‘What’s going on with you?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ Daisy replied quickly.
Suze narrowed her eyes. ‘I know you well enough to know when “nothing” means “something”.’
‘Taran’s asked me for a drink.’
Nan sucked the air through her lips. ‘Where’s he taking you?’
‘Like a date?’ Suze asked.
‘It’s only at the pub. Nothing special and no, it’s not a date.’
Suze grinned mischievously. ‘Just two friends going for an innocent drink. Sure it’s a date, silly!’
‘A date!’ repeated Nan, looking uncharacteristically positive. ‘About time you got back into the game, Daisy. After a break-up like yours the trick is to only look forward, never to look back.’
‘And you know about that, do you, Nan?’ said Suze, arching an eyebrow.
‘You could say I’m something of a dark horse, Suze. If I had looked back, I’d never have married your grandfather. I’d have married little Barry Bryce – he was always called “little” even though he was over six feet tall.’ She screwed up her nose and shook her head. ‘Barry went off to live in Bodrum and got eaten by a shark, I think. Never look back, Daisy. I’d have been a widow at twenty-six and Grandad would never have known my charm and wit.’
Daisy laughed and went off to change out of her funeral clothes.
‘Where’s she going then?’ asked Nan.
‘Forward,’ said Suze. ‘She’s going to show Taran her charm and wit.’
Chapter 17
Daisy arrived a little late at the pub. She hadn’t intended to, only Marigold had lost something and they had all had to help her search for it. The trouble was, she couldn’t remember what it was that she had lost, just that it was important. This had made the search almost impossible. It wasn’t her phone, or her keys, or her handbag. They couldn’t imagine what it could be.
Daisy had gone through her mother’s pockets and found a little notebook in one of her cardigans. When she had shown it to her, Marigold had held it in her hands as if it were a wounded bird. ‘That’s it,’ she had said, the worry expelled in a breath. ‘I won’t lose it again.’ But even she had known that wasn’t likely.
When Daisy appeared in the pub, Taran was perched on a stool at the bar with what looked like a glass of whisky in front of him. He had changed into a dark grey T-shirt and jacket. He smiled, the same dashing smile he had given her before his father’s death had diminished it. ‘You came,’ he said, looking surprised.
‘Of course I came,’ she replied. She took the stool beside him.
‘What’ll you have?’ he asked.
She would normally have gone for a glass of wine, but there was something about Taran that made her want to drink something less conservative. ‘A G&T, please,’ she replied.
Taran called the barman over. The barman, who Daisy knew from growing up in the village and attending the same secondary school, greeted her enthusiastically and with some surprise. It was the first time she’d been into the pub since she’d come back from Italy. ‘Are you here to stay?’ he asked, looking at her appreciatively.
‘I’m not sure,’ Daisy replied, recalling her conversation with Luca. ‘Perhaps.’
‘Well, it’s nice to see you back,’ he said and went to make her drink.
‘I think you’ve unintentionally become Mother’s personal assistant,’ said Taran with a grin. ‘And I don’t imagine she’s paying you for your services.’
‘I just helped out for the funeral. She won’t need me now.’
‘Oh, I expect she will. She thinks you’re marvellous.’ The barman put the G&T in front of her. ‘You’ll be even more indispensable now, as she’s going to be lonely without Dad.’
Daisy frowned at him. ‘Why don’t you move back so you can be close to her?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve made my life in Canada.’
‘You can always change your life.’
‘I can, but I don’t want to.’
‘You have one of the most beautiful estates in England. I know, I walk there every day, and your mother won’t be around for ever.’
‘I know that.’ He made a face which alluded to things he wasn’t prepared to discuss. ‘It’s difficult,’ he said.
She took a sip of her drink. ‘Look, it’s none of my business. I’m just very pleased I came back from Italy at a time when my parents needed me.’
He arched an eyebrow. ‘Are they okay?’
‘Mum’s not great. She’s becoming very forgetful and disorientated. I fear it’s the start of something serious.’
Taran nodded, guessing what she feared but not wanting to articulate it. ‘Life gets more serious the older we get, doesn’t it?’