Staying at Daisy's (25 page)

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.

‘Because she
does
want to!’ Daisy spread her arms in despair. ‘Look, Tara’s been through a rough patch lately. She completely lost confidence in herself. And then Dominic came along, laying on the charm, telling her how much he loves her and that he should never have married Annabel… and she’s flattered! She believes him!’

‘Oh, please. How old is this girl? Tara’s not sixteen anymore, she’s hardly Little Miss Innocent. We
both
know she isn’t innocent.’ Dev shook his head pityingly at Daisy. ‘Let’s face it, your friend Tara is the original good-time girl. I bet she’s loving every minute of it.’

‘He’s leading her on!’ Outraged, Daisy stopped dead in her tracks and yanked her arm free of Dev’s grasp. ‘I don’t believe this.
He’s
a complete bastard, and you’re
still
blaming Tara!’

They were only forty feet away from the hotel entrance now, and Dev lowered his voice.

‘Maybe she’s a complete bitch. Have you even stopped to consider that?’

‘How dare you!’ Daisy was too furious to care about how loud she was being. ‘You have a
bloody
nerve.’

‘OK, tell me something. If you met a man who’d only been married a few weeks, would you jump into bed with him?’

‘Of course I wouldn’t!’

‘Sure about that?’

‘I just wouldn’t. But it’s not the same thing.’

‘It’s exactly the same thing. Your friend is a tart and you’re trying to excuse her,’ Dev shot back. ‘You’re blaming
everyone
else—’

‘Not
everyone
else.’

‘Oh yes you are. You’re even trying to blame me, and I can’t for the life of me understand why.’

Daisy’s eyes blazed. She longed to punch him. It wasn’t fair, trying to argue with someone when you were drunk and they were stone-cold sober. And when they were disturbingly attractive and you had your wellies on the wrong feet.

‘So why don’t you tell me?’ Dev persisted. ‘Explain why you think it’s anything to do with me. And while we’re at it, tell me why you made it so obvious earlier that you didn’t want me staying here at your hotel.’

Shit. Shit. Shit, shit.

‘You’re a man. You’re Dominic’s friend. If you got married, you probably wouldn’t think twice about cheating on your wife.’ Gesturing wildly, Daisy began to sway. ‘You think Tara’s a tart but you don’t actually think Dominic’s done anything wrong—’ Whoops, she’d nearly gone over again. Dev’s arms shot out in the nick of time, grabbing her none too gently by the elbows and pulling her towards him.

‘I still don’t understand. Are you saying you don’t want me here because I’m a friend of Dominic’s? Or because I make you feel uncomfortable?’

Daisy could feel his warm breath on her face. He was teasing her, but not in a friendly way.

‘I… I…’ Pathetically, she couldn’t think of a smart reply.

‘Is that it?’ Dev’s dark eyes bored into hers as if he could see right through to her useless empty brain. ‘Are you bothered about me being here because you feel I’m a threat?’

Daisy swallowed. God, this was awful. ‘A threat to who? Tara?’ She felt herself begin to tremble.

‘I’m not talking about Tara and you know it.’ The corners of Dev’s mouth curled upwards and she prayed he couldn’t hear the frantic galloping of her heart. ‘I meant you and this new boyfriend of yours. I could kiss you right now.’ He paused, his gaze never wavering from her face. ‘So. Do you want me to?’

Silence. Utter silence. Apart from her stupid heart, of course, still carrying on like a herd of stampeding wildebeest.

‘No thanks,’ Daisy managed to blurt out.

Dev smiled. ‘Are you sure?’

God, he was so convinced he was irresistible!

‘Quite sure.’ Daisy freed her arms and took a step back. ‘In fact, I’m
this
sure.’ Raising her right hand, she slapped him hard across the face. ‘So thanks for the offer, but I’m really not interested. To be honest, I’d prefer it if you’d just
leave me alone
.’

Barney raced down the steps and across the drive. Right, that was it, he’d seen and heard enough.

‘Hey, you, you heard her! Leave her alone,’ he bellowed at the dark-haired man whose face Daisy had just slapped. For the last few minutes he’d been watching the two of them through the glass-paneled entrance door. Now he rushed up to Daisy—who was clearly in a state of shock—and said urgently, ‘It’s OK, you’re safe. Just get inside, I’ll deal with this.’

‘Barney, it’s—’ Daisy began, but he wasn’t going to let her try to play the matter down—he’d seen the slap and heard the louder parts of their heated argument. Pumped up with adrenaline, Barney swung her round and pushed her firmly in the direction of the main doors. As she obediently set off, he noticed a small dog racing across the grass to join her. When Daisy bent to greet the dog, Barney also noticed that her feet were looking distinctly odd. Then he turned back to glare at the dark-haired stranger from whose clutches he had rescued Daisy.

‘This is private property. If you don’t go, I’ll call the police.’ For a wild moment, he wondered if he would have to punch him.

The stranger smiled and raised his hands. ‘Look, I didn’t jump out of a hedge and attack her. Daisy and I do know each other.’

‘You were holding her against her will. She didn’t seem very happy in your company,’ Barney persisted, though his heart sank a fraction. ‘I think the best thing you can do is just leave.’

‘The trouble is, I’m a guest here. My name’s Dev Tyzack,’ said the man. ‘I’m staying in Room Six.’

This time Barney’s heart plummeted. This was his first week of night shifts and he’d never seen the man before. But then why should that make any difference?

‘I don’t care if you’re a guest. You were upsetting Daisy and I won’t let that happen.’ Barney’s voice began to tremble with emotion.

‘Very commendable. I’m sure she’ll be impressed by your loyalty. Who knows,’ Dev Tyzack’s tone was light, almost teasing, ‘this could mean promotion.’

‘Do you seriously think that’s why I came out here?’ A fresh wave of irritation bubbled up inside Barney. How dare this man make fun of him? ‘I’d do anything in the world for Daisy,’ he went on defiantly. ‘I don’t
want
promotion, that has nothing to do with it. She’s a wonderful person and she saved my life.’

Dev smiled slightly at this overblown announcement, made with such passion and sincerity. It was touching, in a way, that Daisy was able to inspire such devotion in her staff. The young porter standing before him in his white shirt, dark blue waistcoat, and smartly pressed trousers looked too fresh and wholesome to even know what drugs were, but Dev guessed that this was what the boy was talking about. Either drink or drugs had blighted his life, until Daisy had helped him through it, given him a second chance.

Curious, Dev said, ‘How did she do that?’

Barney hesitated, shivering in the cold night air. Then he told him.

Oooh, headache. Daisy, at her desk the next morning, scrabbled in the back of the drawers until she found a half-empty packet of aspirin. Washing a couple down with water, she massaged her temples. The pain was self-inflicted and she was just going to have to ignore it. Vince was off on leave and she had a job to be getting on with, a hotel to run.

Not to mention last night’s embarrassing altercation to put behind her. God, that had been awful, she couldn’t believe she’d got herself into such a mess. And short of murdering Dev Tyzack in his bed—or preferably hiring a friendly hit man to do the honors—she didn’t have a clue how she was going to get herself out of it.

Oh well, it could have been worse. At least she hadn’t kissed him.

Ten minutes later there was a knock at the door. Daisy hastily hid the bacon sandwich she hadn’t been able to face eating in her desk drawer, in case it was Brenda returning to take away her empty plate. Brenda could nag for England on the importance of eating a good breakfast.

‘Who is it?’ Daisy hurriedly switched on her computer in order to look busy and prayed it wouldn’t be Dev.

The door swung open a couple of inches, then stopped. Daisy sat and stared at it. She heard something crackle, followed by the sound of determined scratching. As she watched, a small hairy paw slid through the gap, nudging the door open by another inch or two.

More crackling at floor level, then Clarissa’s nose appeared. An enthusiastic waggle of her body and she made it through the door, a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of deep pink roses clamped between her teeth.

Having dragged the bouquet halfway across the carpet, Clarissa promptly abandoned the flowers and jumped up onto Daisy’s lap. Scooping the dog into her arms, Daisy went to retrieve them. With her free hand, she ripped open the envelope stapled to the cellophane.

It said: My owner is very,
very
sorry. He’s waiting outside the door, if you want to see him. If you don’t want to, he’ll leave the hotel. I know he’s an idiot, but I’d be grateful if you’d speak to him. I like it here. Love, Clarissa.

Impressed, Daisy looked at Clarissa. ‘Your handwriting is excellent.’

‘Woof.’ Clearly in agreement, Clarissa licked her ear.

‘I want you to know, I’m only doing this for you.’

Clarissa wagged her stumpy tail in appreciation.

‘Better come in then,’ said Daisy, loudly enough to be heard outside the office.

Well, she hated awkward situations. At least this way they could get it over with. They were both adults, after all. And he had said sorry first.

God, hope he doesn’t have a bright red hand-shaped slap mark on his face.

Dev walked into the office and at the sight of him Daisy’s stomach promptly launched into a Mexican wave. He was wearing a pale grey cashmere sweater, faded jeans, and snow-encrusted Timberlands. His dark hair flopped over his forehead and his face was… well, his face. He was definitely far too handsome. Nobody, Daisy thought, should be allowed to be that attractive. More to the point, nobody should be silly enough to get involved with someone that attractive.

‘I really am sorry.’ Dev came straight to the point. ‘I should never have said what I said last night.’

‘And I suppose I shouldn’t have slapped you.’ To Daisy’s relief, there was no bright red slap mark.

‘It was justified.’ He shook his head, clearly intent on taking all the blame—which was fine by her. ‘I was out of order.’

‘Where did you get the flowers?’ Daisy was intrigued despite herself. It was only nine thirty and this definitely wasn’t the kind of bouquet you picked up at the nearest petrol station for a fiver.

‘They were delivered this morning for Paula Penhaligon. I intercepted them, decided you deserved them more than she did.’

‘Oh my God, you didn’t!’

‘Of course not.’ Dev smiled at the look of horror on her face. ‘If you must know, I drove into Bath at eight o’clock this morning.’

Daisy was delighted by this gesture—all the way into Bath just for flowers!—until she realized he’d probably had to check on his house anyway.

‘By the way, just to get something straight.’ She felt compelled to say it. ‘Tara didn’t jump into bed with Dominic. She hasn’t slept with him, and she isn’t going to.’ Fingers crossed.

‘Fine. Whatever. I don’t want any more arguments.’ Dev held up his hands. ‘I especially don’t want to argue about Tara and Dominic. Your porter,’ he went on, changing the subject, ‘the one who came to your rescue last night. It’s good to have someone like that working for you.’

‘His name’s Barney.’

Dev nodded. ‘He did well. For a moment there I thought he was going to punch me.’

Daisy, who had been perched on the edge of her desk holding Clarissa, began to relax. Bending down, she put Clarissa on the floor.

‘Barney’s great. All the guests love him.’

‘He told me about your husband,’ said Dev.

Oh.

Not that it was a secret or anything, but Daisy still tensed.

‘And?’ As she said it, she felt the heat rushing to her cheeks. Clarissa, meanwhile, was snuffling feverishly, desperate to get at whatever was inside the desk drawer.

‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.’ Dev shook his head. ‘I had no idea.’

‘Why should you?’ Daisy hated it when this happened. The sympathy thing. She felt such a fraud.

‘You might have mentioned it.’

‘Why?’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Does it make a difference? Would you have been nicer to me?’

‘I suppose I would.’ He smiled slightly at this admission.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Daisy heaved a sigh. ‘We were only technically married. I’d already asked Steven for a divorce when he was killed. So I’m not the grieving tragic widow, if that’s what you were thinking. But Barney doesn’t know, I didn’t want to dash his illusions.’ She grimaced. ‘It didn’t seem right to tell him that the man whose kidney he got was actually a lying, no-good tosspot.’

Bacon sandwich, it smelt like a bacon sandwich. Clarissa frantically pawed at the desk drawer.

Daisy bent down, slid the drawer open, took out the bacon sandwich and gave it to Clarissa.

‘Got any mushrooms and fried tomatoes in there?’ Amused, Dev peered over the desk at the opened drawer. Then more seriously, said, ‘What was he like?’

‘Steven? Very confident, totally sure of himself, extremely good-looking. Out for whatever he could get,’ Daisy went on, wondering if the description was ringing any bells with Dev. ‘Charming. Deceitful. Oh, and he was unfaithful too.’

‘Why—’

‘Because he was a bastard!’

‘I meant why did you marry him?’ said Dev.

‘Oh well, that’s simple. I fell for it, didn’t I? The charm, the looks, the whole package. He was very persuasive.’ Daisy twisted her fingers together. ‘I even believed him when he told me he had a rare kind of cancer that could only be treated in America. He said he needed twenty thousand pounds to pay for it and I
still
believed him, but there you go, that’s what it’s like being married to a con artist.’ She spread her hands in disgust. ‘It never even occurred to me that the real reason he wanted twenty grand was so he could take his new girlfriend off to America for a really nice holiday.’

Daisy stopped. That was quite a little outburst. Why hadn’t she just let Dev carry on thinking she’d been happily married?

But she hadn’t been able to do that. For some reason she needed him to know the truth. Even if it did make her look stupid.

‘Well, I’m sorry. Either way, you’ve been through a lot. And I’m also sorry about last night.’ Dev waited, then said, ‘Look, I’d like to do something to make up for that. I’ve been sent a couple of tickets…’ Pulling them from his back pocket, he handed them over.

‘For Saturday. At Twickenham. The Six Nations Cup,’ Daisy read aloud. ‘VIP seats.’

‘England are going for the Grand Slam,’ Dev explained. ‘And there’s a big dinner afterwards, I’ve been invited to that too. Should be good fun. So what d’you think? Could you take the day off?’ He was smiling, looking pleased with himself.

Daisy knew exactly what she thought. Rugby. Played outside, in the bitter cold. Lots of mud-covered men grunting and hurling themselves at each other, chasing an oval ball that couldn’t even bounce in a straight line.
And
frozen feet, she reminded herself. Sitting on a hard plastic seat surrounded by roaring supporters all singing and swaying out of time with each other.

For heaven’s sake, was Dev Tyzack mad? She’d rather drill out her own wisdom teeth with a Black & Decker.

‘Thanks.’ Daisy smiled, to spare his feelings. ‘But I don’t think so. Josh might not be very happy—’

‘It’s a friendly invitation, that’s all. Josh doesn’t have to worry about my motives. I just thought you might enjoy it.’

Oh yes, about as much as being forced to eat sheep’s eyeballs.

‘I may have to work anyway,’ lied Daisy. ‘You’d better take someone else. But thanks for the flowers.’

Clarissa, sensing that it was time to leave, barked twice and trotted over to Dev.

He nodded. ‘And Clarissa says thanks for the bacon sandwich.’

***

Daisy had been right about one thing. When Josh phoned and she told him about Dev’s invitation, he wasn’t happy. In fact, she’d never known him so furious.

‘He invited you
where
?’ Josh bawled down the phone from Kitzbühel. ‘Bloody hell, I don’t believe this! To the Six Nations Cup
and
to the official dinner afterwards? What did you
say
to him?’

‘I turned him down.’ Pleased with herself, Daisy thought how lovely it was to have a clear conscience. Smugly she added, ‘I said I didn’t think you’d be very happy about it.’

‘Damn right I’m not happy,’ roared Josh. ‘Good grief, are you out of your mind? Those VIP tickets are like gold dust, you’re missing out on the chance of a lifetime. I can’t
believe
you were stupid enough to turn him down. Go and find Dev Tyzack this minute,’ he ordered, ‘and tell him you’ve changed your mind.’

‘I will not,’ Daisy said crossly. ‘I’m not interested in a boring old rugby game. Anyway, I told him he’d have to invite someone else.’

‘On Saturday? We’ll be back by then.’ Josh brightened. ‘If I dress up in a long wig and a short skirt and promise to have sex with him, d’you think he’d take me?’