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‘And then,’ gulped Daisy, ‘you don’t help by waltzing off into the sunset and sabotaging my evenings out.’
‘Can’t you get Mum to babysit?’
‘She helps out a bit but doesn’t seem that keen, to be honest. I don’t think she likes me much.’
‘Oh, now you’re being ridiculous. You’re the perfect daughter, the chosen one.’
‘Hardly.’ She pouted, pushing her hands through her hair. ‘If I were the perfect one, which I’m not saying I am, which one are you?’
‘The weird, unplanned one.’
‘Mmmm.’ Daisy nodded. ‘You are weird. But I’m still envious of your life.’
Now Lettie did laugh. ‘You’re envious of me? Are you kidding?’
‘No. You have your own place, lots of free time, and you don’t have a job that involves listening to people blather on endlessly about their problems.’
Not for the first time, Lettie wondered if Daisy really was cut out for life coaching.
‘A steam mop, Lettie.’ Daisy grasped hold of her shoulders and held on tight. ‘A freaking steam mop. That’s the sort of present Dad would get Mum and she’s, like, proper old and she’s let herself go. I’m turning into my mother.’
She started snivelling again as Lettie put her hand under her sister’s arm and propelled her up the path. The sky was fading from grey to black. Soon it would be too dark to see where they were walking, and the boom of the waves was getting louder.
Lettie let herself into Driftwood House, using the key Rosie had given her. She called out a quick hello to Rosie, who was sitting watching TV, and almost pushed Daisy up the stairs and into her bedroom. An art deco lamp on the bedside table had already been turned on and was casting an amber glow around the room.
‘Think I’m drunk, Letts,’ slurred Daisy, collapsing face first onto the bed.
‘I know,’ said Lettie, pulling off Daisy’s shoes before wrapping the duvet around her. ‘You’re absolutely hammered.’
‘I love you, Letts. Lots.’ Daisy lifted her head before slamming it back down onto the bed. ‘Jeez, the room is going round and round.’
‘You’d better get some sleep, Daisy, and we can talk in the morning.’
Lettie poured a glass of water from the carafe on the bedside table and left it within reach before softly closing the bedroom door behind her. She made her way up to the attic where she got ready for bed and slipped beneath the covers. The window was open and she could hear the soporific sound of the waves.
What an evening! A disastrous ‘date’ with Simon and a drunken Daisy spouting all kinds of nonsense. Or perhaps being sozzled had unleashed the truth and her life wasn’t quite as perfect as she always made out.
Lettie was worried about her sister, but her thoughts kept straying to Corey and what he must think of her for telling Simon about his grandmother’s ill health. She’d only been trying to keep him away from Florence, but it would reignite Corey’s suspicions that she and Simon were in cahoots – especially as he’d found the two of them together in the pub.
He’d been so furious, standing there with his fists balled and his dark hair flopping over his eyes. Furious and – Daisy was right – disappointed.
All coming to Heaven’s Cove seemed to have done was make things worse. There was still no answer to the mystery of Iris’s key, she’d upset Corey, and Daisy had turned up out of the blue and was acting quite unlike herself. At least she’d found Esther, but getting involved in Claude’s search was probably no more than a subconscious distraction – so she could avoid finding a new job and getting her life sorted out.
Lettie screwed up her face to stop herself from crying but it was too late. Tears dribbled down her cheeks and into the pillow as she drifted off into sleep.
