Page 7 of Ghost Note

“She had a heart attack this morning,” Gina responded softly—a tone not often heard from her mouth. “It was sudden, apparently.”

“Was she… alone?”

“I think so.”

“Fuck,” I hissed, letting my arse land on the kitchen stool beside me with a thud. “Just… fuck.”

Despite all the pain he’d caused me, I knew this was going to kill Danny—it had to—because now he had no one. Not even his grandmother. And after years of everyone in Hope Cove knowing everyone, all the community pitching in to raise each other’s children, celebrate each other’s lives, and be there for every milestone… that community now felt like it was dwindling.

“Do you think he’ll come back for the funeral?” I asked Gina, my voice too quiet—like I hadn’t meant to ask that question out loud.

Tears filled her eyes, too. They searched mine with a sadness I hadn’t seen since the great helicopter crash of our community, only five years ago.

“Why would he, Dais?” she whispered. “That son of a bitch didn’t come back for his own parents’ funerals after those poor bastards died right alongside mine in that helicopter.”

* * *

Like I said, in Hope Cove, everyone grew up around each other. Families were entwined, and the lives of the local residents were weaved together in a tangled web of friendships, secrets, and history.

Gina’s parents had been best friends with Danny’s mum and dad.

The day they’d taken to the skies to drift over the Southern coastline of England to celebrate Tim Silver’s 50thbirthday, tragedy had struck. Not just for the individual families, but for the masses. It was the first big loss I’d ever suffered, and I braced myself to comfort Danny on his return home.

But that never happened.

Danny Silver, the once good boy of our lives, had somehow turned so bad in the short space of time he’d been gone that he didn’t come back for the funerals. Now his Grandma Florence had died alone, without her grandson, because he’d been off chasing his own ego for too damn long.

His lack of presence helped me get over him quicker than I thought was possible. I found it hard to think about loving a man so cold. I hoped he stayed gone because gone was better for everyone. The only person he had left to disappoint now was the God my parents worshipped so much.

Everyone else saw Danny for the very thing I never thought he’d become:

A selfish arsehole.

Of course, he was back taking over my thoughts again, but with Gina’s encouragement, I gathered some strength together to go on my date with Ben that night. The idea of making idle conversation seemed pointless. My mind was already somewhere else, but Ben had always been nothing but nice to me, and he deserved someone to make an effort with him… or at least explain what the hell was going on.

Our main courses had arrived, and I pushed the tagliatelle around with my fork, occasionally trying to take a mouthful only to feel that sickness rising in my stomach—one familiar to the nausea that comes along with grief.

“Daisy, you don’t have to be here,” Ben said with a sigh of resignation as he lowered his red wine glass back to the table.

I looked up at him through my lashes, taking his handsome face in for a moment. As soon as I’d arrived at Sandros, I’d told Ben everything that had happened. Everyone in Hope Cove knew that I, the boring, simple shopkeeper, used to date the now-famous Danny from Front Row Frogs, so hiding my past from Ben was pointless. I didn’twantto hide anything. The shame I carried at not being good enough was my own to handle, but I didn’t need to feel embarrassed about it. Gina had drilled it into me over and over again in recent years:

Danny is the low life. Not you. Repeat that to yourself, every single day.

“Danny is the low life… not me,” I said quietly, the words slipping out like an old ghost being set free.

Ben’s brows creased, and his eyes fell to my mouth. “Now, tell me something we both don’t know.”

“Sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”

“Sure you do. Florence Silver just died. You’re in mourning.” Ben leaned over the table, his voice dropping when he spoke again. “That’s okay, Daisy. She meant something to you.”

“I spent the last five years avoiding her, Ben. Even when she tried so hard to check up on me and make sure I was okay.”

“You spent five years avoiding being reminded of Danny. You don’t need to pretend she doesn’t matter just becausehedoesn’t.”

I fell back in my seat and let the fork clang against the large plate. “Every lovely memory I have of Florence includes him, and Ihate him.”

Ben raised a brow and waited.

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