long as her mother was unwell and her father needed her help, for ever was not going to happen.
Taran was pacing the room in nothing but a pair of stripy pyjama bottoms, one hand on his head, the other holding the telephone to his ear. When Daisy heard the words ‘land’ and ‘sell’, her ears pricked up. She stood behind the marbletopped island and listened. ‘How far do you think we are from getting planning permission?’ There was a long pause while the person on the other end of the line replied. It was clearly not a simple thing to answer. ‘I’m going to take on the project myself,’ he continued. ‘It’s what I do. I’ll relish the challenge.’ Again, another pause. Taran’s face darkened. ‘Those bloody highway people!’ he snapped. ‘They’re going to hold everything up. English councils are so slow. You’d have thought they’d be desperate for houses. The last time I heard, there was a housing crisis in the UK!’ He noticed Daisy and his face softened. He smiled at her. How could he smile, she thought, knowing how much that land meant to her family? She stood frozen to the spot as he discussed selling and developing the land he had inherited from his father, the land that bordered her parents’ garden; the land her mother loved so much.
At last he hung up. ‘Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,’ he said, and approached her.
She looked at him in confusion. ‘What’s this about developing land?’
He didn’t seem to notice how upset she was. ‘Oh, boring stuff.’ He put his arms around her. ‘Let’s go back to bed.’
‘No, wait. You said you weren’t going to sell your land.’
Taran frowned. A shadow of irritation swept across his face as he registered her fury and was confused by it. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘The farm.’ Her eyes filled with tears. Taran had lied to her. In her heart she had believed him when he had said ‘for ever’.
‘I’m not selling the farm.’
‘But you said—’
‘You’ve picked up a fag-end, and you know what happens to people who pick up fag-ends?’
‘Taran, this is not a joke.’
He looked down at her and put his hands on his hips. ‘I am selling a farm, but not the farm you think.’
‘Is there another one?’
‘Dad also had a farm in the Midlands. It never made much, in fact, most of the time it made a loss. He had already started the process of developing it before he died. Anyhow, it’s mine now and I’m going to develop it myself. I don’t want to live up there and neither does Mum.’ He grinned at her. ‘But of course, if you want to live there . . .’
She couldn’t help but smile. ‘I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.’
‘It would be your business if I was considering selling the land that your parents’ house looks out onto. But I would never do that.’
‘You really wouldn’t? Do you promise?’
‘My darling Daisy, my father loved that land more than anything in the world. He probably loved it more than he loved people. It was his life and his passion and it’s my home. I don’t want to live there now, but one day I will.’ He took her face in his hands and gazed down at her with affection. ‘And you love it too.’
‘Yes, I do,’ she said, holding on to his casual allusion to eventually moving back and hoping that he meant it.
‘Game, set and match, then. I’ll guard it with my life.’
She laughed as he swept her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom. ‘Now, what was I saying? Ah yes, do you know what happens to people who eavesdrop?’
Daisy left for England with a heavy heart. She felt she was leaving sunshine and going back to fog. The images of cooking pasta in Taran’s apartment, placing flowers by the sink, nipping into the deli to buy supper evaporated like dreams eclipsed by the reality of her mother’s failing health and her unwavering sense of duty. On the plane, her worries returned to her in flurries and her heart pined for Taran. She was in an impossible situation. Why was it that the only two men she had lost her heart to in her life lived abroad? Why couldn’t she find a man who lived close to home, like Suze? She was in her mid-thirties and living at home. Having spent a week with Taran, she longed for her independence again. She yearned to have