Page 60 of The Only Way Is Up

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

In the end it was Daisy who ended up doing most of the festive cooking and preparation, because Stella decided to go to church at 9.30 on Christmas morning to show support for Miriam. As far as Daisy knew, Stella had never been to church for anything other than a wedding or a funeral, but it gave Daisy a peaceful couple of hours in the kitchen to make a trifle and peel vegetables while listening to ‘Carols from Kings’ on the radio, watched beadily by Hank. She reached down to scratch between his ears every few minutes, remembering that he needed lots of love and attention. At least one of them was getting some. Her thoughts drifted to Tom, then she berated herself for thinking about him. But even as she put on a dress and proper makeup for the first time since she’d arrived in Shipton Combe, she found herself wondering if he’d like this slightly more polished look, or was actually quite taken with the everyday version.

Ruby called mid-morning – she and Simon were joining Des Parker and his family for Christmas lunch. Daisy felt a pang of longing to be immersed in festive spirit with her friends and family, but also knew there would be too many questions, too many concerned looks. She’d finish the project she’d set herself when she arrived in Shipton Combe, then go back to London with renewed focus and energy. If she left now, she’d probably never come back.

‘Merry Christmas!’ shouted Stella as she opened the front door, telling someone else to hang their coat on the hook. Daisy took a deep breath and headed through to the lounge, wondering if Stella had somehow persuaded Justin to go to church with her. But it wasn’t Justin, or even Tom. For reasons best known to herself, Stella had brought the Reverend Miriam Mayhew back with her.

‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Miriam said sheepishly. ‘Your mother absolutely insisted I join you for lunch.’

‘She was going to eat alone,’ said Stella in an undertone. ‘I thought we could easily find an extra place at our humble festive table.’ She delivered this with the gravitas of Kenneth Branagh at the RSC, like suddenly they were a refuge for the single and lonely of Shipton Combe.

‘Of course.’ Daisy reminded herself of how helpful Miriam had been in keeping her mother occupied and forced herself to think charitable thoughts. There was plenty of food, and at least it provided another buffer against Tom.

‘I brought you a present,’ said Tom a couple of hours later, as he and Justin bustled through the door and Henry immediately bagged a space on the sofa next to Hank. Tom was holding a tiny Christmas tree in a pot, tied with a red ribbon and decorated with miniscule baubles and lights. ‘I thought you might not have one, since you only got back a few days ago.’

Daisy took the tree and blinked away tears, recognising it as a peace offering. Tom had worked through his issues over the news story about her and Christian and decided to surrender gracefully. She adored him for it, but also felt immeasurably sad that this was the way it had to be between them.

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. ‘By the time I went to Waitrose yesterday there was nothing nice left, so I don’t have a single decoration.’ She leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek, giving his arm a squeeze for good measure. He smelled of lemony soap and shampoo, without a hint of designer aftershave or skincare and hair products. Most of the men in Daisy’s life smelled expensive; Christian’s skin and haircare regime took twenty minutes every day, and she’d never really appreciated the appeal of someone who just smelled . . . clean. Her mind briefly wondered what Tom might look like naked, and she had a sudden urge to kick everyone else out and bundle him up the stairs.

‘Should I open some fizz?’ asked Justin, grinning gleefully. Daisy blushed as she noticed the group in the kitchen doorway, transfixed by them both; Miriam looking slightly embarrassed and Stella all misty-eyed, like she was witnessing their wedding vows. She and Tom quickly moved apart and made themselves busy with coats and dogs as Justin popped a cork with great enthusiasm. He’d freed himself from the shackles of a highly restrictive diet for one day only, and clearly didn’t plan to waste it.

‘This looks wonderful, Daisy,’ said Miriam, raising an elderflower cordial in her direction as they all took their seats an hour later. ‘Merry Christmas to you.’

‘Merry Christmas,’ added the others, although Justin was already half-cut and louder than everyone else combined. Daisy glanced at Tom, who gave her a half-smile that turned her loins to mush, then raised his glass in a gesture that felt like it was just for her. Her breath caught in her chest and her cheeks flushed, and it dawned on her exactly how difficult it was going to be to stay away from Tom Clark.

They were on opposite sides of the small dining table, which in some ways was better because she could see his face and catch his glances. But she also wanted to be next to him, breathing in his scent and feeling the heat of his body, holding his hand in hers as Miriam said Grace. She tried to focus on her food, but every time she looked up he was there, passing over a dish or looking at her in a way that made her neck feel hot. How was she supposed to focus on anything?

By the time the meal was finished, Daisy had decided that she really didn’t object to this eclectic collection of people at all. Miriam was quiet and appreciative and didn’t drink, and that seemed to have had a knock-on influence on Stella, who only put away one glass of champagne and half a glass of wine over the whole of lunch, which was practically unheard of. Justin was plastered but also a natural storyteller with a brilliant ability to involve everyone in the conversation, and Tom was his literal and figurative straight man, taking his gentle ribbing with good grace.

‘Come on, Tom,’ slurred Justin, waving his empty glass in Daisy’s direction, apparently hoping for a refill. ‘Are you seriously telling us you’ve never responded to the advances of any of the school single mothers?’

‘Never,’ said Tom, giving Daisy an apologetic glance. ‘It would be unprofessional and far too complicated.’

‘Not even a quick snog behind the bike sheds?—’

‘That was a wonderful lunch, Daisy,’ said Miriam loudly. ‘An absolute treat to be with friends on this holy day.’

‘—We don’t have any bike sheds,’ smiled Tom. ‘They all turn up in four-wheel drives. And anyway, does anyone snog any more?’

‘Let’s make some coffee,’ said Stella, patting Daisy’s hand as she stood up. Daisy gathered up all the trifle bowls and followed her into the kitchen. Justin was going to have a terrible hangover tomorrow, but he was too drunk to rein in now.

‘You need to talk to him,’ whispered Stella, closing the kitchen door behind them.

‘Who, Justin?’ asked Daisy.

‘No,’ Stella rolled her eyes, looking just like Ruby. ‘Tom. You need to talk to Tom.’

‘About what?’

‘About you and him.’

Daisy busied herself loading the dishwasher. ‘There is no me and him.’

‘Daisy, I’m your mother, and I’m not blind. I don’t know what’s happened between you, but there’s definitely something. You both keep looking at each other, then looking away. It’s like a bad film.’

‘Nothing’s happened,’ blushed Daisy, wishing her mother wasn’t quite so eagle-eyed. ‘Christian and I are working through some issues, and Tom has absolutely nothing to do with any of them. It’s very important that nobody thinks he does.’ She gave Stella a pointed stare.

‘Who do you think I’m going to tell?’ hissed Stella. ‘I came to this village for you, remember. I’ve discovered I rather like it here, but I’d stay either way. I’m on your side, Daisy.’