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Bright and way too early Wednesday morning, her three days of denial came to an abrupt end.
‘Daisy, Daisy, open up, dear.’ Mrs Valdermeyer’s excited voice was punctuated by several loud raps on the door. ‘A package has arrived for you. Special delivery no less.’
Daisy rolled over, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. Stumbling out of bed, she checked the Mickey Mouse clock on the mantelpiece and groaned. It was still shy of seven a.m.
She pulled the door open and her landlady whisked past, holding a small brown-paper parcel aloft like a waiter on silver-service duty. She laid it ceremonially on the bed. Then turned to Daisy and bounced up on her toes.
‘Isn’t it exciting?’ She clapped her hands. ‘It’s from that handsome young man next door—it says so on the front.’
Daisy felt a much louder groan coming on, but bit it back.
‘What’s going on?’ Juno stood in the doorway, wearing her Bugs Bunny pyjamas and a sleepy frown.
‘Daisy has a package from a gentleman admirer. Isn’t it exciting?’ Mrs Valdermeyer plopped down on the bed and patted a spot next to her. ‘Come in, Juno, and let’s watch her open it.’
Daisy felt the groan start to strangle her. Fabulous. When had her bedroom become package-opening central?
‘What gentleman admirer?’ Juno asked. Walking into the room, she glanced at the package. ‘Oh, him,’ she scoffed.
Daisy opened her mouth to speak—and start ushering her audience out the door—when Mrs V interrupted her. ‘Don’t be such a grump, Juno dear.’ She whisked a pair of scissors out of her dressing gown with a flourish. ‘The man is positively delicious and he saved Mrs Pootles from a fate worse than death. Daisy could do a lot worse.’ She offered Daisy the scissors. ‘In fact Daisy did do a lot worse—remember that awful Gary?’
‘Do I ever,’ Juno replied, sitting next to Mrs Valdermeyer. She caught Daisy’s eye. ‘But I’m not sure this guy is that big an improvement.’
‘Well, he’s certainly a lot better looking,’ Mrs Valdermeyer
shot back.
‘We’re not dating, Mrs V,’ Daisy interceded, before her landlady got totally the wrong idea. ‘So there’s no need—’
‘Why ever not, dear? He’s loaded, you know. Which, I might add, comes in very handy if the passion fades.’
Daisy grabbed the scissors, resigned to opening the package as quickly as possible before the conversation deteriorated any further.
She snipped the string and folded the paper back carefully, aware of the two pairs of eyes watching every move she made. Her heart pummelled as she opened the lid.
Please don’t let him have put crotchless knickers in here. Or something equally tacky.
But as she upended the box she was surprised to see three envelopes of varying sizes and a slim, black velvet case bounce onto the bed.
‘How marvellous. Jewellery. Open that last, Daisy,’ Mrs Valdermeyer said, thrusting the first of the envelopes into Daisy’s hand. ‘Jewellery needs to be properly savoured.’
Once Daisy had opened all three of the envelopes, Mrs Valdermeyer was practically doing cartwheels around the room and Juno’s frown had turned into the San Andreas fault.
Daisy slumped onto the bed, stunned. In her lap she had a first-class return ticket to JFK dated for twelve noon that coming Sunday, a carefully typed itinerary of her travel arrangements signed by someone called Caroline Prestwick and a gold credit card in her name.
Her hand shook as Mrs Valdermeyer thrust the jewellery case into her lap on top of the other booty. Daisy picked it up, and found another envelope attached to the bottom of the case.
She ripped it off, stared blankly at her name scrawled on the front in large, block letters and then tore it open. Inside was a sheet of thick textured white paper with the Brody Construction logo stamped across the top. As she scanned the contents of the letter her fingers began to tremble.
Angel Face,
I found the sparkles in Paris and thought they would suit. Get anything else you need with the card—and don’t spare yourself. I want you to look the part.
There’s a car booked for the airport. See you at The Waldorf.
Connor
PS: I’ve my solicitor on speed-dial if you don’t show.
