Chapter 80
80
The light had faded by the time Daisy finished her paintings. The last ones had definitely been the toughest, both technically and emotionally. Getting the September Rose to sparkle with all the fairy lights was a hard thing to pull off in watercolours, and she wasn’t entirely sure she had achieved it. She would have certainly been able to do a better job with more time, or if she had managed to go five minutes without crying. But it was hard. Drawing Theo on one knee, there in front of Daisy as she covered her mouth with her hand in surprise, was enough to make her tear up each time she tried to finish it. Out of all the paintings, that one had definitely been the hardest so far, although the future ones – the ones she wanted him to see the most – were even tougher.
She drew the pair of them under an archway, her in a white dress and him in a suit, Johnny beside them with a bow tie in place of his collar. After that, she drew herself pushing a pram. It wasn’t meant to please him; she realised that now. She wanted everything life had to offer with Theo, and that included children. Or maybe just a child. It was only the realisation that she might not have them with him that had made her understand how much she truly wanted it. The future pictures didn’t stop there, though. The last one she painted they had grey hair and walking sticks, and although Daisy knew that it was impossible, she still had Johnny in the pictures, only this time he was being fussed over by young children.
When they were all done, she sat back in her seat, only to realise something was wrong. Claire wasn’t back yet.
No sooner had she thought that than Claire walked in after a ridiculously long walk – over two hours, in fact.
‘Where did you go?’ Daisy asked. ‘I was expecting you ages ago.’
‘Yeah.’ A flash of guilt crossed Claire’s face. ‘When I got to the Escape , Theo said that he’d been cooped up most of the day and needed a decent walk, so I took him up to the pub that we went to when… when…’
Daisy didn’t need her to finish the sentence.
‘It’s okay. Honestly. Come and have a look. Tell me what you think of these.’
After washing her hands and taking off her shoes, Claire moved over to the table, where she leaned over Daisy’s shoulder to look at the paintings.
‘Daisy, these are incredible. They really are. He will see them. He’ll understand. I’m sure of it.’
It was exactly what Daisy needed to hear. She just hoped Claire wasn’t saying it simply to please her.
‘Well, I’m not finished yet,’ she said. ‘I still need to write a letter.’
‘A letter?’
Daisy nodded. ‘Maybe he won’t listen to me when I speak, but hopefully, when he reads what I’ve written, he’ll know I’m telling the truth. If he gives me another chance, then I’ll never mess it up again.’