Sunshine at Daisy's Guesthouse

by Lottie Phillips

  ‘Who’s that?’ She suddenly felt like an intruder in the house, and sat bolt upright. She knew she looked a mess so if James appeared she would probably die of mortification before she had even had the chance to have eggs implanted.

  Tom, the worst guard dog on planet Earth, stood behind Daisy. ‘I don’t know, doll, but if it’s James I haven’t done my ablutions yet.’

  ‘That makes two of us,’ Daisy said drily and together they waited instead of searching out their visitor.

  Moments later, Annabelle appeared in the kitchen doorway, her cheek a marbled effect of purples and reds.

  ‘Good God.’ Daisy stood straight away and rushed to Annabelle’s side. She was pale and trembling.

  ‘Who did this to you?’ Daisy demanded to know. ‘Did James…’

  Annabelle sniffled and allowed herself to be ushered to a kitchen chair by Tom. ‘No, not James. Why would it have been James?’

  ‘Well, you’ve been on holiday with him for the last three weeks or so, haven’t you?’ Daisy furrowed her brows. ‘Haven’t you?’

  ‘No.’ Annabelle accepted a tissue from Tom. ‘I never went away with James. He has gone out to his place in the south of France and he left me here.’ She shook her head, a tear trickling over her lip line. ‘I thought I would go back to my husband, try and make things work, but from the moment I got back it went wrong.’

  ‘Oh, Annabelle,’ Daisy breathed, sitting next to her with Tom on the other side. ‘Tell us.’

  ‘Well, I walked back in on him and Petra, our nanny, halway up the stairs. She was…’ Annabelle couldn’t find the words and Daisy shushed her.

  ‘You don’t need to explain to us, we understand.’

  Annabelle choked back another sob. ‘I mean what was more galling is I always thought he didn’t like women with curves and she is a proper woman. You know what I mean?’

  ‘Yes,’ Daisy said. ‘I know very well.’

  ‘Yes, exactly, like you… the sort my mother called good child-bearing… oh shit, sorry.’

  Daisy’s sympathy began to wane but the more she looked at the welt on her cheek, the more she knew that even Annabelle deserved to be treated better than this.

  ‘Go on…’ Daisy encouraged, pushing away the images of her as an oversized St Bernard sat next to Annabelle, the Chihuahua.

  ‘Well, he actually fired Petra and I thought he might respect me but how wrong I was…’ She took a deep breath. ‘He doesn’t respect me at all, he then met up with her in hotels and has even asked her to marry him.’

  ‘What?’ shrieked Tom. ‘That’s poly whatsit!’

  ‘Polygamy.’ Annabelle nodded. ‘Yes. Anyway, I just went to the hotel where I found out he was staying for a—’ she did quote marks in the air ‘—business trip. Well, even the staff at the desk tried to stop me. He probably paid them to stop me if I turned up but I was determined.’ She snorted bitterly. ‘It was easy actually to get past them, I just pretended to be room service.’

  ‘What did you see?’

  Annabelle shuddered. ‘I saw him, Petra and another of our old nannies laying on the bed smoking some sort of joints, completely out of their brains.’ She shook her head. ‘In fact, my husband was so out of his brains, it took him a good minute to realise I was stood over him. When he did, he panicked and pushed me out of the way to get to the bathroom to hide. I tumbled into the table and…’ She indicated her face. ‘And here’s the result.’

  ‘And this all just happened?’ Daisy asked.

  Annabelle nodded. ‘Just now.’ She took a long laboured breath. ‘I was so shaken I didn’t know where to go and I knew I had a key to James’s apartment so it seemed the obvious place to sort my head out a bit …’ She paused. ‘But I didn’t expect to find either of you here. I was kind of hoping James would be here.’

  Daisy narrowed her eyes. ‘Why isn’t James here with you? Or why aren’t you there with James?’ She frowned. ‘Last time I saw you, you seemed very much in love.’

  Annabelle’s lower lip trembled. ‘What? When you came here and I was sat out there…’ She pointed to the hall.

  ‘Yes,’ Daisy nodded. ‘Wearing a towel. I think James had popped out for a takeaway or something.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Annabelle blushed ever so slightly. ‘I remember now. I might have had a glass of wine before I spoke to you…’

  ‘A glass?’ Daisy looked at her.

  ‘OK, maybe more than one.’ She held her hands up. ‘Fine, I was plastered, is that what you want to hear?’

  ‘No, Annabelle…’

  ‘I was plastered, and after you left, he gave me a hard time about much I had drunk.’

  ‘He gave you a hard time?’ Not the post-sex cosy takeaway she had initially thought.

  ‘Yes. And now he’s at some tourism conference in France to try and get people to go to your little guesthouse.’ Annabelle tried not to pull a face but Daisy caught her look of bitterness.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Daisy was confused. ‘I thought he was on holiday. Well, actually, I thought he was on holiday with you.’

  Annabelle pouted. ‘He’s been at this bloody conference in France touting your bloody guesthouse. When he quite clearly could have been spending time with me and helping me through my difficult time.’

  Daisy felt a lump in her throat and tried to push down the sudden tide of emotion. He had been away helping sell the guesthouse abroad. She couldn’t believe it.

  ‘But why didn’t he tell me? Tell us?’ Daisy pulled her dressing gown cord tighter around her waist. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘He thinks you’re dating Alistair, that the guesthouse was the last thing on your mind.’

  Daisy remembered that she had in fact told Annabelle she was dating him.

  ‘I’m not actually with Alistair, after all.’

  Tom grinned. ‘No, that man is long gone.’

  ‘Oh,’ Annabelle said, clearly befuddled.

  ‘So you’re not staying in London to be near Alistair when he does business down here?’ She pushed her hand through her perfectly highlighted hair. Daisy mimicked her gesture and put her hand through her slightly greasy, with the odd grey coming through, bob.

  ‘No.’ Daisy shook her head.

  ‘Then why are you here?’

  ‘Because Daisy is going to have a baby,’ Tom announced proudly. ‘And she’s asked me to be godfather.’

  ‘Well—’ Daisy shot Tom a hard look ‘—not quite.’

  ‘A baby?’ A smile toyed at the edges of Annabelle’s mouth. ‘Not being funny, darling, but don’t you need a man for that?’ She gasped. ‘Unless Tom? Are you?’

  ‘What? Going to have sex with Daisy?’ He smiled broadly. ‘Bloody hell, no. That’s like doing it with your sister.’

  ‘Then how?’ Annabelle arched a brow. ‘Are you in London scouting out a man?’

  ‘She’s having her eggs planted today.’

  ‘Tom,’ Daisy warned.

  ‘Oh sorry!’ Tom looked momentarily abashed; but only momentarily, he was actually loving the sensationalism.

  ‘IVF!’ Annabelle screeched. ‘Wow. And the father? A random sperm donor?’

  ‘No.’ Tom dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Hugh. That’s Daisy’s dead husband.’

  Daisy rolled her eyes. Tom: Mr Say It As It Is.

  ‘Well, how come?’ Annabelle face twisted with even more confusion. ‘I mean, if he’s dead…’

  ‘He froze his sperm.’ Tom left his mouth aghast to add to the effect, his eyes wide, checking he was creating the right amount of atmosphere.

  ‘Um, I am right here,’ Daisy reminded them both. ‘Maybe just talk to me.’

  Annabelle ignored Daisy and said, ‘So Daisy will be a single mother?’

  ‘Yes.’ Tom nodded defiantly. ‘Single.’ He flipped his hand and said, ‘There you go, better than an Eastenders boom-boom-titty-titty, don’t you think?’

  ‘Um guys, still in the room,’ Daisy pointed out. She looked at the kitchen cl
ock. ‘Right, speaking of, I need to go and get ready.’

  ‘When do you head home?’ Annabelle asked.

  ‘Tomorrow. It’s just a waiting game after that.’

  ‘Right, well James is due back in a couple of days.’ Annabelle smirked. ‘Shame you’ll just miss each other.’

  ‘Yes.’ Daisy turned to head to the bedroom pushing down the need to rearrange the smirk on her face. ‘I’m sure James will help you with your problems.’

  Daisy looked back at Annabelle whose lips were trembling. ‘No, he won’t. He’s bloody in love with you, isn’t he?’ She slumped in her chair, her chin dipped towards her chest. ‘I actually knew you were no longer with Alistair. I saw it on Facebook and thought about telling James but I knew if he found that out he would go running back to the guesthouse.’

  ‘What?’ Daisy couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  ‘He wanted to convince you to not be with Alistair.’ She looked at Daisy and, for the first time, Daisy saw genuine sorrow. ‘I tried to kiss him after you left that night a few weeks ago but he told me to leave, to go and sort out my marriage.’ She lowered her eyes. ‘The next morning, I did just that, like I told you.’ She pointed to the bruising on her cheek. ‘It didn’t end well.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this now?’ Daisy wished she was having this conversation dressed and with make-up on. Instead she suddenly felt very naked, very vulnerable.

  Annabelle let more tears flow down her cheeks. ‘Because I have come to terms with the fact that I was using James as a way out of my marriage but…’ She swallowed noticeably. Bbut he loves you.’ She gave a small smile. ‘He loves you so much. He never stops talking about you and the night you were here, when we thought you were dating Alistair, he sat in the sitting room drinking and crying.’ She blew air through her mouth in a long, drawn out sigh. ‘Honest to God, he was beside himself.’

  Daisy’s legs had gone weak. She leant against the kitchen door to steady herself. ‘Hugh kept telling me in his letters and cards but I didn’t believe him once I saw you here, in his apartment. I thought Hugh must’ve been mistaken.’

  ‘Do you love him?’ Annabelle asked quietly.

  Tom had sat down, watching their conversation like a Shakespearean play.

  Daisy’s eyes welled up. ‘I know that when your husband dies, people expect you to grieve for the longest time and to not love again. Or, at least, that’s what I thought people wanted. Then I realised I had to do what I needed to do, that if my heart was falling for another man, maybe I couldn’t control it. Maybe it was meant to be.

  Then in his dying days, Hugh and James had talked. Hugh had realised these deep emotions that ran between her and James and he could have ignored it. He could have died with that knowledge.

  You know Hugh, in his letters and cards, made me realise how much I love James but I was not willing to admit my feelings. My own husband wanted me to love again.’

  Annabelle rose from the chair and very tenderly took Daisy in her arms. ‘You deserve to be happy, Daisy. I am a cow.’ She snorted with a self-conscious laugh. ‘I tried to get in the way of your happiness because I was unhappy in my own marriage.’

  Daisy stroked her back. ‘Well, we are all human. I have said some pretty awful things to you, too.’

  Tom perked up. ‘God, yeah, the Chihuahua conversation…’

  ‘Thank you, Tom, for reminding us,’ Daisy said drily. Then a thought occurred to her and she pulled away from Annabelle. ‘What if James wouldn’t love me if I was pregnant?’

  ‘With Hugh’s child.’ Annabelle pulled a face.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘My advice,’ said Tom, serious for the first time, ‘would be not to let a man get in the way of what you want.’

  ‘But it would be Hugh’s, that could be strange for him.’

  ‘Honey, that’s what any man you meet will have to face but at the end of the day, it’ll be your child and if they love you then they will love him or her.’ Tom waved his hands in front of his eyes. ‘God, making myself cry now.’ He got up and took Daisy’s hand. ‘Come on, you never let a man stand in the way of anything. If he loves you, he accepts all of you.’ He looked at Annabelle. ‘Something I should have learnt a long time ago, sweeties.’

  Two hours later, she was back in the clinic. Tom and Daisy felt so at home there now, they were on first-name terms with all the staff and even knew how the receptionist liked her coffee.

  Dr Neilson came out to greet her, smiling broadly. He led her to his office, Tom by her side. ‘Good news, I think we have two successful pre-embryos and I think, as advised before, it would be best to plant both of them because of your age and the risks.’

  Daisy’s hands had grown sweaty, she felt a bit faint. After three weeks of switching off to the monotony of constant check-ups, the time had come and she was nervous.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Dr Neilson asked as his eyes filled with concern.

  ‘Yes,’ Daisy assured him. ‘Just realised how real it is.’ She laughed softly. ‘I know that must sound so silly.’

  ‘Not at all.’ He shook his head. ‘It sounds very normal.’

  Three hours later, they were heading back to James’s apartment, and despite not having had any anaesthesia Daisy felt sleepy. She kept her hand on her tummy as if to protect what might be happening inside her.

  Tom fussed and cared for her, not allowing her to lift a finger.

  ‘What would you like to eat? Drink?’ He bowed. ‘Your wish is my command.’

  She laughed. ‘Oh, kind sir, I would give my right arm for fish and chips.’

  ‘Fish and chips.’ He nodded solemnly. ‘A fine choice. I shall run to the chip shop straight away!’

  Daisy laughed as he gathered his man-bag and coat. ‘Thank you, fine sir.’

  She lay back on the sofa, resting her eyes and heard the door open and shut. Moments later, she heard a key in the lock again.

  ‘Did you forget something, Jeeves?’ she said, her eyes still closed. When he didn’t answer, she looked up, confused. She could have sworn she’d heard the door again. Then, suddenly, there he was. James. He stood in the doorway and smiled tentatively at her.

  ‘I didn’t know if you’d still be here.’

  ‘Yes, sorry.’ She sat upright, feeling oddly nervous. ‘We’ve been here for the last three weeks. We’ll obviously give you money for electricity, water and, oh, we have broken a couple of plates and glasses…’ She pulled a face. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Stop saying sorry,’ James said softly. ‘It’s just nice to see you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Have you managed to spend time with Alistair? And have some fun?’

  She kneaded her skirt and dropped her gaze. ‘I’m not dating Alistair.’

  ‘What?’ His face reflected confusion then pain before lighting up. ‘You’re not?’

  ‘No, I never really was,’ Daisy admitted. ‘Well, I was but it was all a bit desperate really. As you might have said.’ She thought of the evening with Alistair’s friends in the pub. ‘In fact, it was incredibly surreal.’

  ‘Wow.’ He pushed his hand through his hair, ‘I’ve been…’ He searched for the word. ‘I’ve been so miserable, Daisy.’

  She stood now, her heart racing. There was a huge part of her willing herself to run to him, for him to hold her. But she stayed where she was.

  ‘Why did you tell everyone you were with him?’

  ‘I was, for a few hours…’ She gazed intently at him. ‘When I came here, that night…’

  ‘To collect my post?’ He laughed.

  ‘Yes.’ She smiled. ‘To collect your post, I came to tell you I wasn’t and then I saw Annabelle and she made out that you two…’

  He jerked his head back. ‘That us two… what?’

  ‘That you were, you know, together.’

  He laughed sharply. ‘Together? I have spent hours, days now, telling her to leave me alone and to sort out her own marriage.’

  ‘Wow.’ Daisy shook her head gently. ‘I f
ound the key, you know.’

  He gave a small gasp. ‘What, to the box in Hugh’s office?’

  ‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘I found his last letter and I found the certificate from the clinic.’

  ‘Oh, OK.’ He nodded, trying to take that in.

  ‘Were you going to show me those last two?’

  He remained silent. ‘Honest answer?’

  She nodded, her stomach turning.

  ‘Honest answer is when I heard you were with Alistair, I decided not to but then, later, when in France, I thought I should at least show you the letter.’

  She moved a step closer to him. ‘But you couldn’t have shown me one without the other.’

  He nodded, his tongue moving nervously around his teeth. ‘I know, so you’re right, in the end, I wasn’t going to show you either.’

  Daisy turned from him, a sob escaped her lips and her shoulders rose and fell as further sobs racked her body. ‘You too?’ She laughed bitterly. ‘You, as well as Hugh, keep trying to dictate life. Life doesn’t work like that, not if you love someone. If you love someone, you let them choose their own journey, you don’t tell them which direction to take.’ She moved herself so she faced him once again. ‘Even if you think their choices might be wrong, people are put on this earth to make their own mistakes. But, then again, maybe nothing is a mistake.’ She voluntarily moved her hand over her tummy, aware now of what was potentially happening inside of her.

  ‘It’s just that I love you, Daisy.’

  She looked up. It was the first time he had used those three words. Her heart lifted but then she wondered if she wanted a man who, like Hugh, would perhaps obstruct her path to being a mother? She didn’t know who she could trust anymore.

  Tom’s keys jiggled in the lock and he burst in.

  ‘Madame, your fish and chips.’ He walked into the sitting room, a white plastic bag with greasy paper goods steaming inside. On seeing James, he smiled. ‘Oh hello, big boy.’

  James smiled tersely at him. ‘Hi, Tom.’

  ‘Am I interrupting something?’ Tom looked from one to the other and shuffled backward. ‘You know what, I’m going to pop these in the oven to keep them warm. Let me know if you need anything.’

  Daisy smiled gratefully at him. ‘Thanks, Tom.’