Aunt Daisy's Letter

by S J Crabb

  “We can – you do?”

  I stare at him in amazement as he laughs. “Love conquers all, doesn’t it? Maybe this could work. Who knows, we could find a way out of the madness and grab our happy ever after. It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

  Nodding like a madwoman, I jump impulsively into his arms and as they wrap around me and my legs wrap around him, we start laughing like crazy people as he runs me right out of the door and around the little courtyard. A passing builder looks at us in complete surprise and shakes his head muttering, “Fous britanniques.”

  I couldn’t care less what he said because all I care about is doing some kind of crazy dance with me in his arms. We can’t stop laughing and even the fact it’s starting to rain doesn’t deter us until I squeal, “Finn stop, I can’t believe it.”

  “What?”

  He looks concerned as I start laughing uncontrollably and then start singing at the top of my voice.

  ♫Rule Britannia!

  Britannia rule the waves.

  Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.

  Rule Britannia!

  Britannia rule the waves.

  Britons never, never, never shall be slaves. ♫

  He looks at me incredulously and I point to the sky.

  “Singing in the rain, it’s on the list, along with do something spontaneous.”

  “And you’re singing Rule Britannia, are you mad?”

  “Yes! Mad for life and bucket lists. Mad for adventure and new beginnings. Mad for France and mad for…”

  Breaking off, I say softly, “And mad for you.”

  This time I kiss him, softly, tenderly and with as much love as I can possibly pour into it because I want him to know how much he means to me.

  ♥32

  “I’m sorry, Lily.”

  His voice breaks and I battle to keep it together. Smiling bravely, I shrug. “It can’t be helped.”

  As I watch Finley zip up his large bag, it takes all my strength not to break down. He’s leaving.

  I still can’t believe I could go from being the happiest woman in the world to the saddest in twenty-four hours.

  I focus on a piece of peeling paint above the door frame and try not to think about what’s just happened.

  We were going to drive to Monaco today. We were so excited and had it all planned out. I even packed a picnic and was looking forward to a day of creating delicious memories with a man I’m crazy in love with. We were going to look for seashells on the beach and may even have ticked the skinny dipping off the list, although I’m not sorry that one’s unlikely to happen, it is January, after all.

  Then Finn got the call that burst our bubble. He’s got to go. I can’t even ask him where because he won’t tell me.

  “I’m so sorry, darling, this wasn’t meant to happen.”

  Trying to be brave, I say in a dull voice, “It’s fine, hopefully you’ll be home soon.”

  The silence answers my questions much more truthfully than words because I know he can’t tell me when that will be. All I know is that whatever Finn does for a living doesn’t follow the same rules as the rest of us. His job consumes his life and it’s only when the job is done, he gets to pick up where he left off.

  Ever since the call came through, he changed. Gone is the carefree joker who appeared to exist only to tease me and in its place is a very worried man indeed. Suddenly, he’s serious and pre-occupied. The humour has gone, and I can tell that something is weighing heavily on his mind. He won’t look me in the eye and I daren’t ask for details because I already know he won’t tell me any. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all; falling in love with a man of mystery because how can I ever really know the man if he won’t let me inside?

  I follow him dolefully around the little French gîte, as he removes all traces that he was ever here at all. I struggle to find words because they sound empty even as I think them, let alone throw them into the increasingly cold air between us.

  “There, all done.”

  Looking around, Finn appears to scan the room for anything but the look in my eyes and my heart bangs mercilessly inside me, screaming at me for daring to break it in such a foolhardy way.

  Looking sad, he takes my hands and looks so lost the tears escape and my lip starts to tremble. The pain in his eyes is too difficult to see as he says huskily, “Look after yourself until I can return and do it for you.”

  I nod and he pulls me tightly against him and I don’t feel as if I can breathe. Disappointment and fear choke me inside as I face the fact he may not be coming back. Don’t ask me why I think that, I just do. It’s as if my mind has a sixth sense where he’s concerned and something is telling me this is final.

  No words pass between us as Finlay kisses me with the desperation of a dying man’s last wish. My heart breaks and the pain is intense and I know that feeling will sit festering inside me until he returns to take it away. I can’t deal with this, it’s too hard and it’s as if he feels the same because he pulls roughly away and says tightly, “I’ve got to go. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”

  I watch him head to the door without a backward glance.

  I watch the door close softly behind him.

  I watch his shadow pass the window and hear the slamming of the car door.

  Then I hear the engine start and listen hard until the only sound I hear is the sound of my heart shattering on the cold flagstones beneath my feet.

  He’s gone, and I never even told him I loved him.

  ♥33

  Three months Later

  I smile at the pretty girl who is washing her hands as I venture into the washroom. She looks slightly nervous and I smile at her reassuringly. “It’s Stacey, isn’t it?”

  She nods and the flush to her cheeks shows me my comment is much appreciated.

  “You work in features with Joseph, am I right?”

  “Yes.” Her voice is nervous, and I wonder when things changed. Why didn’t I become that boss I thought I would be? So much for the open-door policy. Ever since I returned from France, minus my heart, I’ve changed. I started my new job and Sable left, and now it’s as if she’s never been here. I inherited all her problems and soon found myself floundering in them.

  My deputy editor is as arrogant as I always knew he would be and completely rubs me up the wrong way, but Mr Mitchell and Mr Stevens seem to love him. He’s always returning from his meetings with them with a triumphant gleam in his eye, showing me he’s after my job.

  I don’t care though. It shocked me to discover that this brave new world I always wanted to conquer is a box with nothing inside. It’s all shiny on the outside and promises great things, but when you open the lid, the only thing to be found is disappointment. Is this what drove Aunt Daisy to change direction? Maybe Sable dressed it up to aid her own escape from a life so dull it’s a job to drag myself in every day.

  As I look at my reflection in the washroom mirror, I almost don’t recognise the person staring back at me. Lily Rose Adams, the successful one of the family. Power dresser on a budget and rocking that managerial role as she was always meant to. Perfectly presented to an unforgiving world and outwardly in complete control. What they don’t see is the emptiness inside because it’s been three months to the day since I left France and still no word from Finn.

  I go through the motions and try not to dwell on the time when I was happy. Provence may as well be the moon because it’s doubtful I will ever return. Maybe that was my Aunt Daisy moment that will haunt me to my dying day. Maybe I will never find love again and substitute it with money and power to get my kicks another way. Who knows, Finn may well call when I’m in my fifties and tell me he had another wife all the time and now she’s left him we can be together. Does history really repeat itself, when one dies it passes to the next in line? It’s not something I want to dwell on, so I say brightly, “Are you working on anything good at the moment?”

  Stacey’s eyes light up, reminding me of my own eagerness fo
r the job not so long ago. “Yes, I’ve had a great idea for a feature embracing the use of recycling in the home. There are many uses for things we would otherwise send to landfill, and some can even be made into items that would make someone a comfortable living one day. It ticks all the boxes and Joseph said he would see what he could do.”

  Her enthusiasm brings a smile to my lips and I say warmly, “I will look forward to hearing the details.”

  She nods and then looks a little uncomfortable, so I smile and make my way into the private cubicle that allows me to shut the world out. Nobody can reach me in here because I am fast learning that being editor-in-chief means that you have to deal with everyone’s problems as well as your own.

  It’s true I now have more money than I ever had before. Three months in and my pay has doubled. If I stay at the job for years, I’ll have saved enough to do whatever I want, but then again, what’s the point? I don’t have anyone to do them with.

  Heidi is still away and even her messages don’t lift my spirits. All they do is remind me that she’s out there experiencing the joys of life with her soul mate. I am not. Mum and dad have gone on a cruise and their photographs also remind me they are living their best life while they can, I am not. Mark has decided to extend his stay in Australia because he is enjoying himself way too much, reminding me that I am not. Even nan and grandad are enjoying themselves because they’ve moved into the nearest Maccarthy Stone and have a social life I would kill for. Me, I don’t have a social life, I have work.

  As usual, I can’t hide away in the ladies for long and head back to my desk with a sinking feeling. We are behind on our deadline and I have an afternoon to look forward to where I strike the fear of God into the editorial staff so we can reach our targets.

  Sybil is hard at work as usual and is the only thing I inherited that’s of any value. She’s become just about the only friend I have left, and I think she’s getting a little worried about my interest in her social life. I crave every detail because I have none. I want to know where she’s been, who with and what she thinks about them. I need to know every detail of her life because mine is so empty. Sable was right, this job is all encompassing. I don’t have a minute to spare, and even at the weekends I’m poring over spreadsheets and ‘to do’ lists. It strikes me that all the fun in my life has gone and nothing is the same anymore.

  Sybil smiles when I pass and says lightly, “Would you like a coffee, Lily, I’m heading down there.”

  Nodding, I reach into my pocket and hand her a ten-pound note. “Thanks, my treat, it’s the least I can do if you go and get them.”

  She smiles her thanks and I think how sad my life has become that the only thing to look forward to is a large latte with full-fat milk. Sable would be disgusted at the amount of caffeine and carbs I consume on a daily basis, but we all have our likes and dislikes and this is the only comfort I have.

  Two o'clock comes and Joseph knocks on my glass door loudly and my heart sinks as I see his supercilious smile. “Come in.”

  He heads in and smirks as he takes his seat opposite me. “Good news oh great one, I’ve had a fabulous idea for a feature that will make everyone happy.”

  “Go on.”

  I resist yawning because just the sound of his voice bores me, but I have to suck it up because the problem I have with him lies with me. If I was being generous, he is actually very proactive and keen to succeed, so I can’t fault him on that. However, what I don’t like is the stories I hear of him talking down to his staff and reducing them to tears. The word around town is that nobody likes working for him because his remarks are as cutting as any sharp knife and nobody likes that in a person.

  “Ok, hold the front page because my idea is bang on trend.”

  I feel interested as I see the excitement in his eyes and say a little more agreeably, “I can’t wait to hear it.”

  “Well…” he leans forward and says in a hushed voice, “It involves recycling old items into new and giving them new life by applying a few designer touches. As you know, we are Designer Homes - on a budget, so what could be better? We showcase ways to reduce landfill and, in some cases, the people have made cottage industries out of their ideas.”

  I stare at him with a blank expression and say politely, “And you say this was your idea?” he nods, looking smug. “And nobody else helped you?”

  Shaking his head, he says emphatically, “Absolutely not, that bunch of airheads can’t see past their Instagram feed.”

  A cold feeling swamps me as I feel like stapling his smug smile to the wall, but I shrug instead and call through to Sybil. “Darling, can you ask Stacey to come in for a minute?”

  I relish the colour fading from Joseph’s cheeks as I stare at him with a hard look. “What, my Stacey? The little assistant who thinks she’s above everyone else.”

  He stares at me incredulously and says, “What do you want with her, surely anything you have to say should come through me?”

  I say nothing and just tap on my computer to make it look as if something important requires my attention, but inside I’m seething. How dare he take Stacey’s idea and pass it off as his own. He can’t even give her an ounce of credit and is taking it all for himself.

  It doesn’t take long before Stacey appears at the door, looking as if she’d rather be anywhere but here. I see the frown directed at her by her boss, and she appears scared of me for some reason.

  Smiling reassuringly, I point to the spare chair in the corner of the room. “Pull up a chair, Stacey and tell Joseph your idea that you told me in the ladies’ restroom.”

  Now Joseph looks as if he’s about to pass out and Stacey repeats what she told me and I hate the fear in her voice as she stutters in her delivery. Then I look at Joseph pointedly, who has the grace to look a little uncomfortable.

  Turning to Stacey, I smile. “That’s a fantastic idea. When did you say you discussed it with Joseph?”

  She glances sideways. “Um... this morning. I thought about it when I saw a programme on the discovery channel last night. Apparently, it’s a huge industry in America and people are really embracing it. They compared it to life after the war and the fact that people are rebelling against commercialism to save the planet. It was very interesting and I think it’s on catch up if you want to take a look.”

  “I may do that but if you don’t mind, please could you type up an outline and have it on my desk first thing tomorrow? I want to see sample copy and some of your ideas. Contacts, locations that type of thing.”

  She nods with excitement. “I would love to, thank you for the opportunity.”

  She looks at Joseph and smiles. “Thank you for putting my idea across, I’m so grateful.”

  She heads off happily and I look at Joseph sharply. “Well?”

  “Well, what? I heard her talking about the damned programme this morning and it was only when I put the idea in her head about the feature, it began to take shape. She may have seen the programme, but it was me who planted the idea in her head, so yes, I take full credit for that.”

  As I look at him in disbelief, I can tell he actually believes his own lies. He is so desperate to get the glory he’s forgotten it needs to be earned first. I’m not sure what to say, so I just point to the door. “Get out.”

  He looks surprised because I am not normally this rude, but he really rubs me up the wrong way.

  “What did you say?” he hisses in shock and I point to the door again. “I said get out and don’t come back until you learn some integrity. If I hear one more rumour about the way you treat your staff, I’m firing you on the spot. People like you make me sick. You’ve only got where you are on the backs of everyone else’s ideas and I’m sick of it.”

  “You can’t talk to me like that, I’ll report you.”

  “Do what you like, but you’ll only make yourself look bad. Now, get out and think up your own ideas in future and give credit where credit’s due. If you don’t like how we operate here, maybe you should start
looking for another job, somewhere where your talents would be appreciated.”

  Joseph storms out and slams the door and the rest of the staff look up in surprise. Sybil looks at me with a shocked expression because I have never lost my temper before.

  As I feel their scrutiny, I want to scream because being in this glass office is like living in a goldfish bowl.

  I stare at my computer screen and only see my misery reflected back at me. This is not what I wanted, I’m not enjoying this responsibility, and the only reason I can think of for my unhappiness is that Finn never came back.

  ♥34

  Another month passes before I get a call from Sable.

  “Lily, Sable here, are you free to talk?”

  “Of course, it’s good to hear from you.”

  Standing up, I close my door and sit facing the window. “How are things at the Château, I bet it’s amazing?”

  “Everything here is fine, which is why I’m calling, really.”

  “Go on.”

  I’m intrigued to hear how things have progressed and she says in her no-nonsense way, “I would like to invite you to visit, this weekend if possible. We could discuss a feature in the magazine which we could make a regular column. I was thinking along the lines of a development diary. You know the type of thing, from derelict to designer, what do you think?”

  “Sounds good.” I can sense the relief across the phone line as she says in a brighter voice, “I knew I could count on you, those people at Grand Designs are so short-sighted.”