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22
‘It’s hard to believe that Auntie Iris grew up here.’ Daisy peered into the window of a gift shop at the cream tea hampers, local pottery, aprons bearing Devon flags and sweets. ‘And it’s even harder to believe that she was in love with a local guy with a weird name. What was it again?’
‘Cornelius,’ said Lettie quietly, her mind whirring. Exactly how long was Daisy planning on staying, and why was she here in the first place? Daisy had never shown any great desire to keep her company before.
‘Cornelius,’ repeated Daisy slowly. ‘That sounds rather posh, but I don’t suppose he was if he lived round here. Has he still got family in the village?’
‘His sister lives at the top of the hill over there.’
‘After all these years? She must be ancient. Have you met her?’
‘Briefly,’ said Lettie, not in the mood to explain any further.
‘It’s so sad, that she was in love with someone who died in the war.’ Daisy flicked back her hair and checked out her lipstick in the shop window reflection. ‘I’m surprised she never told us about it. Well, surprised she never told you. She hardly ever spoke to us.’
‘That’s because you lot hardly ever spoke to her and, when you did, you treated her like she was a bit gaga.’
‘I did not, and anyway, she was a bit strange. Like you.’
‘She was just lonely in London.’
‘Hmm.’ Lettie and Daisy walked on, past the quay and into the narrow lane near the tiny grocery store, before Daisy suddenly came to a halt. ‘Are you lonely in London?’ she asked.
‘Sometimes.’
Concern flickered in Daisy’s eyes before she pursed her lips. ‘Then you need to settle down and stop faffing about and being too picky for your own good. What you need is a man like Jason.’ She looked up at the pub sign swinging in the breeze. ‘Is this it, then?’
‘Yep, this is The Smugglers Haunt.’
‘Nice. I like the flower baskets. Very pretty.’
She ran her fingers across the petals of a particularly bright display before pushing open the pub door and stepping inside, with Lettie following.
The first person Lettie clocked eyes on was Simon. He was sitting by the stone fireplace, looking like a clean-cut film star in a dark brown suede jacket and brown trousers. His fair hair was slicked to one side and his sunglasses were perched, incongruously, on his head.
‘Hey, Lettie,’ he called, waving across the busy pub. ‘You found me irresistible after all, then.’
‘Oh God,’ muttered Lettie. With Daisy’s arrival, her plan to avoid the pub and Simon’s ‘date’ this evening had totally slipped her mind. He probably only wanted to pick her brains for information about Florence.
‘Someone you know?’ asked Daisy, opening her eyes wide.
‘Yes, it is, and please behave yourself,’ murmured Lettie, leading the way over to him.
‘I’m so glad you took up my offer.’ Simon stood up and kissed Lettie on the cheek. ‘And may I say that you’re looking particularly gorgeous this evening.’ He glanced at Daisy curiously.
‘Hello, Simon. This is Daisy, my sister.’
‘Oh.’ Simon’s eyes opened wide. ‘You’ve brought your sister along with you?’ He recovered his composure almost instantly. ‘How lovely. You look like peas in a pod.’
Lettie doubted that – Daisy was petite with dark hair, whereas she was, according to her brother Ed, ‘a lanky redhead’.
‘I didn’t realise your sister was in Heaven’s Cove.’
‘I only arrived this afternoon,’ trilled Daisy, sounding very unlike her usual self. ‘I thought I’d come and spend a day or two with Lettie. I didn’t realise she already had a friend to keep her company.’
Was she fluttering her eyelashes at Simon? Daisy never flirted with anyone. She was rock solid with Jason, the perfect husband.
‘Can I get you ladies a drink?’ Simon got to his feet.
