Page 57 of Whispers at The Bookshop Pretty Beach
‘I have, but that’s fine. I think you two here need to take it a day at a time, I guess and let things settle. Lethersettle. I’ll check in and bring pie and soup. We need to fatten her up a bit.’
Miles put his arm around Daisy. ‘I love you, Daise. I want this to be our life.’
Daisy closed her eyes. ‘I know.’
‘Like together.’
‘I just need to think about Margot and Evie.’
Miles straightened. ‘Yep, I know, you’ve saidmultipletimes. We’ll talk about it. Right. I’d better get her suitcase from the boot. She’ll want her slippers and stuff.’ He exhaled and looked around the room. ‘This place. You. It all feels like a bit of breathing space after the last god knows how long.’
‘That’s what Pretty Beach does. It makes you feel better, but you're not sure how or why.’
‘Are you able to stay for a bit?’
‘I was planning to.’
‘Great.’
‘I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.’
35
Miles and Elizabeth had been in Pretty Beach for a few days, and so far, so good. Elizabeth had hardly moved from the chair by the window and had loved the soup and the pie. She’d ventured out into the cottage garden to sit in the afternoon sun, but overall, she was still frail and not really able to do much at all. Miles had not let the fact that he wanted a serious discussion with Daisy go and once Elizabeth was settled, he’d told Daisy he’d wanted to meet to chat. Therefore, a little jaunt to the pub had been arranged. Daisy Henley was not sure what was going to be said.
The pub Daisy was meeting Miles at was on the far side of Pretty Beach, a stone’s throw from the cottage he was staying in with his mum. A part of town that Daisy didn’t visit too often. A picture-perfect little area with its own jetty, a gorgeous old waterfront cafe going by the name of The Old Sugar Wharf, a harbour full of bobbing boats and the view of the lighthouse in the distance. As she walked along, Daisy looked at the various shops tucked down one of the side lanes and loved the familiarity of it all. Each shop had been doing its own thing for most of her life. All of them tightly packed onto an old lane, layered overhead with a muddle of Pretty Beach buntingand jostling for space along winding cobbled pavements. Very, very nice and so far from the likes of GayesBooks, it wasn’t even funny. Daisy tried not to think about that situation and continued on.
As she strolled, Daisy felt both her shoulders decompress from what had most certainly been a stressful few hours with the twins and a bit of unease in her stomach at the proposed “talk” she was going to have with Miles. Pushing the door open to the pub, it was reassuringly the same as it always had been. A tiny hole in the wall, which in Daisy’s youth had seen a few drunken evenings. Stepping into the dinky pub, its shabby-around-the-edges ambience worked its magic; old weathered floorboards, a mishmash of worn furniture hinting of years and years of pints of beer, a small, squat, wonky bar, a lost-its-plump sofa wedged in the corner. Miles saw her right away and motioned to a table where his phone was sitting next to a beer mat and his jacket looked as if it was about to fall off the back of a chair.
A man hunched over, who was staring into his pint at the near end of the bar, flicked his eyes up. ‘Daise, how are we?’
‘Good, thanks, Derek.’
‘Your mum?’
‘Yes, well.’
‘Sisters and your girls?’
‘All well, too, thank you. How are you?’
‘Fine. Keeping well.’
Derek went back to his pint, clearly with no intention of chatting further and wanting to concentrate only on being lubricated by his ale. It only took all of another two steps for Daisy to have to stop again as a woman with a bubble of grey hair smiled.
‘Daise. Long time no see. How’s the bookshop going? Anything about the GayesBooks thing happened?
‘Not as far as I know. How are you?’
‘Just off to Portugal tomorrow. We’re having a farewell drink.’
‘Lucky you. Have a lovely holiday.’
Someone else waved from a table pushed up against a pillar. ‘Daise! How are you?
You look really well. I’ll have some of what you’re having!’
Daisy giggled, ‘Hey, Matt. How are you?’
