tea, settling into the familiar routine with the relish of a nesting hen. ‘Dad says that our children are not our children, they’re sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself,’ she said.
Nan noticed Marigold’s use of the present tense and bit her tongue. She knew now not to correct her these days, even though the urge to do so was almost irresistible. ‘Your father said many wise things,’ she said instead.
‘That’s Khalil Gibran,’ said Dennis. ‘How clever of you to remember, Goldie.’
‘They come through us but are not from us, and although they are with us, they don’t belong to us,’ Marigold continued, soaking up Dennis’s praise. ‘Dad has always encouraged me to take my own path, whatever that may be.’
Dennis smiled broadly. ‘He’s right, of course. And I have always encouraged our girls to do the same. You go to Toronto, Daisy, without any regret. You’ll make a home of it with Taran.’
Marigold was confused. She was certain Daisy’s boyfriend was called Luca.
‘Dreadful city,’ repeated Nan.
‘Yes, I’ll make a home of it with Taran,’ Daisy said, her anxiety lifting at the sight of her mother’s gentle smile.
‘Home is where love is, dear,’ said Marigold. Then she turned and looked at Dennis.
Taran liked to leave the city on weekends and head to Muskoka, a large region of lakes, islands and mountains north of Toronto. He enjoyed hiking and canoeing, hanging out on the dock in the summer and snowshoeing and cross-country skiing in winter. He’d rented a small cottage from a client who owned a large estate in the hills and it was there that he took Daisy. Thirsty for the serenity of nature she drank in the big blue skies, the crystal water, the forests of ever-changing colour and the wild flowers that grew among the long grasses. She didn’t hanker for her English home because she’d made a home there with Taran and was perfectly content.
One weekend at the beginning of March Taran declared that he wanted to show her something special. He drove further into the hills, up a long dirt track, to a secluded place among the trees where a barn stood derelict and forlorn, staring out over the uninterrupted view of a lake. He took Daisy’s hand. ‘Do you think this would be a good place to build a house?’ he asked.
‘I think it would be amazing. Is it for a client?’
‘No.’ He turned to her and smiled. ‘It’s for you.’
Daisy was so taken aback that she laughed. ‘Ha ha, funny joke.’
‘I’m not joking. I want to build a house here with you. A house for us.’
Daisy stopped laughing. ‘You’re really not joking, are you?’
Without letting go of her hand he went down on one knee. Daisy felt a surge of emotion and pressed her palm to her chest to steady the sudden rush of fitful beating. He looked up at her, his eyes shiny and his cheeks suddenly flushed in the amber glow of sunset. ‘Daisy Fane, love of my life, will you marry me?’
Daisy knelt and took his face in her hands. She blinked away tears. ‘I would love to, Taran Sherwood, love of my life.’ She rested her forehead against his, then gently kissed his lips.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. ‘I bought this land a long time ago. I was just waiting for the right girl to share it with,’ he said. ‘Now I’ve found her.’
Daisy closed her eyes and allowed him to envelop her. Mum was right, she thought, cherishing the familiar feel of him. Here was where she belonged. Here with Taran.
Home is where love is.
Daisy and Taran were married in the village church in June. Lady Sherwood helped Daisy with the arrangements. She couldn’t help but draw parallels between their marriage and her own. While she had left Toronto and moved to England to marry Owen, Daisy was leaving England to move to Toronto to be with Taran. She’d secretly hoped that Daisy would entice her son back, but she understood that his business was there, as were so many of his childhood memories. But Taran had assured her that they’d move back eventually and she believed him.
Suze and Batty decorated the tent which had been put up in her garden for the reception and dinner dance. Nan was very impressed. It was much more glamorous than Suze’s reception had been. Taran’s friends and cousins flew in from Toronto and Patrick and Lucille came all the way from Sydney. There were two hundred