Page 48 of The Secret Holiday Kiss

‘Fiona said you were homeless before you came here.’ She said it tentatively, because, even at the time, Daisy had felt like that sort of detail was a step too far. If Jazz wanted to tell people, she had the right to do it herself.

But Jazz put her phone down and gave Daisy a wide smile. ‘I was. I had a tough few years – tough decade, really. My home life was terrible, and I knew I’d be better off out of it than staying. I moved around a lot, sofa surfed, but when I got to Mistingham, I was at my lowest. I had nothing. Fiona and Ermin took me in.’

‘I’m glad they did that, and that you love it here.’

‘I’ve got a real home, which at one point looked so far out of reach. I run storytelling sessions with Imogen at the village hall, and there’s the Am Dram club too. I do shifts at the hotel, and in the new year I’m going to top up my GCSEs, then enrol on a teaching and early years course so I can apply for teaching assistant roles.’

‘Oh, you’d be so great as a teaching assistant,’ Daisy said.

Jazz laughed. ‘I know, right? Fun is my middle name, like Organized is yours. Are you doing OK?’

Daisy took another bite of her pastry, enjoying the rich, unctuous flavours. One downside to being back in the village, surrounded by delicious food options and moving in the same circles as the local baker, was that her waistline might well expand. Right now, she couldn’t care less. ‘I’m doing a lot better than I thought I would be.’

‘It’s some kind of sneak attack,’ Jazz said. ‘You turn up here, you get roped into village events, you forget all your worries.’

Daisy laughed. ‘It’s not quite that simple, but I see what you’re saying.’

There was a moment’s quiet, then Jazz said, ‘Omari mentioned you were at the house the other day.’

‘Omari, eh?’ She nudged Jazz’s shoulder with her own.

It was Jazz’s turn to laugh. ‘Yeah, OK. We’ve been hanging out. He’s a lot of fun, and he’s kind, and he seems to have absolutely zero agenda, which is rare.’

‘What do you mean?’

Jazz sipped her wine. ‘The second time I met him, which was in the queue for the bakery, he said, “I’ve seen you around, and I’d like to know your name. And then, if you don’t mind telling me that, I’d like to take you for a drink.”’

‘Wow.’

‘Exactly. Totally direct, but so sweet with it. It’s not a me word, but it applies to Omari. We have a great time together, and he tells me things straight, which I appreciate. He makes me laugh.’

‘Those are all crucial things.’ Daisy thought of Avery, of how much fun it had been with him in the rain, in the hotel corridor. But also, she was convinced he wasn’t being straight with her. Not about everything.

‘You’re getting to know Avery again?’ Jazz asked, and Daisy could see why she liked Omari’s directness: they were kindred spirits. She wondered how much Omari had seen on site the other day.

‘I didn’t know him that well when we were growing up. Or, I didn’t really focus on him. I had a lot going on. Teenage girl angst, but other things too.’

‘Your mum?’

‘Exactly.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It was a long time ago,’ Daisy rushed out, because that was one thing she still struggled to talk about. She’d told enough people about Stefan, her life collapsing, the wounds still raw after two years. But she still felt as if, were she to prod at the wound of her mum dying far too young, the way it had impacted her family, she would open up a gaping hole that was too big to stitch up. ‘But I am getting to know Avery now,’ she said, stumbling back to Jazz’s original question.

‘He’s a good guy,’ Jazz said carefully.

Daisy put her plate down and looked at the other woman. ‘What?’

‘What do you mean, what?’

‘Why did you say it like that? Like, Avery is a good guy, but.’

Jazz sighed. ‘What has he told you?’

Daisy clasped her hands in her lap. ‘About what?’

‘About … I don’t know.’