Staying at Daisy's

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Staying at Daisy's Page 37

by Jill Mansell


  ‘Really?’ Tara was desperate for reassurance—lots of reassurance. ‘Not mad at all? You’re sure she doesn’t mind?’

  ‘She truly doesn’t mind. I told you, we weren’t a real couple,’ said Josh. ‘We were pretending to each other that everything was great, but we both knew it wasn’t. When I went to Austria, you were the one I missed,’ he explained. ‘And when I got back this morning, you were the one I couldn’t wait to see. There’s one thing we do have to sort out though,’ Josh went on seriously. ‘You have to promise me you won’t have any more to do with Dominic Cross-Calvert.’

  Oh, the relief!

  ‘I promise.’ Tara nodded vigorously. ‘There is no chance of that happening. It’s all over between me and Dominic, I never want to see him again.’

  ‘That’s what you told Daisy.’

  ‘It’s the truth!’

  ‘You might change your mind,’ said Josh.

  ‘Oh, give me a break.’ Tears of happiness sprang into Tara’s eyes as she wound her arms round his neck. Her voice cracking, she whispered, ‘Why would I want to when I’ve got you?’

  Chapter 53

  ‘…the party’s carrying on,’ Dev shouted down the phone above a babble of background noise, ‘and Kate doesn’t want to leave, so we’re going to book into a hotel up here for the night.’

  Daisy gazed across the living room at her mini mountain of shopping bags and thought sourly, I’ll bet Kate doesn’t want to leave. Tart.

  You knew your attempt at retail therapy hadn’t had the desired mood-lifting effect when every single thing you’d bought was still sitting unopened in glossy carriers at eleven o’clock at night.

  ‘This is all very interesting, but why are you telling me? You’re over eighteen,’ she reminded Dev. ‘You don’t need my permission to stay out.’

  ‘It’s Clarissa. I told Adam we’d be home around midnight. Look, I’m sorry, but I’ve just rung his room and there’s no reply. Could you find Adam, have a word with him, and see if he wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on her until tomorrow afternoon?’

  While you gallivant in London?

  ‘Don’t you think you’re being the tiniest bit selfish here?’ Outraged, Daisy said spikily, ‘Adam was planning to go to Longleat tomorrow. Now I suppose he’s expected to cancel his plans, just because you can’t be bothered to—’

  ‘OK, stop, I didn’t know about Longleat,’ Dev cut in.

  Not too surprisingly, seeing as even Adam didn’t know about Longleat.

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ If she got caught out later, Daisy hastily decided, she’d claim to have misheard what Adam had said. With his gruff adolescent Aussie twang, that was feasible, surely? (‘Oh, you meant you were going to be lonely on Sunday! Silly me, I thought you said you were going to be at Longleat!’)

  ‘Looks like I’m stuck.’ Dev paused. ‘Unless you could look after Clarissa.’

  Yes!

  ‘Me? I can’t do it, I’m busy.’ Daisy’s voice rose. ‘Dev, you can’t expect me to drop everything, just to—’

  ‘OK, OK,’ Dev said hurriedly. ‘It was just a thought. Right then, I’ll sort something else out.’

  ‘What does that mean? Phone round everyone you know until you find someone willing to take her?’

  ‘I don’t—’

  ‘Someone who’s never even met Clarissa? Oh, for heaven’s sake.’ Daisy heaved a hurricane-force sigh. ‘I’ll look after her.’

  ‘No. Absolutely not. I’ll drive back,’ Dev said firmly.

  ‘Don’t be stupid. I’ll do it.’

  ‘But you’re busy.’

  ‘I know I’m busy, but somebody has to take care of Clarissa.’

  ‘Now I feel terrible,’ said Dev.

  ‘Good.’ Triumphantly, Daisy hung up.

  ***

  She found Adam and Clarissa downstairs in the bar, listening to Hector murder ‘Mac The Knife.’ Well, listening to Hector and half a dozen guests from Chicago all singing ‘Mac The Knife.’

  Very badly indeed. It was clearly going to be one of those noisy Saturday nights.

  In response to Daisy’s beckoning, Adam tipped Clarissa off his knee and they both ambled over.

  ‘Dev’s been held up. He’s staying overnight in London,’ Daisy explained, ‘so I’ll take over looking after Clarissa.’

  Adam’s face fell. ‘I don’t mind. We’ve had such a great time. She can stay with me.’

  ‘Yes, but Dev won’t be back until tomorrow… night,’ Daisy improvised.

  Eagerly Adam said, ‘I’m not doing anything tomorrow either. Honestly, I’d be happy to keep her for another day.’

  ‘That’s very sweet of you, but I told Dev I’d look after Clarissa.’ She gave him her most businesslike look, the one that signaled: I’m the manager of this hotel and I get the dog.

  ‘Oh. Well, OK.’ Adam took a slurp of Coke and gave Clarissa a regretful pat on the head. ‘See ya then, girl. Be good now.’

  Clarissa wagged her tail then licked his hand. It was all very Disney.

  ‘Come on, sweetheart, it’s past your bedtime.’ Daisy felt like Cruella de Vil, luring Clarissa away under false pretences. Although obviously she wasn’t planning to turn her into a coat.

  Thankfully Clarissa didn’t whimper and wrap her paws round Adam’s ankle. She trotted happily after Daisy as together they left the bar.

  Paula Penhaligon was in reception, sticking stamps onto letters and posting them into the wooden collection box. Despite Hector’s urging, he had never persuaded her to join in with his impromptu sing-along sessions. She claimed to be resting her voice but Daisy suspected she felt it was beneath her. Crikey, one quick chorus of ‘Roll Out The Barrel’—how much damage could that do? Paula just didn’t want to perform for free.

  Still, she was Hector’s lady friend. Be polite.

  ‘Hi, Paula… oops.’ As she called out the friendly greeting, Clarissa darted between her legs. Ears flattened, she cowered at Daisy’s feet.

  ‘Oh. Hello.’ Paula Penhaligon smiled briefly back at Daisy.

  But how weird. Why was Clarissa trembling?

  ‘Dad’s in full flow in there.’ Daisy indicated the bar. ‘Are you joining him?’

  ‘Oh no, I don’t think so. Those awful Americans keep pestering me to have my photograph taken with them.’ Paula pulled a genteel face. ‘I wouldn’t mind, but they keep telling me about their last trip to Graceland. As far as they’re concerned, the only music worth listening to is fifties rock’n’roll.’

  Daisy heard low-pitched growling coming from around her feet. How completely embarrassing—Clarissa was actually baring her teeth at Paula Penhaligon! Appalled, she swept the dog up and said, ‘Sssh, what do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘Hrrrrrrrhr,’ Clarissa growled ominously, quivering in her arms.

  ‘God, I’m really sorry.’ Mortified, Daisy shook her head at Paula. ‘She’s never done anything like this before.’

  ‘That’s the trouble with animals. They’re unpredictable. You can’t let a dangerous dog just run around the hotel,’ said Paula. ‘You really should put it on a lead.’

  ***

  ‘What made you do that?’ Daisy chided when they were safely inside her apartment. ‘Of all the people to get funny with.’

  ‘Woof,’ agreed Clarissa, leaping unrepentantly onto the bed.

  ‘That woman could end up being my stepmother, you know. And that’s your bed over there,’ Daisy added, pointing to the basket she had taken from Dev’s room. ‘Your basket, your blanket, your lovely squeaky ball… oh well, never mind. Come here.’ Collapsing onto the bed, she let Clarissa jump onto her lap and gave her a cuddle. ‘Oh, it’s so lovely to have you here. Shall we get ourselves some biscuits and watch a video?’

  Clarissa wriggled ecstatically and thumped her tail.

  As she f
licked on the TV, Daisy said, ‘I wonder what Dev’s doing now.’ Then she stopped, because she didn’t want to wonder what Dev might be up to. ‘Anyway, never mind him. What d’you fancy, custard creams or chocolate biscuits?’

  Clarissa yapped and lovingly nuzzled her neck.

  ‘Fabulous idea.’ Daisy nodded with approval. ‘Let’s have both.’

  ***

  It had knocked her for six at the time, but the idea that Freddie was actually Steven’s son was one that Daisy was getting used to.

  Now, on Sunday morning, she and Clarissa watched from her bedroom window as Mel, kneeling on the hotel lawn with her arms outstretched, encouraged Freddie to take a few tottering steps towards her.

  Three tottering steps, in fact, before he lost his balance and landed with a bump on the grass.

  He really was an angelic-looking boy. It wasn’t his fault Steven was his father.

  Leaping down from the window seat, Clarissa raced across to the door and whimpered in a ladylike fashion.

  ‘OK, OK.’ Hastily dragging a brush through her hair, Daisy followed her. Clarissa had her legs metaphorically crossed and was desperate to relieve herself. ‘We’ll go out the back way.’

  But if Clarissa understood, she chose to ignore this instruction. As far as she was concerned the front staircase was quicker. Suppressing a sigh, Daisy followed her. Oh well, she couldn’t spend the next goodness knows how long avoiding Mel and pretending she didn’t exist.

  Clarissa decorously emptied her bladder behind a yew tree before speeding across the grass like a bullet to join Mel and Freddie. Belatedly remembering why she’d brought the lead downstairs with her, Daisy yelled, ‘Clarissa, stop, come here.’

  Nightmare newspaper headlines flashed before her eyes: small mongrel with ridiculous name mauls angelic toddler. But all Clarissa did was greet Mel like an old friend and nuzzle joyfully up to Freddie before turning and sauntering back, her tail still wagging like a metronome.

  Daisy clipped the lead to her collar with relief.

  Scooping Freddie up, Mel made her way over.

  ‘I haven’t had a chance yet to thank you properly.’ With her free hand, she pushed her bangs out of her eyes. ‘For saving Freddie… letting us stay here… well, everything.’ Another pause. ‘I know it’s feeble, but what else can I say? Thank you.’

  Didn’t have a lot of choice, thought Daisy. When someone was throwing a baby out of a burning house you felt morally obliged to catch it. Otherwise people were going to call you a butterfingers for the rest of your life.

  Awkwardly she muttered, ‘That’s OK.’

  ‘I never meant to hurt you,’ Mel went on bluntly. ‘I swear I didn’t. If I hadn’t met Barney, you’d never have found out about Freddie.’

  ‘I know.’ Daisy had already worked this out for herself. Plus, of course, if she hadn’t given Barney a job he’d never have got involved with Mel. This whole mess was practically her own fault.

  ‘Sometimes these things just happen,’ said Mel. ‘I’m really not a horrible person. And I do love Barney.’

  ‘Everyone loves Barney. Where is he, by the way?’

  ‘Up at the cottage. We’re off to see him now. The accident investigators have confirmed it was an electrical fault. All that ancient wiring,’ Mel shuddered. ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about.’

  Daisy shook her head, guiltily recalling the moment when she’d thought Mel might have started the fire herself.

  ‘But you’re insured?’

  ‘Yes, thank God. The claims man came out yesterday. We’ll be able to get the place fixed up. Why are you keeping her on that thing?’ Changing the subject, Mel gestured at Clarissa. ‘I’ve never seen her on a lead before.’

  ‘Oh. One of the guests wasn’t too happy about her running around.’

  ‘But Clarissa isn’t dangerous!’

  ‘She growled at someone,’ Daisy admitted. ‘It’s not like her at all, but better safe than sorry.’

  ‘And you’re looking after her while Dev’s away. You know, I did wonder…’

  ‘Wonder what?’ prompted Daisy when Mel’s voice trailed away.

  ‘Well, the other night when you found the cottage on fire. You and Dev were together—’

  ‘There’s nothing going on between us, if that’s what you think,’ Daisy interrupted. ‘Nothing at all.’ She felt herself getting hot. ‘God, he’s the last person I’d want to be involved with.’

  ‘Why on earth not?’ Mel raised her eyebrows in disbelief. ‘He’s attractive, he’s successful—and brave. Now that’s what I call a catch.’

  ‘He’s what I call a womanizer,’ Daisy shot back, because the last thing she needed, frankly, was a lecture from Mel on the subject of bedworthy men. ‘And I’ve already been married to one of those, thanks very much.’

  Mel ignored the jibe. ‘I just asked,’ she said calmly.

  ‘So you did. And now I’ve told you.’

  ‘I just don’t think you should let it mess up the rest of your life.’

  Chapter 54

  Daisy was draped across the sofa watching The Great Escape when there was a knock at the door.

  Clarissa, lying on her stomach equally engrossed in the film, pricked up her shabby ears and looked inquiringly at Daisy.

  It was six o’clock. Not having bothered to get dressed again after her bath, Daisy tightened the belt of her dressing gown and called out, ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Me.’

  Clarissa slithered off her like an eel and bounded over to the door.

  Double-checking that she was decent, Daisy followed her and opened it. It would have been nice, at this point, if Clarissa could have retained some dignity and played it cool. Some chance. Whimpering with delight, she hurled herself besottedly into Dev’s arms. Like an over-eager girl welcoming back the love-rat boyfriend who endlessly dumps her for other women.

  ‘Thanks for looking after her,’ Dev said with a grin, as Clarissa frantically licked his hands. ‘I owe you one.’

  Daisy stuck her hands into her dressing-gown pockets. ‘She thought you’d abandoned her for good.’

  ‘Sweetheart!’ Dev held the dog’s face up to his. ‘I’d never do that to you.’

  ‘Woof!’ Clarissa agreed, her back legs cycling ecstatically against the crook of his arm.

  ‘Has she behaved herself?’

  ‘She snarled at Paula Penhaligon. I had to keep her on a lead today.’

  ‘Snarled?’ Dev was taken aback. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I was there. I know a snarl when I see one.’ Daisy was tempted to give him a demonstration—she felt quite like snarling herself.

  ‘Maybe I should take her to the vet, get her checked out. Anyway, thanks again for looking after her. Shall I take her basket with me?’ He indicated Clarissa’s un-slept in basket on the floor by the window.

  As she handed it over, Daisy once again felt bereft, the foster mother returning her much-loved charge to its real family. She had to force herself not to kiss Clarissa goodbye.

  ‘We’re down in the bar,’ Dev offered, ‘if you’d like to join us.’

  Us? As in Kate and me? That kind of us?

  ‘I’m not dressed.’

  He raised a playful eyebrow. ‘You could always try—oh, I don’t know, putting some clothes on?’

  Daisy shook her head. ‘No thanks.’

  ‘Are you OK?’ Dev gave her one of his you-can-trust-me looks.

  ‘Fine. Never better.’ She definitely wasn’t going to tell him it was all over between her and Josh. ‘Just tired.’

  ***

  Smiling to herself, Daisy observed the difference in Josh when he arrived back at ten o’clock. He was deliriously happy, but doing his level best to hide it in case she was offended.

  ‘I can’t believe I never realized before how well-matched you two ar
e.’

  ‘I know.’ He grinned, relieved to be able to talk about Tara and ruffling his hair in disbelief. ‘We just seem to get on so brilliantly, and the weird thing is, we have nothing in common! She hates all the films I love. I can’t stand her taste in music. She’s refusing to learn to play golf, and she thinks Roger Moore was a better James Bond than Sean Connery. I mean, let’s face it, how tragic is that?’

  Daisy hugged her knees with delight, as thrilled as if she’d engineered the entire situation herself. Upon meeting some potential new boyfriend, Tara had always automatically turned herself into the kind of girl she thought he’d like her to be. Out went her own views and opinions, and in came an ‘Ooh, me too!’ version of his. If she was involved with a man who was mad about motocross, Tara was instantly mad about it too. If she met one who played in a heavy metal band, she’d buy a heap of heavy metal CDs and actually convince herself that she loved them. Despite the fact that her favorite singer was Mariah Carey.

  ‘And she told me she didn’t like my shirt.’ Josh was shaking his head, clearly appalled by her lack of taste. To be fair, the shirt was yellow and patterned with swirly purple squid. He’d picked it up in Hawaii. Daisy was with Tara on this one.

  ‘You might wear dodgy shirts,’ she said soothingly, ‘but at least you don’t have a secret stash of Starsky and Hutch videos hidden under your bed.’

  Oh yes, Tara was a closet Paul Michael Glaser fan. She’d kill her for this.

  But Josh let out a whoop and exclaimed, ‘I’m mad about Starsky and Hutch, they’re the best!’

  ‘So that’s one thing you have in common. You sad, sad couple.’

  Except they weren’t, of course. Tara and Josh were a happy, happy couple. Apart from one slight awkward dilemma…

  She waited until he’d brought her a cup of coffee and the biscuit tin before broaching it.

  ‘Josh?’

  He pulled a face. ‘What? You hate my shirt too?’

  ‘Your shirt is great,’ Daisy assured him. ‘Especially for cleaning windows.’

  He pinched her elbow. ‘What did I ever see in you?’

  ‘I’m lovely, just an all-round kind and caring person. Which is why I’m concerned about your sex life.’

 

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