Daisy's Secret (19 page)

Exactly as her father had done, he claimed to have misheard her. ‘I’m not sure I quite got that, Laura.’

She mustn’t let him bully her. Hadn’t she stood up to Robert firmly enough, and could do the same against Felix, if she held her nerve. Laura knew it was the only way to survive. Going back to life as she had known it at Cheadle Hulme, after catching a glimpse of what it could be here at Lane End Farm, was quite out of the question. ‘Oh, I think you did. Daisy left the house to me.
Me
! And I don’t want to sell it. Which is my choice to make.’

He was spluttering with fury, pacing the kitchen like a caged lion, pausing occasionally to fling some fresh insult at her, about how stupid she was, how ineffectual, how she could never cope without him, how she depended upon him entirely. ‘Hell’s teeth, I’ll not let you get away with this. You’ll ruin my reputation, my business, for God’s sake, with this childish act of rebellion. You think you can go over my head as if this house has nothing at all to do with me, when we’ve been married all these years?’

‘You know that I’m always interested in your opinion, Felix, but my decision is final.’ Laura put on her brightest, hostess smile. ‘Now, to more practical concerns. Have you eaten? Would you like some dinner? Oh, and if you were thinking of staying the night, due to the whisky and the worsening weather, I could make up a bed in one of the spare bedrooms. Otherwise, you might care to call a taxi, while the roads are still reasonably clear, and leave now.’

‘You’re selfish, do you know that?’ he roared. ‘Always were. It’s me, me, me. That’s all you care about. You haven’t the first idea what you’ve done, have you Laura?’

‘Oh yes, I know exactly what I’ve done, and what I’m going to do next.’ Laura was reaching for a jar of basmati rice but managed to withhold the quip that she’d just made some chilli con carne and now intended to make the rice. This wasn’t the moment for silly jokes.

Perhaps he guessed her thoughts from the light hearted tone of her voice for he snatched the jar from her hand and threw it with all his might. It hit the kitchen dresser which stood against the opposite wall, where it smashed into a dozen pieces, scattering shards of pottery all over the flagged floor, taking with it several broken cups, saucers, plates and other items, the rice going everywhere.

‘Dear God!’ Laura put her hand to her mouth, heart racing with real fear.

Swinging round on his heel, he grabbed her by the arm and shook her violently, like a dog. For an instant she thought that he was about to fling her in the same direction when a voice from the door paralysed them both.

‘I think it’s time you left, don’t you? Don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clear it up.’

Laura could hardly believe her eyes but she’d never been more pleased to see anyone in all her life. David Hornsby stood in the open doorway, looking perfectly relaxed, and as if he had every right to be there. His sheepskin coat was covered with a light scattering of snow which now he casually began to unbutton. He tugged the woollen hat from his head and unwound the loose scarf knotted about his neck but the benign smile on his face was entirely at odds with the light of grim determination in the blue eyes.

She whispered his name in a mix of wonder and relief, at exactly the same moment as Felix yelled: ‘
Who the hell are you
?’

David merely smiled and dumped his wet clothing into the utility room opposite, giving the impression he’d been doing that for years, which he probably had, Laura thought, whenever he came to see Daisy. Ignoring Felix completely, he walked calmly over to Laura and amiably remarked, ‘Hm, something smells good. I did come on the right night, didn’t I? Only, with seeing the car outside, I did wonder.’

Laura somehow managed to swallow the bolt of hysterical laughter that had come into her throat. He was telling her that he’d seen the car, been concerned, and, as before, had walked in bold as brass, just to check she was OK. In any other circumstances she’d have called that arrogant. ‘Yes, yes, of course. Dinner won’t be long. This is my husband, Felix. He’s rightly anxious about the threat of snow which looks as if its started already. Is it bad?’ Felix still held her wrist in a punishing grip but, shaking herself free of his hold, she moved back to the cooker to check on the chilli.

‘Quite a covering up on the high fells but the main roads are still clear, for now. I certainly face a cold night ahead, checking on my stock.’

It was all so civilised it was almost laughable, were it not for Felix seething silently beside her it might well have seemed like the start of a pleasant dinner party. Laura turned to him with a smile, determined to maintain the charade. ‘I assume you’ll want to be on your way then, Felix, before it gets too bad. You won’t want to risk not being able to get to the gallery in the morning. Oh, sorry, I was forgetting. This is my neighbour, David Hornsby. He rents, or owns, much of the land around here and has promised to help me find out more about Daisy.’

David acknowledged the introduction with a brisk nod but did not offer to shake hands. Laura could tell by the narrowness of his gaze that Felix had been weighing up his options, toying with the notion of planting a fist on David’s jaw but had begun to reconsider. Bullying a wife was easily within his grasp, tackling a fit, well-muscled male would not, perhaps, be quite so wise.

Ignoring the introduction, he strode to the door. ‘Stay on for a while longer then, if that’s what you want, and see where it gets you. A few months in this freezing hell hole with only the company of peasants and you’ll be begging to return to me and civilisation. You’ll come to your senses Laura, I know it.’ He slammed out of the house, gunned up the engine and roared off down the lane at cracking speed. Laura sank into a chair she was shaking so badly.

‘Feeling better? Or do you need more of this?’ Dinner was over, although Laura had found her appetite quite gone and she’d eaten very little. They’d demolished one bottle of wine already and David was holding up another, a quirk of one eyebrow asking her consent to open it.

‘Why not? Drowning my sorrows seems like quite a good idea.’

‘I’ll allow you another glass if you eat up your dinner like a good girl.’

‘Don’t call me that.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He looked startled by the snappy response to his joke, as well he might. It was so unlike her.

Laura stared gloomily down at her plate. ‘I’m sorry too. It’s not you that I’m angry with, so I’ve no right to take out my bad temper on you.’

He set the bottle to one side and sat down beside her. ‘You’re not in a temper. I couldn’t imagine you ever being, but you are upset and have a right to be so. Any man who treats his wife in that fashion doesn’t deserve to have one.’

‘Nor will he have for much longer. That’s what made Felix so angry. I told him about my decision to stay, which of course will mean divorce.’

‘So be it! You deserve better.’

She turned and looked into his eyes. They were the palest shade of blue outlined with a rim of darker blue around the iris, gazing at her with such an intensity that Laura found it impossible to break away. Even when he did so, it was only to allow his gaze to move over her face, her hair, seeming to take in every detail of her appearance, as if forming a picture he never wanted to forget, finally fastening on her mouth. Laura could hardly breathe. Did she want this? Was she ready for it? He seemed to be drawing imperceptibly nearer and for the life of her, she couldn’t pull away. When his lips reached hers, she simply closed her eyes and succumbed, allowing him to kiss her without protest, finding it quite impossible to resist. It wasn’t just his good looks, or the way he had come so gallantly to her aid, but his gentleness and consideration, the tenderness of his touch, even his warm good humour.

And some indefinable and undeniable chemistry between them.

For the first time in years she wanted a man other than her husband to touch her, to kiss her. Did she want more than that? Was she prepared to break her marriage vows just because she’d finally decided on a divorce? Her mind whirling and emotions spinning out of control, in that moment Laura couldn’t have answered her own questions. She knew only that she didn’t want the kiss ever to end.

When it did, when he still hadn’t laid a finger on her, she let out a small sigh of regret. David smiled, a warm smile that seemed to embrace her, telling her far more than mere words could. Words, she felt, would have been inadequate, unnecessary in the magical intensity of the moment. David must have felt the same for he said: ‘I can’t think of anything to say except something truly naff and clichéd like: did anyone ever tell you how lovely you are?’

‘Why don’t you say it then?’ she whispered. ‘Maybe I like those sort of clichés.'

‘And maybe I should be on my way before I run the risk of taking advantage of the situation.’

‘What situation?’

‘Your delicate emotional state, and increasing inebriation on a largely empty stomach.’

Laura gave a soft chuckle. ‘Must you go? I’m prepared to take the risk, if you are.’

He gave a low groan, put a hand to her shoulder then instantly withdrew it, as if the mere touch of her was more than he could bear. ‘Don’t tempt me. Besides, I must check the sheep.’

He got up to go. Laura followed him to the door, helped him button on the sheep-skin jacket, turned up his collar and hooked the scarf loosely about his neck. Her heart was racing and she couldn’t have spoken, even had she found the right words. She stood gripping the scarf, knowing that her eyes were asking, pleading with him to stay; to forget the weather, the sheep, Felix, everything but their own need; revealing all too clearly her own vulnerability. He gathered her face between his hands and kissed her again, deeper this time with a hint of the passion which was to come. She melted against him, made to reach her arms up around his neck but he gently prevented her, capturing them with his own and finally stepping away from her with a small shake of his head, his face suddenly serious.

‘If, or when, we do get together, you and I, and I certainly hope that it is the latter, I want it to be when you’ve had time to give proper consideration to the implications, and you are stone-cold sober. Good night, lovely Laura. Lock the door after me, and take extra-special care of yourself.’

Chapter Eleven

Britain responded to the deepening crisis by taking down signposts, painting out names on railway stations and other hoardings, and issuing a list of instructions and new regulations.

Daisy was particularly alarmed by the one which said that ‘all persons could be required to place themselves, their services, and their property at the disposal of the Government.’ Did that mean she too might be moved, whether she liked it or not? She wasn’t concerned about leaving the Chapmans particularly, but desperately needed to stay close to Megan and Trish, as well as not wanting to move too far away from Harry.

Not that she’d have minded in the least if the government had decided to move her to a different job. She hated working in Mr Chapman’s office. He still insisted on coming in to see her in the post room at frequent intervals, fetching her a warming mug of tea or leaning close over her shoulder, breathing down her neck while he checked that she was addressing the envelopes correctly. Often he would ask her to stay on to help him with what he termed ‘a few end of the day tasks’, on the premise that she could be taken home in style, in his Morris car, afterwards.

There was something about the prospect of being confined with Mr Chapman in a motor car which did not appeal and Daisy always refused, saying she had to hurry home to do her chores for Mrs Chapman, so that she could then go and help look after the children next door.

‘You’ve taken on far too much, Daisy dear. You’ll wear yourself out.’

‘I enjoy it. I wouldn’t do it otherwise.’

But one day, finally beaten down by his persistent persuasion, she agreed to stay behind. She was helping everyone else, why not Mr Chapman? Daisy spent an extra hour or more at the end of her normal work shift, cleaning out his desk and tidying his filing cabinet, which wasn’t easy with him still using them. If she opened a drawer he would suddenly appear at her elbow, pressing up close as he reached in the cabinet for a file. She only had to move an inch in the wrong direction and he would choose the exact same moment to move too and they’d collide, which was unnerving, or she’d trip over a pile of files and scatter them everywhere and he’d then have to help her tidy them all up.

His size seemed to grow alarmingly in the small, cluttered office, and the smell of his sweat became overpowering.

‘You’re a good girl,’ he told her. ‘But I believe you’re tired. Let’s go home and you can finish this job tomorrow.’

The thought of another late session in his office was depressing but it was with a vast sense of relief that Daisy watched while he locked the office door and they finally headed homeward. Except that the car wasn’t waiting for him outside the office, as it should have been. After several telephone calls, Mr Chapman was hugely affronted to discover that it had been driven away by the police, all because he’d left it parked on the street all day without locking the doors, also leaving the key in the ignition.

‘I have been leaving it there for years,’ he shouted at the young constable who had the misfortune to inform him of this fact. ‘No one would dare to steal my car.’

‘Well, happen a German soldier might, Mr Chapman, him not knowing how important you are,’ the young constable tactfully commented.