Page 36 of Dear Daisy

‘I didn’t mean . . .’

‘People only see what you show them. Basic psychology. No one wants to look any deeper just in case they see a reflection of themselves.’ And then a sudden shifting noise as though he was moving us both away from a conversation that might hurt. ‘So . . . word count. Hit on any new material?’

I pointed at the books on the table, splayed out like a half-shuffled deck of cards. ‘I’ve done some reading, made notes.’

‘Aha. So no actual work eh?’ He sounded amused and I had to look at him now. He’d got a hand raised, shoved into his hair as though supporting the weight of his head. ‘Still got a deadline, girl, still need to hit it.’ And then he was up, out of the chair and stalking around the room, that excess of energy that he always carried making the air crackle with his passing. ‘This place. Dark. You need some light, some air, although probably not the stuff they’ve got going on out there, which is not breathable unless you’re a penguin. You need space to get the ideas . . .’

There was a slow, tentative tap on the front door, and he whipped around. ‘Ah. A “visitor from Porlock”. Hold the thoughts . . .’ and before I could stop him he’d opened the door to reveal Alex and Scarlet, hand in hand, on the step.

‘I b-brought b-b-buns.’ Alex held up a bag and then, realising it wasn’t me standing in front of him, lowered it. ‘Oh. H-hello.’

‘Hey. Daniel Bekener.’ Dan held out a hand, which meant Alex had to juggle the bun bag in order to shake. His gaze travelled over Dan’s shoulder and into the room, where it settled on me in a kind of embarrassed wariness and his eyebrows lifted.

‘Dan, this is Alex Hill,’ I said. ‘And Scarlet. And Light Bulb.’

Dan bent down. ‘Hello, Scarlet,’ he said to the hobby horse. ‘And hello, Light Bulb. I can tell that you must be a very bright young lady.’

Scarlet laughed. ‘I’m Scarlet,’ she said and then flung herself past the men to arrive somewhere around my knees. ‘Hello, Winter!’

‘Daniel is my editor.’ I made a face at Alex, who relaxed a little. ‘He was just . . . actually, I’m not sure what he was just doing, but he was complaining a lot while he was doing it.’

Alex’s presence had given me my confidence back. Dan wouldn’t dare say anything personal in company, would he? No. He’s more of a knife-in-the-back man, not someone to drag stuff up when there’s an audience.

‘H-have the b-buns,’ Alex said. ‘And w-we’ll b-be going.’

‘Oh, Alex, you promised, you promised if I was good we’d ask Winter to come to the RSPCA with us, you promised!’ Scarlet was almost beside herself, jumping up and down in front of me and landing on my toes more often than not. ‘And I was really good, Winter, honestly . . .’ Even Light Bulb looked downcast, his ears seemed floppier than usual and it looked as though someone who’d watched more Kirstie Allsopp than was good for a person had attempted a repair job to some loose stitching round his mouth. He now had a ziggy-zaggy kind of smile that made him look a bit psychotic.

‘I d-decided you w-were r-right about a p-pet,’ Alex said. ‘W-we thought maybe a g-g—’

‘We’re going to get a guinea pig!’ Scarlet carried on bouncing. ‘Tomorrow. Did you have a guinea pig when you were little, Winter?’ And then, surprisingly she jumped a circle, ‘Did you, Daniel?’

‘I did,’ Dan, equally surprisingly, answered. ‘Two. And then seven. And then, because my parents weren’t up to playing “Guess how many in the hutch today”, one.’

‘Then you should come too, to help us choose.’ Scarlet stopped bouncing, for which my shoes were glad. ‘Because you know about guinea pigs.’

Alex and I exchanged a look of complicated horror. ‘Scarlet, Dan is busy,’ I said. ‘Aren’t you?’

Dan wiggled his eyebrows. ‘Never too busy to help those in need choose a squeaky pet,’ he said, and, to Scarlet’s obvious delight, he jumped up onto one of the chairs and began to declaim in a hushed voice, ‘This guinea piggy went to market, this guinea piggy stayed at home, this guinea piggy became Scarlet’s . . .’

‘H-he’s mad,’ Alex whispered into my ear as we watched the performance.

‘He’s something,’ I whispered back. ‘I’m not sure what. Possibly unexploded.’

Scarlet laughed and clapped as Dan took a flying leap from the chair which sent him almost into the fireplace, where he stopped suddenly, and I wasn’t quick enough to prevent him from picking up the two photographs. ‘Nice,’ he said.

‘That one is Winter and her sister. They’re twins,’ said Scarlet, proudly. ‘And that one is Winter’s sister grown up. Her name is Daisy and she lives in Australia.’

Dan looked at the pictures, his head moving from one to the other. ‘Yes,’ he said, quietly. ‘I know.’

Alex laid his hand on my arm. ‘Scarl, I th-think we should g-go now.’

But Scarlet, immune to the atmosphere which was gathering around Daniel like a storm cloud, carried on chattering. ‘They look exactly alike. There are twins in my school but they don’t look the same because Hettie has long hair and she has plaits and Jacob’s hair is really short.’

‘Yes,’ Dan said again. ‘They do.’ And now he was looking at the picture of Daisy in her bikini in that Australian sunshine, tapping one of his rings against the glass that held her in place. He laid the picture carefully back down on the shelf and carried on staring at it. ‘Daisy,’ he said, softly, almost as though the name hurt, and then he raised his eyes to find mine. Wouldn’t look away, and the expression in his eyes was like someone laying a weight across me.

I did the only thing I could think of, changed the subject completely. ‘So, RSPCA tomorrow?’

Alex’s fingers still lay on my arm, stroking gently. ‘Over at Yarton. About t-ten? If y-you’re sure . . .’

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