Sunshine at Daisy’s Guesthouse: A heartwarming summer romance to escape with in 2018!
‘No, absolutely.’
Suddenly, there was the rumble of a car coming up the drive. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was Tom. The giveaway was the faulty exhaust pipe; it sounded like a Boeing 747 coming into land.
‘Hello darling Daisy,’ came a booming voice behind her and shortly the doorway was filled with the tall and athletic frame of Tom, wearing bright pink chino shorts and a Hawaiian shirt.
‘Oh my, Daisy.’ He air-kissed her cheeks then looked at James, grinning broadly. ‘If only I had known that James was here. I’d have put on my very special—’ he elongated this word ‘—cologne. This one is so understated and I hate to be understated.’
James, ever the gentleman, held out his hand. ‘Good to see you again, Tom.’
Tom clung to his hand like ivy to a wall. Daisy eventually had to tell him to let go.
‘Oh sorry, darling Daisy, it’s just this man has left me hanging since university days.’
That was the thing about Tom: not a shy, retiring bone in his body.
‘Why are you dressed up for some sort of New Orleans street party?’ she asked, eyeing his loud and proud outfit.
‘Well, darling, I’ve decided I’m not getting any…’ Once again, his eyes walked the length of James’s body who Daisy noticed flushed ever so slightly. It had taken her twenty years to not flinch at some of his statements. ‘So,’ he continued, ‘I think it’s because I’ve been wearing drab, wintry, but ever so chic, clothes. Now is the time to break free and show people my spring and summer wardrobe.’
Daisy giggled. ‘How’s it working out for you?’
‘Well, so far, some builders asked me when the parade started…’ Tom mused, grinning. ‘Anyway, more to the point, Lisa sent me.’
Daisy narrowed her eyes. ‘Oh, she did, did she?’
‘Yeah, she said you had big news and I was to find out what the big news was…’ He waited expectantly, like a puppy.
‘There is no news,’ Daisy interrupted quickly. ‘None.’
‘No, no news,’ James agreed, catching her grateful smile.
Tom put his hand on his hip. ‘OK, not being funny. You two are so up to something.’ He grabbed the piece of paper from Daisy’s hand and turned his back on Daisy who madly tried to scramble it away from him.
‘Tom, give it back to Daisy, come on,’ James said, like an ever-patient schoolmaster.
Eventually, Tom turned back to them both and beamed. ‘This is wonderful. This is so wonderful.’
Daisy wrenched the letter from his grasp and held it to her chest. ‘It’s not happening.’
Tom wasn’t listening; he was already on his phone.
‘Lisa?’ He smiled at his audience and Daisy just stared on in horror. ‘Daisy is going to set up a bed and breakfast at the house.’ Daisy could hear a muffled voice on the other end of the receiver and she went to grab the phone.
‘It’s not true,’ she managed to say quickly before Tom had it back off her.
‘Yeah, and James is going to help her which means he’s going to live at the house. How good is that?’ He indicated his outfit. ‘I knew, when I put this on, something special was going to happen today.’ He touched Daisy’s arm tenderly, phone still pressed to his ear and then with a nod of his head to James, he said, ‘Come on guys, group hug. I’ll put you on speakerphone, Lisa. We are more than happy to help out, aren’t we, Lisa? We’ll be doing it in the name of Hugh.’
Daisy quickly found herself ensconced in a mass of male limbs, quickly noting that James wasn’t refusing and putting Tom right. No, he was fully involved in the group hug.
‘Um, guys…’ She disentangled an arm and waved her hand around like a white flag. ‘Um, I actually said no, I wasn’t going to do it.’
James and Tom moved in closer and she was well and truly trapped in a sandwich of testosterone, hairy chests and Tom’s sickening cologne. God, she couldn’t imagine what the other cologne – the special one – was like; she would have needed a gas mask.
‘Um, James, didn’t we just agree that we’re not doing this crazy idea and you’re heading to Australia?’ Her voice sounded small as they still refused to let go and she remained trapped.
‘Shouldn’t we at least try, Daisy? Isn’t it what Hugh would have wanted?’ Tom said.
‘Exactly,’ Daisy heard Lisa say.
‘Um, actually if anyone’s doing it, it’s me and James.’
‘Nah, you need all hands on deck,’ Lisa said and Tom murmured his agreement. ‘I mean who’s going to change beds and cook eggs.’
‘I’m not sure I want everyone here all the time plus guests.’ Daisy was growing ever hotter. ‘Can I get out of this hug? I mean this is craziness.’
‘No,’ Tom said. ‘Darling, you are staying there until you agree. At least give it a go, then we can always stop if it turns out badly and James—’ he delivered a fake sob ‘—could then go and tan his beautiful body on an Australian beach and discover he was gay, after all, but can’t afford the return journey home so he will never have me in his life…’ He stopped, genuinely caught up in his own fairy tale. James shifted uncomfortably.
‘And Lisa and I could go back to waitressing in the bistro, talking to the tweed brigade. And you, you could continue to do it is whatever you do.’
Silence descended on the huddle, Lisa included, and Daisy realised that, unbelievably, he was right. What did she have going on? She didn’t have children, she barely spoke to her mother and she didn’t work. Maybe Hugh had been offering her a lifeline, and maybe, annoyingly, the boring old sod was right.
No one had spoken since the end of Tom’s presidential speech; they were waiting on her.
She clutched the letter and held it to her lips. ‘Categorically no.’
Tom huffed. ‘Lisa and I will cook you guys dinner. I’m going to pick her up now anyway and let’s see if we can’t persuade you this evening.’ Tom gripped his phone. He hadn’t stopped smiling. ‘There is so much to talk about.’
Daisy felt uneasy as she watched Tom head back to his car. James, sensing this, squeezed her shoulder.
‘You OK?’
She nodded, forcing herself to smile.
He nodded and walked outside, leaving her alone in the hall as she caught sight of a silver-framed picture of herself, Hugh and James taken at an outdoor concert three years ago. Hugh and James hugged her close. Maybe that was why she hadn’t entirely written off the B&B idea in her head: James was the closest she could be to Hugh. The thought of him on the other side of the world had made her feel panicky, unsure. She couldn’t let go of any more of Hugh. Not yet.
Daisy looked at each of them in turn over the rim of her glass and inhaled her wine. Tom had gone to town over supper. He had remembered that the B&B idea stemmed from a reality show set in France and so red, white and blue bunting fluttered across the ceiling, the table was laden with salami and casserole and some sort of terrine with actual animal hair poking out of it (rustic she had been told), beset on top of a paper red gingham tablecloth and, of course, there were carafes of red wine. It looked glorious and simply perfect. Her eyes flitted towards the ceiling and she was glad Hugh (who, to her mind, was now a permanent fixture of the ceiling or sky) could feel a part of it with