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Jill Mansell Boxed Set

Page 28

by Jill Mansell


  Chapter 39

  The big thaw arrived two days later. The following morning, so did Dev Tyzack.

  Daisy, discussing deliveries with the head chef at the entrance to the restaurant, heard a familiar voice behind her and felt her heart leap like a salmon. Turning, she saw Dev leaning against the reception desk. He spoke again, making Pam laugh. In fact, making Pam laugh skittishly, Daisy couldn’t help noticing. What was he doing here? Even more to the point, what were those suitcases doing at his feet?

  Feeling as if she was walking through treacle, Daisy excused herself and headed down the corridor towards him.

  Hearing her high heels tapping across the polished floor, Dev looked over his shoulder and shot her a dry smile.

  ‘What’s going on?’ She indicated the three—three—Samsonite cases. ‘Have you run away from home?’ Was he actually booking in? Why? Why would he be doing this?

  ‘I have.’ He sounded amused. ‘And you would too, if you could see my home.’

  Pam, who was a huge devotee of bad news, gushed, ‘Poor Mr Tyzack, he was just telling me all about it. The pipes froze, then one of them burst in the night up in the loft. The whole house is wrecked, can you imagine? Curtains, carpets, furniture—everything’s completely ruined!’

  If Christiane Amanpour ever needed a stand-in, Pam was the woman for the job.

  ‘But on the plus side,’ Dev kept a straight face, ‘Clarissa has learned to swim.’

  ‘How could your pipes freeze?’ Daisy was puzzled. He had central heating, surely?

  ‘I’ve been away for a few days. My cleaning woman was keeping an eye on the house for me. She’s a frugal lady,’ Dev explained with a crooked smile, ‘who couldn’t bear the thought of all that heat going to waste while I wasn’t there to appreciate it. So she turned the heating off. When we got home at four o’clock this morning, we found water pouring through the ceiling. It was like Niagara Falls. Every room in the house is affected. There’s nowhere to sit down because all the chairs and beds and sofas are waterlogged. The electricity’s off. The wallpaper’s hanging off the walls. I had to get out,’ he concluded with a shrug. ‘So I rang here.’

  ‘Lucky we weren’t fully booked,’ Pam trilled.

  Lucky? Daisy wasn’t so sure. Having Dev Tyzack around was going to be a distraction she didn’t need right now.

  Anyway, who was this person he had arrived home with at four o’clock this morning? He had definitely said we.

  ‘How long will you be here?’

  ‘Until the house is sorted out.’ Hazarding a guess, Dev raked his fingers through his hair and said, ‘Three or four weeks?’

  Booking into a four-star hotel for a month was going to cost him a fortune.

  ‘Couldn’t you stay with a friend?’ Innocently Daisy added, ‘Wouldn’t Jennifer put you up?’

  ‘Jennifer’s my secretary. She isn’t my girlfriend. She shares a flat with three other girls in Bath.’

  ‘My mistake,’ said Daisy. ‘She acted as if she was your girlfriend. And you were taking her out to dinner.’ Maybe she insisted on being fed before she slept with him.

  ‘Dinner can be just dinner, you know.’ Dev’s dark eyes glittered. ‘Jennifer put in a lot of extra work, helping me set up the conference. It was my way of thanking her.’

  ‘Why move into this hotel, anyway?’ Daisy persisted. ‘I’d have thought it would be simpler to stay in Bath.’

  ‘Daisy, will you stop interrogating the poor man? Heavens,’ Pam exclaimed with a little laugh, ‘anyone would think you were trying to put him off!’

  Dev, unperturbed, replied calmly, ‘I like this hotel. It’s handy for the M4. And you allow dogs, which most places don’t.’

  The phone rang on the reception desk. Pam answered it.

  ‘Who was looking after Clarissa while you were away?’ Daisy couldn’t help it; she knew she sounded like a disapproving social worker. ‘Putting her into kennels isn’t going to do her any good, you know. She’ll just think you’re dumping her back in another dogs’ home, she’ll feel abandoned all over again.’

  ‘I didn’t abandon Clarissa. I took her with me. When I said we came home and found the house flooded, I was talking about me and Clarissa.’

  Daisy’s stomach squirmed with a mixture of relief and horror. Horror because she didn’t want to feel relieved that ‘the other woman’ was only Clarissa. And now Dev was smiling at her in that unnerving way of his, as if he knew exactly what had been going through—

  ‘Daisy, it’s for you!’ Pam held out the phone she had been giggling into for the last thirty seconds. ‘It’s Josh, ringing from Kitzbühel.’

  Pam adored Josh, who teased and flirted with her unmercifully.

  ‘Daisy’s boyfriend,’ she cozily confided to Dev. ‘He’s away at the moment, skiing in Austria. Such a card! He just told me he’s dangling by one arm from the ski-lift over a huge abyss.’

  ‘It’s not true,’ Josh told Daisy. ‘Actually, I’m sitting on the terrace of a restaurant at the top of a mountain, surrounded by stunning actresses and supermodels.’

  ‘Plenty of food left for you, then,’ said Daisy.

  ‘It’s not funny. They keep pestering me, telling me how gorgeous I am. I hope you’re missing me,’ he said. ‘Jennifer, stop it, behave yourself… Giselle, tell Jennifer to leave me alone.’

  ‘I’m missing you terribly. But I’m going to have to go,’ said Daisy. ‘Jude’s just turned up.’

  At this, predictably, Pam’s head swiveled round to the doors.

  ‘You go and see to him,’ Josh urged. ‘In a purely hotel manageressy kind of way, naturally. I’ll speak to you again later.’

  ‘Happy skiing.’ Daisy nodded at Pam as she put the phone down. ‘It’s OK, he’s safe. The rescue helicopter came along and winched him up just before he fell.’

  ‘That Josh, he’s a one. He has me in stitches.’ Pam beamed up at Dev. ‘They make such a lovely couple—yes, Mrs Kendall, how can I help you?’

  As Pam moved away to deal with Mrs Kendall, one of the porters came down the stairs.

  ‘James.’ Daisy beckoned him over. ‘Could you take Mr Tyzack’s bags and show him up to his room. Room…?’

  ‘Six,’ said Dev. ‘But I’ve got Clarissa waiting out in the car.’

  Clarissa! She’d forgotten all about Clarissa. Daisy, her eyes lighting up, said, ‘It’s going to be so great having her here!’

  ‘Nice to know one of us is popular.’ With a brief smile, Dev slipped James some money to take his bags upstairs. ‘Want to come and say hello?’

  Clarissa threw herself against the passenger window, scrabbling at it with her paws and yelping with delight when she saw them. Panting with excitement, she leapt up into Daisy’s arms and licked her face.

  ‘So this is how it feels to be Robbie Williams.’ Daisy hugged her number one fan in return. ‘Hello, sweetheart, guess what, you’re coming to stay here for a while, isn’t that brilliant?’

  ‘Better than that,’ said Dev. ‘The carpets are dry. There isn’t water dripping out of the TV. And your Bonios won’t float across the kitchen floor.’ As he spoke, he retrieved Clarissa’s sodden blanket from the boot, along with her basket. ‘I’m going to have to dry these out.’

  ‘We’ll put them in the boiler room. They’ll be dry in no time.’ Tilting her head, Daisy let Clarissa lick the blusher off her other cheek. May as well be symmetrical about it.

  ‘Just a thought,’ said Dev as they picked their way back through the melting snow. ‘But if you’re not doing anything tonight, and Josh is away, would you like to have dinner with me?’

  Daisy concentrated on stepping round a slushy puddle. Her pulse began to race like a teenager’s. Would she like to have dinner with Dev Tyzack? Probably. OK, yes.

  Then again, would it be wise to have dinner with him? Not really. Actually, no, it
wouldn’t. Not wise at all.

  I’m with Josh now. I decided it was for the best, and it is.

  Dammit, vowing to steer clear of men was all very well, but not quite so easy when they moved into your hotel and started having nerve-wracking effects on your body.

  ‘Just dinner.’ Dev sounded amused. ‘No hidden agenda, all above board. Nothing… lewd, if that’s what’s bothering you.’

  Feeling irrationally insulted, Daisy climbed the steps to the hotel, lowered Clarissa to the floor, and watched her bound off in search of more friendly faces to greet and strip free of makeup.

  ‘Tart,’ Dev fondly observed.

  ‘I can’t have dinner with you,’ said Daisy.

  He shook his head. ‘I didn’t mean you were a tart. I was talking about Clarissa.’

  Honestly, did he think she was completely thick?

  ‘I know, but I still can’t have dinner with you. I’m doing something else tonight.’

  ‘Oh.’ Dev looked as if he didn’t believe her. ‘OK. Maybe some other time.’

  Daisy flashed her professional don’t-bank-on-it smile. ‘Maybe.’

  ***

  ‘That man thinks he’s so irresistible,’ Tara scoffed that evening when Daisy told her about the dinner invitation. She had her own reasons for not liking Dev Tyzack. ‘He really thinks he’s God’s gift to women. Well, I’m glad you turned him down. Jolly well serves him right. When did this bottle get empty? Daisy, this bottle’s empty, quick, emergency, dial nine-nine-nine.’

  ‘OK, OK, don’t panic.’ Daisy, back from the fridge with a fresh bottle, uncorked it and sloshed more wine into their glasses. This was nice, being holed up in her apartment with Tara, the two of them just drinking and relaxing and generally getting everything off their respective chests. ‘I mean, I’m happy with Josh. You know how happy I am with Josh.’

  ‘I do. I do know that.’ Tara nodded vigorously, clonking her glass against her teeth. ‘Josh is brilliant.’ Even if he did have a big mouth.

  ‘And I don’t fancy Dev Tyzack one bit,’ Daisy lied, ‘but the thing is, he seems to think I do fancy him, which is really annoying, especially now that he’s going to be here for the next God knows how many weeks. And I have to be polite to him because he’s a guest, but he just seems to think this proves how much I secretly like him and I honestly don’t… Am I rambling?’

  ‘No, no, no… well, yes.’ Beaming, Tara dangled her bare feet over the arm of the sofa and waggled her toes along to Coldplay on the CD player. ‘But that’s OK, because you let me ramble on about Dominic. ’S only fair. Did I tell you about the dream I had the other night?’

  ‘Twice,’ said Daisy. ‘Did I tell you he’s not going to leave his wife?’

  ‘About fifty times.’ Tara was no longer letting it bother her. ‘So many times you wouldn’t believe it. But I don’t care, because you think you’re right and I know you’re wrong… oops, spilt a bit, lucky it’s not red. Anyway, how’s Hector getting on with Ms Nip’n’Tuck?’

  ‘Oh, he’s enjoying himself.’ Daisy wrinkled her nose. ‘She’s a bit of a townie. You won’t sleep with him, will you?’

  More wine sloshed down Tara’s chin. ‘Hector?’

  ‘Dominic!’

  Phew.

  ‘I’ve already said I won’t.’ Tara made it sound like a grumble but inwardly she was hugging her latest idea to herself. She wasn’t agreeing for Daisy’s sake, but for her own. It had come to her in a flash that afternoon. If she and Dominic were secretly seeing each other and sleeping together, where was the incentive for him to leave Annabel? If, on the other hand, she refused to have sex with him until he had left his wife—well, wasn’t that more likely to propel him in the right direction? Tara-wards?

  ‘And keep your options open.’ Daisy wagged a finger at her. ‘If you meet someone nice in the meantime—someone single and nice—don’t refuse to consider them because of Dominic. Give them a chance. You never know, they might be just what you’re looking for.’

  ‘My shoes, that’s what I’m looking for.’ It was eleven o’clock, time to make her way home. Peering over the edge of the sofa, Tara just managed to stop herself rolling onto the floor. ‘Damn, head’s gone spinny. Time to go home.’

  ‘You can stay.’ Daisy, feeling pretty spinny herself, waved an arm in the general direction of the spare bedroom.

  ‘No, no. Thanks, but I’d rather… you know.’ Tara managed to grab her shoes. Dominic might phone and she couldn’t bear to miss him.

  Jumping up, Daisy careered towards the door. ‘I’ll walk with you.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘I want to,’ Daisy insisted. ‘It’s slippery out there. You can’t go on your own.’

  ‘But if you walk me back, you’ll have to walk home on your own.’ Tara frowned. It was like one of those brain-teasing puzzles with the fox, the chicken, and the cabbage having to pair up in a rowing boat to reach the island. Even sober, it had never been something she could work out.

  ‘Got it! I’ll walk with you as far as the hotel gates. Then you can go home and I’ll come back here and that’ll be completely fair.’

  Tara was lost in admiration. Daisy had always been so intelligent. Even if she was currently sitting on the floor struggling to put her wellies on the wrong feet.

  ‘God, these things are uncomfortable.’ Daisy waddled like a duck over to the door, then turned and put a finger unsteadily to her lips. ‘Now sshh, no giggling. And we’ll sneak out the back way—don’t want any of the guests thinking we’re pissed.’

  ‘Your feet are on the wrong way round,’ sniggered Tara.

  ‘What?’ Daisy peered down at them. ‘Nope. Toes at the front, ankles at the back. My feet have always been like that.’

  Chapter 40

  Oh yes, fresh air, that was better! Lovely cold fresh air, just what she needed to clear her spinning head. Having hugged Tara goodnight—by some miracle neither of them had fallen over—Daisy watched her make her way down the High Street before turning and heading back up the drive. Well, wavering back up the drive.

  The thaw was still in full flow. Entranced by the sound of snow plopping from the trees, Daisy veered to the right—God, had these wellies shrunk or something? They were playing havoc with her toes—and lifted her face up to the falling dollops of snow.

  Plop.

  ‘Plop,’ Daisy echoed.

  Plop… plop.

  ‘Plop… plop.’ She felt gloriously at one with nature. She was actually having a conversation with the snow.

  Plop.

  ‘Plop,’ Daisy solemnly replied. Crikey, never mind Dennis the Dachshund, this was like starring in Bill And Ben the Flowerpot Men.

  Plop, plop, plop, plop…

  ‘Flobalobalobalob,’ Daisy conversed—quite authentically, she felt—until it dawned on her that the plops had become more rhythmic. And crunchy. In fact less like snow falling from branches and more like… feet trudging through melting snow.

  A voice behind her said, ‘Daisy, is that you?’

  Oh, fuck.

  Mortified, Daisy swung round. Her tone accusing, she said, ‘What are you doing out here?’ Oh God, please don’t let him have overheard her talking to the snow.

  ‘Walking Clarissa.’ Dev—dammit—was sounding faintly amused. ‘Didn’t want her weeing in my room.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  He pointed. ‘Over there. Investigating your snowman.’

  ‘That’s no snowman, that’s my dad.’ Through the darkness, Daisy was just about able to make out the melting outline of Hector, by this time minus his kilt. As his waist had decreased in girth it had dropped to the ground, though the champagne bottle—typically—was still clutched to his chest.

  Now, as she paid more attention, she detected a small, four-legged figure snuffling around the incredible shrinking snowman.


  But Daisy had other, more important things on her mind.

  ‘Those tights did cost ten pounds,’ she blurted out. ‘I wasn’t trying to rip off your secretary.’

  Well, it had been bothering her.

  ‘OK, fine, I believe you.’ Was Dev Tyzack laughing at her? ‘Your feet look funny, by the way.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, why does everyone keep going on about my feet?’

  ‘Probably because you’ve got your wellies on the wrong way round.’ He moved closer, putting out an arm to steady Daisy as she lifted one leg into the air to examine it. ‘Come on, I’ll walk you back. What are you doing out here anyway?’

  ‘Making sure Tara got home safely. We had a couple of drinks.’

  ‘More than a couple, by the look of you.’

  He was holding her as if she were some doddery old lady who needed help crossing the road. Irritably shaking him off, Daisy said, ‘I can manage,’ and promptly crashed into a tree trunk.

  ‘Don’t be so obstinate.’ Clearly entertained, Dev hauled her back on track. ‘Is Tara as bad as you?’

  ‘Bad? Me? What did I ever do wrong? Tara’s badder than I am, she’s lots badder than me. Even though it isn’t her fault.’ Daisy wagged an accusing finger at him.

  ‘Really?’ He nodded, humoring her. ‘So whose fault would it be?’

  ‘Dominic Cross-Calvert. Your oh-so-wonderful friend. He’s big trouble.’ As she said it, Daisy dimly wondered whether she should be telling him this. Then again, Dev wasn’t really such a great friend of Dominic’s, was he? And why shouldn’t he know what he’d been up to?

  ‘Trouble in what way?’

  ‘He’s pestering Tara. He comes over to see her all the time. For crying out loud, he’s only been married a couple of months and he won’t leave her alone!’

  Their footsteps crunched through the melting snow as they made their way up the drive.

  Dev, tilting his head to one side, said, ‘Why doesn’t Tara tell him she doesn’t want to see him?’

  God, and this was a supposedly intelligent man.

 

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