ he said, ‘so I guess I’ll see you later?’

  ‘Okay,’ I said glumly.

  He smiled then, looking more like his usual self.

  As he left that simple word from before – unless – hung tense and unanswered between us.

  Twenty-Seven

  Joe arrived at the bookshop around ten-thirty with a laptop tucked under one arm. He laid it on top of the counter.

  ‘Here you go. I hope it’ll do.’

  ‘Looks good,’ I said. ‘What are the specs?’

  ‘Specs?’

  Clearly Joe wasn’t any more computer literate than his brother.

  ‘You know – memory size, processor, stuff like that.’

  ‘It works with the internet,’ Joe said helpfully.

  I had to smile. ‘Okay. That’s something at least.’

  Joe turned to leave, then he changed his mind. ‘Do you know what’s up with Alex today?’

  I shook my head, attempting a puzzled look. ‘No. Why?’

  ‘I don’t know, he seemed a little off when I spoke to him earlier. I know you two have gotten pretty close. I just wondered if you knew what was bothering him. Alex isn’t the best at talking about his problems. So sometimes we have to pry.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I can help.’

  Joe shrugged. ‘I know you guys talk,’ he said, ‘that’s a help in itself. I just…we’re friends, too right?’

  I nodded, realising it was true.

  ‘I know you’re leaving at the end of the month.’

  ‘That’s the plan.’

  Joe ran a distracted hand through his hair in a way that was instantly familiar.

  ‘I can see how you two look at each other. The way you look at him when you think no one notices.’

  Oh boy.

  ‘Just be careful with my brother’s heart,’ he said. ‘Don’t hurt him.’

  ‘I won’t,’ I whispered, my eyes stinging. ‘I promise.’ Joe squeezed my hand.

  ‘Alex is a great guy you know.’

  I knew.

  ‘Well, good luck with the website. I hope the laptop works out.’

  I nodded, afraid my voice would crack if I tried to speak. He squeezed my hand again and left.

  I didn’t see Alex for the rest of the day. He was often on the road, driving out to look at book collections and private libraries to buy stock. But usually he would pop into the shop at some point, or be on the grounds somewhere fixing, moving or painting one thing or another. It felt like he was always on the go. He worked hard that was for sure. There was always some event, class or side hustle going on in one of the bookshop’s many rooms. I swear I saw a group with Katana swords troop upstairs once. I thought it best not to ask, and I never saw them again.

  My favourite days were the ones when Alex worked in the shop. We sometimes sat on the floor, surrounded by boxes and boxes of books, sorting through stock, chatting easily. Every so often his eyes would light up as he showed me a copy of something interesting or funny.

  Even though he had said things were fine between us, I hoped his absence today didn’t mean he was avoiding me. I missed him. Although I didn’t miss the butterflies I got every time I entered a room, wondering if he would be in it. No. Those were involuntary, and unwanted.

  After closing the shop, I slouched into the kitchen to fix myself something to eat. The space felt hollow and empty without Alex’s presence. Thinking I could cobble together a sandwich or heat up some leftovers, I opened the fridge.

  Inside was a pot of something gooey and delicious looking. A little card was attached with my name written on it. I turned the card over. Tiramisu, your favourite x.

  I’d told Alex that in passing and had thought nothing more of it. I shook my head, feeling a bit tearful. ‘Oh, Alex. What am I going to do about you?’

  Twenty-Eight

  Using Rodney as my alarm clock, I got up well before my shift in the bookshop started. I went for my morning run, showered, then booted up Joe’s laptop.

  Waking so early every morning – thanks to Rodney – gave me plenty of time to brood. And by brood, I mean of course, relentlessly checking Phil’s status on Facebook.

  I navigated to his page, annoyed with myself even as I did it. It was like a compulsion. Much as I wanted to be a strong, independent woman in the vein of Destiny’s Child, app
arently, I was not.

  I scoured the page for any sign of Frannie. But she was conspicuously absent. This was a good sign; normally she was all over Phil’s feed like a rash.

  I glanced again at the most recent photo. In it, Phil was standing outside the gleaming windows of a high-end jewellers. He had one thumb up and was grinning ear-to-ear, like an extremely well-groomed Cheshire cat. Another picture showed a display case packed with stunning diamond rings.

  The first comment was from Seb, Frannie’s husband: Something you want to tell us old chap?

  Underneath that, Phil had offered a winking emoticon and a highly suggestive comment: Watch this space…

  My heart started beating wildly. When he’d spoken about us taking the next step, deep down I’d wondered if he was spinning me a line. Trying to limit the immediate damage. But it looked as though he was deadly serious, had maybe even gone ahead and bought the ring.

  Okay, so perhaps it wasn’t romantic in the traditional sense – him dropping hints on Facebook, but that was just his way. Phil was one of those, look how great my life is, I bet it’s better than yours, type of people who needed to broadcast whatever he was up to for the whole world to admire. I’d lost count of the amount of retakes and filters it had taken over the years to achieve that effect.

  And yet for all his faults, even his – maybe – infidelity, I missed Phil. I missed our life together. I was used to seeing him every morning when I woke. Used to the subtle routine you develop when you share a life with someone. In spite of myself, I was excited to think that our relationship was about to become a matter of record. There was no bigger statement you could make than marrying someone. It proved he loved me…right?

  I looked at the time. Oh shoot, I’d meant to make a start on the website, but I’d wasted yet another morning fretting over bloody Phil.

  Two hours into my shift and still no sign of Alex. I’d only had one visitor so far this morning: Terry, a gruff Yorkshire man, who’d been the landlord of the Nelson pub until he retired ten years ago. Now he created beautiful miniature oil paintings of the Derbyshire countryside, which Alex sold in the shop for a healthy profit.

  I chatted with Terry for a while before he left me with three sublime renditions of the sweeping green hills of the Hope Valley.

  Auntie Lou popped in later and we spent a happy hour hunting down a collection of Jackie Collins bonkbusters for her to consider. After an in-depth discussion, bordering on the academic, about which was the raunchiest, she decided to go with The Stud.

  With all my jobs for the day done and no more customers on the horizon, I opened the laptop again, determined to make a proper start on Alex’s website.

  I took out my mock-up of how each page on the website would look. Then I created a plan of everything I needed to do and broke that down into manageable chunks. Once I had my plan fully formed, I opened up my text editor and started to code.

  Before I knew it, I found myself in the zone, neat, elegant lines of code flowing from my brain to my fingertips, and then on into reality. My brain turning over solutions as quickly as I could type.

  ‘What ya doing, Daisy – writing a novel?’

  I jumped surprised to find Janice standing in front of me leaning over the counter. I stared at the bell above the door. ‘Is that not working?’

  ‘It’s working fine,’ Janice answered. ‘You were off in la-la land, or wherever it was you just went.’

  ‘Coding heaven,’ I said, smiling at her.

  ‘Right. Coding heaven.’ Janice pulled a face, ‘I think I’ll stick to regular heaven.’

  ‘I’m building a website for the bookshop,’ I explained.

  At this Janice nodded approvingly. ‘Bloody brilliant,’ she said. ‘I told Alex yonks ago he needs to pull his finger out and bring this place up to date.’

  ‘Well, hopefully this is a step in the right direction,’ I said.

  ‘So, you’re a computer whizz? Hidden talents, I see.’

  ‘Very hidden,’ I said. ‘Trust me.’

  ‘Don’t put yourself down, love. There’s plenty of others who can do that for you.’

  ‘That’s for sure. Anyway, I didn’t think you were in today,’ I said.

  ‘Boredom,’ Janice said. ‘Sheer bloody boredom. So I thought I’d pop in for a natter.’

  ‘Natter away,’ I said.

  Janice nodded. ‘Fancy a brew?’

  ‘A cup of tea would be lovely, thanks Jan.’

  A short while later, Janice returned from the kitchen with a steaming mug in either hand. ‘You two had a tiff then, have you?’ she said.

  I tried acting the innocent. ‘Which two?’

  ‘You and Alex.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  Janice shrugged. ‘I saw him in the village earlier. He went all coy when I asked him how you were. I’ve been around the block a time or two, Daisy love.’

  This explained Janice popping in for a natter. She was fishing! I picked up my mug and took a sip, stalling for time. As I did so, Alex peered around the door, looking a little nervous.

  ‘Speak of the devil,’ said Janice.

  ‘You were talking about me?’ Alex looked alarmed.

  ‘Only nice things,’ Janice said, taking pity on him.

  ‘Oh. Right. Okay.’

  ‘So what can we do for you, boss?’

  ‘Erm, I was hoping I might have a word with Daisy.’

  Janice nodded on my behalf. ‘I think that would be okay.’

  Clearly, he wanted a private chat, but Janice remained welded to her chair. She might as well have been holding a bucket of popcorn.

  Alex scowled at Janice. She dunked her biscuit in her cup of tea and gave it a good swirl.

  ‘Spit it out, lad.’

  ‘Um well, Daisy, actually I was wondering…Um, I’ve got a night off tonight. In the spirit of being friends and all that, I wondered if you wanted to pop over to mine for some dinner?’

  Janice smirked.

  Bad idea, I thought, being alone with Alex all evening. At night, drinking wine.

  ‘That sounds fun,’ I said brightly.

  Twenty-Nine

  Alex held open the door and I clambered into the front seat of his white van. Wolf sat beside me, his head hanging out the window, tongue lolling.

  We drove down a winding country lane lined with hedgerows and ancient, crumbling dry-stone walls. All around us were high, densely wooded hills and craggy peaks. The road was dappled with pooling shadows in the gathering dusk, the air perfumed with flowers.

  ‘It’s so beautiful here,’ I said.

  ‘It sure is,’ Alex said, glancing over at me. We locked eyes. There it was again, that crackle of electricity.

  ‘Eyes on the road,’ I gently chided, and dear God, Alex blushed. I felt a rush of goddess-like sexual power.

  ‘Sorry,’ Alex said, ‘last time, I promise. Scouts honour.’ He made the sign.

  ‘Hands on the wheel!’ I shouted and just like that we were laughing again.

  ‘Well, here we are.’

  Surrounded by rolling hills, the cottage was picture perfect. I laughed delightedly. ‘Okay, now I see why you wanted to join the property owning classes.’

  ‘You like it?’

  ‘I really do.’

  ‘Still needs plenty doing to it, of course. She’s a bit of a fixer-upper. It helps that I can do most of the work myself.’

  God, that was hot. I had trouble changing a lightbulb.

  We crunched up the gravel path, Wolf bounding ahead of us. Alex unlocked the door and we stepped inside. Wow. The whole cottage was open plan with polished wooden floors and exposed oak beams stretching across the high ceilings. The modern kitchen had black granite tiles and an island counter. At the far end were sofas and a cosy looking living area.

  There w
ere still signs of ongoing work; one wall was half painted, with a protective tarp under it, and what looked like a gorgeous real brick fireplace was being slowly revealed from under ugly plaster. There were several large stacks of books and Xbox games on the floor and no shelves yet to house them.

  ‘Well, this is home,’ Alex said.

  I drifted into the kitchen pulled by cinnamon strings. The cottage smelt divine.

  ‘Have you been baking again?’

  ‘I have. Want to lick the bowl?’

  ‘Um…yes.’ He held out the spoon. I took it and slid it in my mouth, suddenly overwhelmed by bittersweet dark chocolate. I closed my eyes.

  ‘Oh my God, that’s good,’ I said, licking my lips. Alex cleared his throat.

  ‘I thought it might be nice to eat outside,’ he said. ‘Maybe fire up the grill. I’ve got some steaks we could throw on. Maybe a nice glass of red to go with it.’

  ‘Yes please,’ I said.

  He laughed. ‘There’s a couple of bottles over there in the rack. Choose one you like.’

  Honestly, I couldn’t tell the difference when it came to wine. I picked the one with the fanciest label.

  ‘Good choice,’ Alex said.

  Alex turned to an old record player. He lifted the needle and set it in the groove. A pause and a song crackled into life.

  ‘Vinyl?’ I asked.

  ‘It was my dad’s. Another sign that I’m behind the times. To be honest, I used to try and impress girls with it at uni.’

  ‘Did it work?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Where did you go to university?’

  ‘Durham,’ he said. ‘I majored in Engineering, then I moved back to Derby after and got a job at Rolls Royce.’

  ‘Fancy,’ I said.

  ‘When Dad passed away, I came back to Upper Finlay and took over the bookshop.’

  ‘That must have been a difficult decision.’

  ‘Well, I was earning good money, but it wasn’t exactly my calling in life.’

 

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