by Jill Mansell
It shouldn’t have been easy, crying in front of someone you really didn’t want to cry in front of, but somehow it was. Not normally the blubbing kind, Daisy simply gave up and let go, howling into her hands, trumpeting through a succession of tissues, and sobbing unrestrainedly against the front of Dev’s denim shirt, while he held her and stroked her hair and patiently rubbed her back until the worst of the grief was out of her system.
Much later, Daisy gave her eyes one last wipe—they were by this time so swollen it was actually painful—and said, ‘Well, I must look gorgeous. Bet you’re glad you came up here now.’
Dev smiled. ‘I can handle it.’
‘Still, it must make a nice change.’ She paused to blow her nose, honking like a goose into a fresh tissue. ‘I bet when girls normally blubber all over you, it’s because you’ve just finished with them.’
‘You have such a low opinion of me.’ Sounding amused, he added, ‘When I finish with a girl, I prefer to do it by fax.’
‘So that’s what you wanted it for. Oh well, at least I wasn’t wearing mascara.’ Daisy dabbed apologetically at the damp patches on the front of his shirt.
‘Anyway. What are you going to do?’
‘Wash my face, I suppose. See if I can find any eye drops.’
‘About this girl,’ said Dev.
‘Oh. Her.’ Mel, thought Daisy, gazing at the black suede boots she hadn’t got round to removing yet. Bending over, she yanked them off her feet and hurled them one after the other at the living room door. They thudded satisfyingly against the wood and clattered to the floor.
‘That’s what I’d like to do to her. Knock her flying. Oh hell, I don’t know, I just don’t know.’ A fresh wave of misery rose up in Daisy’s throat. ‘You know what? I met her at the hospital after the accident. She wasn’t allowed into the intensive care unit but I persuaded the nurse to let her in to see Steven. Which, quite frankly, I felt was pretty decent of me under the circumstances. And then a year later I saw her here when she came to visit his grave, and I didn’t scream or shout or call her horrible names, I was perfectly polite again. But this time… God, this time I just lost it.’ Daisy shook her head. ‘I mean, a baby. She gave birth to Steven’s baby and now she’s brought it back to live here in our village… I was nice to her and in return she does this to me! It makes me feel sick. Steven didn’t even like babies,’ she exclaimed bitterly. ‘He made damn sure I kept taking my pills… he used to check how many were left in the packet.’
‘I thought you said your marriage was a disaster.’ Dev frowned. ‘Why would you want a baby if it was that bad?’
‘I didn’t,’ Daisy said crossly. ‘After the wedding I just said I’d like to have children one day—well, most people do, don’t they?—and Steven was horrified. Kids weren’t his idea of fun and they didn’t fit into his lifestyle. Ironic, isn’t it? There he was, counting my pills like Scrooge counting money, and at the same time getting his girlfriend pregnant. God.’
‘What?’ said Dev.
‘If he was still alive, I’d punch him.’
‘If he were alive,’ Dev pointed out, ‘you’d be divorced by now. And the chances are he wouldn’t still be with this other girl either. He’d have dumped her and left her holding the baby, because that’s what men like him do.’
Men like him? Daisy wondered skeptically whether he meant ‘men like us.’
‘Has it ever happened to you?’
He shrugged. ‘A couple of times.’
What? Daisy’s heart began to thump unpleasantly in her chest. ‘You’ve got two children?’
Dev broke into a grin. ‘Sorry, meant to be a joke. Oh dear, you really don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you?’
No.
‘I was gullible once.’ Defensively, she picked a bit of fluff from her pushed-up sleeve. ‘When you’ve been married to someone like Steven… well, it teaches you a lesson.’
‘Never to trust any man again?’ He sounded amused. ‘Daisy, you can’t do that. It’s no way to live.’
‘And it’s not what I’m doing,’ she shot back. ‘I’m just a lot choosier these days about who I trust.’
‘So you won’t get hurt again.’ Dev nodded thoughtfully. ‘Take no risks, go for the safe option, don’t aim too high—that kind of thing?’
‘How dare you!’ Furiously, Daisy rounded on him. ‘That’s a terrible thing to say—and that’s not what I’m doing with Josh!’
Dev raised an eyebrow. ‘Keep your hair on, I didn’t say it was. I wasn’t talking about Josh. I don’t even know him.’
Oh. Right. But then again… The skin at the back of Daisy’s neck prickled with guilt at the realization that he might not have been talking about Josh but she had been.
And it hadn’t escaped Dev’s notice.
There was a knock at the door. Oh God, what now?
Without moving and without enthusiasm, Daisy said, ‘Who is it?’
‘Me. Um, Barney.’ He sounded very subdued.
‘Do you want to see him?’ said Dev.
Poor Barney. Her heart went out to him. This had come as much of a shock to him as it had to her.
Daisy nodded, hoping her eyes didn’t look too froggy, and watched Dev kick her suede boots to one side before opening the door.
Dev showed Barney into the living room and let himself out. For a couple of seconds Daisy and Barney stared at each other without speaking. If there was a Kennel Club award for most anguished puppy, Barney would surely win it hands down.
‘I’m sorry,’ he blurted out, his face the picture of misery. ‘I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t know.’
Daisy sighed and patted the sofa cushions next to her, still warm from where Dev had been sitting.
‘Of course you didn’t know. This isn’t your fault. Look, come and sit down.’
Barney hesitated, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, then obediently sat.
‘I just can’t believe it.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘An hour ago I was happier than I’ve ever been before in my life. Then something like this happens… and I just don’t know what to think anymore. I can’t believe I’ve done this to you,’ he went on. ‘I feel terrible. I bet you wish you’d never met me now.’
He was desolate, awash with remorse, his wounded-puppy eyes avoiding hers.
‘Don’t be stupid.’ Discovering that he was taking this harder than she was made Daisy, in an odd way, feel better. All she had to deal with was the shock, whereas Barney was saddled with the additional burden of guilt.
‘I mean it.’ Barney pressed his hands to his forehead. ‘If I’d known who Mel was when I first met her, I’d never have got involved.’
Glancing across the room at her black suede boots, Daisy briefly considered offering them to Barney to hurl against the door.
‘But you did. Get involved, I mean. So how do you feel about her now?’
For a moment Barney was unable to speak. Watching him bite his lower lip, Daisy prayed he wasn’t about to cry. She’d used up all the tissues in the box.
Finally he whispered, ‘I hate her.’
Daisy waited.
‘I love her.’ Barney closed his eyes, then opened them again. ‘I’m sorry, but I do. I love her and I love Freddie, I can’t help it. But now this has happened, I just don’t know what to do…’
‘OK, listen to me.’ Daisy couldn’t bear to see him so torn. ‘Mel wasn’t straight with you, but neither was I. You assumed Steven and I were happily married and I let you carry on thinking that, basically because I didn’t want to upset you. But we weren’t happy,’ she said slowly. ‘Not happy at all. I didn’t know he was having an affair but I still wanted a divorce. Barney, he was only interested in my money. He lied, he cheated… he even tried emotional blackmail on me before he died. Steven wasn’t a very nice person. Obviously Mel wouldn’t agree
, but he lied to her too, and he was very good at it. What did she have to say after I left the cottage this morning?’
Barney shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. ‘Um, that Steven wanted to divorce you but you wouldn’t let him go.’
Daisy nodded, unsurprised. After all, why would Mel believe her rather than Steven? He had always been dazzlingly persuasive.
‘And what did you say to her?’
‘That I was coming here to see you.’
‘And now you’ve seen me what are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know.’ Barney exhaled helplessly and pushed his fingers through his floppy hair. ‘Leave, I suppose.’
Chapter 46
‘Tara? Oh, there you are! Phone call for you.’ Pam burst into the ladies’ loo looking harassed. ‘I really shouldn’t have to chase around the hotel like this,’ she went on crossly. ‘I told him personal calls were frowned on but he insisted it was an emergency.’
Tara immediately stopped polishing the gilt-framed oval mirror she had been admiring herself in. It was perfectly true that personal calls were frowned on, but only by Pam. Who, incidentally, regarded her as a bit of a trollop.
Huh, chance would be a fine thing.
But who on earth could be phoning her here at the hotel? Even more thrillingly, who had phoned and actually managed to persuade pompous Pam to get off her fat bottom for once and come and find her?
Good grief, it couldn’t be Andy, could it? Overcome with remorse and ringing to tell her he’d made the most terrible mistake and if she could possibly forgive him he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to her?
Maybe not. Let’s face it, it was far more likely to be her fire-breathing bank manager.
Yuk, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to take the call now.
‘Did he sound nice?’ Tara said warily. ‘Or mean?’
Pam huffed and flicked back her heavily lacquered hair—which wasn’t going anywhere—with irritation.
‘It took me long enough to find you.’ You hussy, Tara mentally inserted at this point. ‘Why don’t you go and find out for yourself?’
Reaching the reception desk, Tara took the phone Pam was holding out to her like a nun handing over a vibrator.
‘If he hasn’t hung up by now,’ Pam commented, not so sotto voce and clearly hoping he had.
‘Hello?’ said Tara.
‘About bloody time too,’ crackled a voice that made her heart lollop in a rabbity fashion.
‘Oh! It’s you!’ Her fingers convulsively tightened around the receiver. Dominic!
He sounded amused. ‘Who were you expecting, the Inland Revenue?’
‘Much worse.’ Tara heaved a gusty sigh of relief. ‘My bank manager.’
This time he laughed, and she realized that when you were married to a multimillionairess it wasn’t a scenario you were likely to be familiar with. Crikey, in Dominic’s position your bank manager probably sent you expensive Christmas cards. And signed them with love and kisses.
‘Look, sorry to ring you at work, but I’ve had an idea.’ He paused for effect. ‘How d’you fancy booking into a hotel for the night and being spoiled rotten? Romantic dinner, candlelight, champagne, the works.’
The rabbit in her chest was running a marathon. Breathlessly, Tara said, ‘Sounds… interesting. Who with?’
He was smiling, she could tell. ‘Me. But only if you want to.’
The whole night together. Spoiled rotten. The works…
‘What about, um…?’
‘Annabel’s away visiting an old schoolfriend. She’s staying in London, coming back tomorrow afternoon. So,’—Dominic’s tone was playful—‘how about it?’
There was no contest, even if Pam hadn’t been there emitting chilly waves of disapproval and visibly willing her to get off the phone.
‘OK,’ whispered Tara.
‘That’s my girl. I’ll pick you up at six, usual place. Better go now,’ Dominic said cheerfully. ‘Bye, sweetheart.’
‘Bye.’ Tara put the phone down, her thoughts darting helplessly in all directions. This was it, then. The one thing Daisy had warned her not to do. It was going to happen… how could it not happen? Oh my Lord, a night in a hotel! Just like a real couple—
‘Oh, there you are, Mr Tyzack,’ Pam exclaimed, sending a shiver down Tara’s spine. ‘That parcel you were waiting for just arrived ten minutes ago!’
Dev crossed the hall and smiled briefly at Tara. As he reached for the package Pam was holding out to him, he said, ‘Have you seen Daisy this morning?’
Tara shook her head. She didn’t want to see Daisy either. God, she’d do her best to talk her out of meeting Dominic tonight. And as for Dev, what would he say if he knew?
‘You look a bit flushed,’ he commented.
The trick, she decided, was not to appear guilty. She was tarty Tara, flirty but essentially harmless.
‘Probably just the excitement,’ she smiled sunnily back at him, ‘of standing next to you.’
***
When Barney pushed open the front door of the cottage, he saw the cases in the middle of the living-room floor. Moments later, Mel struggled down the stairs clutching a couple of stuffed carrier bags in one hand and Freddie in the other.
‘What are you doing?’ said Barney.
‘What does it look like? Saving you the trouble of telling me to leave.’ White-faced but determined, Mel added the carriers to the pile and lowered Freddie gently to the floor next to them. Straightening up, she said, ‘This is what you want, isn’t it? Us, out of your life. You’re ashamed of me, disgusted by what I did, and you don’t want anything more to do with us. Well, Barney, that’s fine, that’s absolutely fine by me, and you don’t have to worry about me doing anything embarrassing like begging you to change your mind, because I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve just got to pack the rest of Freddie’s things and we’ll be off. If you want to ring a taxi now, that’ll save a bit of time. We can be out of here in twenty minutes.’
‘Mel—’
‘One more thing,’ she cut in, her eyes diamond-bright. ‘Just let me say this. I’m sorry I hurt you and I’m sorry if I upset Daisy. But don’t ever, ever expect me to be sorry I had Freddie.’
Helplessly, Barney shook his head. ‘I don’t expect you to do that. Of course you aren’t sorry about Freddie.’
‘Good. Thank you. I’m glad we’ve got that straight.’ Mel gazed for several seconds down at her son, who was playing happily with a disposable nappy from one of the carrier bags. Freddie flashed them both a naughty, gappy grin and plonked the nappy bonnet-style on his head.
‘Just as well it’s a clean one,’ said Barney.
‘I’ll just get the rest of his things.’ Mel turned to head back up the stairs.
‘Don’t.’ He put out his arm to stop her.
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t want you to go. You don’t have to go.’ His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. ‘Daisy says it’s OK, you can stay.’
‘I don’t believe you. Daisy hates me. She doesn’t want me here.’
Barney hesitated, because this was certainly true. ‘Well, she might not want you here, but she isn’t going to drive you out of the village. She says she’ll cope with it, as long as you… well, keep out of her way.’
‘Jump into a hedge, you mean, if I see her coming down the road towards me?’
‘Just be discreet, that’s what she means. Don’t expect to be invited to any parties up at the hotel. That’s fair enough, isn’t it?’ Barney pleaded, because Mel was looking truculent. ‘I think it’s brilliant of her. We can cope with that, can’t we?’
Mel looked at him, torn. Half of her accepted that it was a decent offer, but the other half violently resented his attitude.
‘Oh yes, it’s fantastic, Daisy’s so wonderful, she says I’m allowed to stay in
the village—even though it isn’t actually her village—but what about you?’ she demanded bluntly. ‘Barney, she doesn’t own you. If she’d said I had to go, that would have been it for us. I’d leave with Freddie, you’d stay here, and you’d never have seen us again. I don’t want us to still be together because Daisy MacLean says we can be, and I’m sure as hell not going to spend the rest of my life being grateful to her.’
‘Sshh.’ Barney smiled and shook his head. ‘You’ve got it all wrong. I told Daisy we were leaving Colworth. I said I couldn’t give you up. And I meant it. I wouldn’t stay here without you and Freddie. And Daisy knew I was serious. That’s when she said it seemed a shame to leave the cottage after I’d worked so hard to do it up.’
‘Oh.’ Mel relaxed, relief washing over her. ‘Well, that’s true.’
‘So we aren’t going anywhere,’ said Barney. ‘We’re staying right here.’
‘OK.’ As he wrapped his arms round her, she could hear the frantic thudding of his heart against her cheek.
‘I love you,’ Barney murmured.
The crisis was over. She hadn’t lost him after all.
‘I love you too,’ whispered Mel.
***
Tara’s stomach was in knots. She was ridiculously excited. This was brilliant. The hotel, small but romantic, was in Clevedon because Dominic didn’t know anyone who either lived or worked in Clevedon. He had gone in ahead of her and given the place a quick once-over while she waited in the car, just to be on the safe side.
And—hooray—it had been safe. For once, nothing was going to go wrong. And about time too, Tara thought joyfully as they were shown up to their room.
‘At last,’ Dominic echoed this sentiment when the porter had gone, leaving them alone together. With a whoop of triumph, he scooped Tara up into his arms, twirled her round the room and deposited her, with a thud, on the huge bed. Jumping on top of her, he covered her face and neck with kisses, scrabbled at the buttons on her shirt, and slavered lasciviously at the sight of her beautiful turquoise bra.
‘You pillock,’ Tara giggled, pushing him off. ‘You’re going to have to be much more romantic than that. I want to be wined and dined and made a huge fuss of, before we get down to any hanky-panky.’