Chapter 6 #2
Daisy stepped forward with the pencil and pointed.
‘Here and that will give me enough gap underneath for the pipe rail. That’s going here, hopefully, if you think it will work.
’ Daisy held up the length of copper piping.
It was old, mottled by time, which was exactly what had caught her eye and it had a good weight to it.
She’d ordered the hooks that she intended to slot on top of it, online, which had arrived that morning in a jiffy bag.
‘This’ll work. Do you have plugs?’ Pete winked.
‘No idea. I thought you’d bring everything. You’re the one with the tool belt.’
Pete gave her a mock-offended look. ‘Do I look like I walk around with wall plugs in my pockets?’
‘You’ve turned up in pineapple-print board shorts and mirrored glasses. I wouldn’t rule it out.’
Pete rummaged in the toolbox. ‘Luckily for you, I came prepared.’
Daisy stood by the table, arms folded, watching as Pete made quick work of the first bracket and checked it with a spirit level. He then secured the second bracket, third and fourth brackets and gave the wall a tap with the back of his knuckles. ‘Solid as a rock. Shelf, please.’
Daisy passed him the plank of gorgeous old, timeworn timber. It had a few knocks and one corner was a little warped, but once it was in place, it looked perfect. Pete stood back and gave it a small nod. ‘Not bad at all, actually. Good vision there, Daise. I like it.’
Daisy was surprised and close to over the moon. ‘It looks great. Much better than I thought. Thanks so much.’
‘Don’t thank me yet. That copper’s going to be a sod to drill.’ Pete crouched and picked up a set of screws and eyed the pipe. ‘Where did you say you found this? Upstairs?’
‘Up in the attic room. It was behind books, a load of old blinds and what I think was a broken bed frame.’
‘Was it attached to anything?’
‘Not that I saw. A bunch of it was lying there like it had been forgotten.’
‘Right. Let’s see what we can do.’
It took the better part of twenty minutes to get the rail fixed under the shelf.
Pete grumbled, made a comment about how nothing was ever level in the old buildings of Pretty Beach, and Daisy made two cups of tea and hoped that the drill wouldn’t wake the girls.
By the end of it, the shelf was up, the rail was solid, and the whole wall looked different and more pulled together.
In actual fact, the tiny little kitchen in one fell swoop looked instantly better.
Daisy stood back and looked at it properly. ‘What a difference! I can put the mugs up, hang the colander, get the frying pans out of the drawer and swoosh around as if I’m in a cookery show.’
Pete nodded and picked up his mug. Daisy got a packet of custard creams from the table, pulled open the top, Pete took three and started dunking them in his tea. ‘Yeah, who would have thought an old piece of pipe would look that good? You should put a few in the shop, too.’
‘It’s coming together.’
‘It is. You’ve done well, Daise. Just like I said you would.’
Daisy smiled as they chatted and felt quite pleased with herself. The shelf was up, the rail was in place and she had more storage space. She picked up the bag of new hooks from the worktop and started to slot them onto the pipe.
Pete hadn’t made a move to leave. He’d wedged himself into a kitchen chair with the last of the custard creams in his hand and had taken his sunglasses off properly, which usually meant he wasn’t in any hurry.
After slotting all the hooks on the old pipe, Daisy stood with her back against the sink, tea mug in hand, watching him scoff the biscuits as if they were going out of fashion.
‘Right,’ Pete said, licking a crumb off his thumb. ‘Now that your saucepans have a proper home and your shelf isn’t falling off the wall, I’m going to ask the question of the day.’
Daisy narrowed her eyes. ‘Sounds ominous. What question?’
‘How’s it going with Mr City Boy?’
Daisy sipped her tea and gave him a look. ‘Don’t call him that. He’s renting a temporary flat down here now. You know that.’
Pete stretched out his legs under the table. ‘I’m only pulling your leg. He’s just very smooth and polished. He even smells expensive.’
Daisy chuckled and joked. ‘He always smells nice. It’s the skincare.’
Pete shrugged. ‘Skincare? Now you’re the one pulling my leg. I’ve got skin like an old boot that doesn’t need pampering.’
Daisy giggled. ‘No argument here.’
Pete raised his eyebrows. ‘Go on then. Answer the question. How’s it going with him? Your mum said it’s getting quite serious. I mean, he’s rented a pad down here…’
Daisy stared into her tea. She didn’t like discussing her personal stuff, but Pete had known her since she was a tot and had helped the Henley women more times than she could even remember.
If anyone got to ask, it was him. ‘It’s going really well.
The renting thing isn’t just about me. He’d been thinking about moving out of the city for a while. This just gave him the push.’
Pete nodded. ‘It sounds like there’s a “but” coming.’
Daisy twisted her mug in her hands. ‘Bells, said that, too. I’m a bit wary, Pete. That’s all.’
‘Wary of what?’
‘Of getting too used to it and letting it all get stitched into the everyday of me and the girls. Everything feels good in my life and well, he’s steady and I don’t trust steady. You of all people know why.’
‘You’re allowed something steady, Daise. Look at this place. It’s why I mentioned it to you in the first place. It has given you a place to settle.’
‘I know, but I keep waiting for something to go wrong. Like if I start believing it’s real, I’ll jinx it. Do you know what I mean?’
Pete leant forward on his elbows. ‘That’s not how life works.’
‘Isn’t it? How do you trust people?’
‘Good question. Why do you feel like that?’
‘He vanished when we were first going out. Remember I told you that?’
Pete took another swig of tea. ‘I did wonder if it would affect you.’
Daisy nodded slowly. ‘Me too.’
‘I thought he’d ghosted me and it felt like proof that I was right to be cautious. Then he turned up again, full of apologies, telling me his mum got mugged by some phone gang and he’d dropped everything to be with her in hospital. Blah, blah, he still did it though, right?’
Pete gave a short nod. ‘I remember.’
‘I mean, I’d have done the same if it were Mum, but he disappeared and left me wondering if I’d said something or done something or been too much.’
‘That’s on him, not knowing how to handle it.’
‘Exactly, and now it’s fine, we’ve talked, and I understand, but part of me’s still stuck on that episode.
I still think, what if it happens again?
What if I let him in properly, something spooks him and he shuts the door and walks away?
He isn’t part of the girls. Not really. I haven’t let him get involved with them.
He isn’t here for bedtimes or pick-ups or hearing Evie’s latest debate about plaits. I keep him separate.’
Pete frowned. ‘Because you think if he sees it all, he’ll bolt?’
Daisy did an odd half-nod, half-shake. ‘No, not that. It’s not very fair on him to say that. As I said, I’m just wary. For them, more, really. You never know…’
Pete stood and stretched and the chair scraped back across the tiles.
He reached for his sunglasses and hooked them onto the neck of his T-shirt.
‘You’ve been through a lot, Daise. You’re allowed to protect what you’ve got, but just don’t forget that some people don’t run when things get a bit real. ’
Daisy grimaced. ‘You think I’m sabotaging it?’
‘I think you’re right to be cautious, but I also think Miles isn’t the sort to get scared off from what I’ve seen. He seems quite a decent bloke and as you well know, it takes a lot for anyone to impress me.’
‘Thanks for the shelf and the relationship counselling.’
Daisy opened the inner door and Pete hefted the toolbox in one hand and slung his backpack over his shoulder.
Daisy flicked off the lamp on the dresser and followed him through the porch, past a utility cupboard and a row of coat hooks where the twins’ macs were ready for a rain dash.
The back door creaked as she opened it and the air outside was sharp and hinted at a change in weather.
Pete stepped out flip-flops slapping against the path.
‘You’re going to get chilblains one of these days.’ Daisy pulled her cardigan tighter around her.
‘It will soon be time for my winter ones with the thicker sole before I move onto my fur-lined boots.’ Pete winked.
Passing a row of empty plant pots Daisy hadn’t got around to filling and a little table under the lean-to roof where the twins had left a paper crown, Daisy sighed at the state of the garden. ‘This is my next job after the sitting room and my bedroom.’
Pete stopped at the back gate. ‘No doubt I’m down to work on that, too.’
Daisy laughed. ‘Yup.’
‘Are you still planning to paint the shed this side of Christmas?’ Pete nodded to the weathered boards on the old shed to the left.
‘I’m thinking about it. It depends on how much of a mess the kitchen becomes. I’ll start with a big tidy up out here before the cold weather sets in.’
‘I’d leave it until next year.’
Daisy folded her arms and leant against the gatepost. The lane behind the shop was quiet; a single light glowed in the upstairs window from the bakery, and a cat slunk along the edge of the path, tail twitching.
Somewhere down towards the wharf, a gull made a low, bored sound and the waves were loud from the sea.
Pete shifted the toolbox to his other hand and looked at her. ‘You’ll work it out. The thing with Miles, I mean.’
‘Hope so.’
‘Just don’t let the past do all the talking. Learn a thing or two from an old timer like me.’
‘I’m trying to go with the flow.’
Pete reached for the latch on the gate. ‘Do you want me to come by tomorrow and help with those other hooks?’
‘I can do the hooks, thanks.’
Pete opened the gate. ‘Night then, Daise.’
‘Night, Pete. Thanks for everything.’
Pete gave her a two-finger salute and disappeared into the shadows, the sound of his flip-flops slowly fading into the dark.
Daisy stood there for a minute longer, hands in her pockets, the air cool against her face.
Then she shut the gate, flicked the bolt back across, made her way along the path and thought about what Pete had said and wondered whether his advice was good or not.
She hated the way she always had a feeling as if she was waiting for the walls to fall in.
The echo of Pete’s flip-flops had completely gone, the cat had vanished under the bakery gate, and the seagulls were quiet.
All Daisy could hear was the wind brushing against the shed and the distant churn of the tide.
As she stepped back along the path, past the table under the lean-to and a broken plant pot that needed clearing, she sighed and smiled at all the jobs she had to do.
Little solar fairy lights blinked half-heartedly along the fence and an old doormat caught under her foot by the back door as she stepped in.
Inside, she clicked the door shut and walked back into the kitchen.
It was already looking better. The table was still in the middle, cluttered with mugs and piles of things, but it felt like progress.
Pondering what Pete had asked about Miles, she screwed up her face.
The thing was, she was scared and she didn’t know how it was going to go.
Funny really because she was a dab hand at painting things, rearranging cupboards and running a house.
She knew how to be a mum, how to make a meal out of what was left in the fridge, how to comfort crying children with just the right words and a packet of chocolate buttons.
But she didn’t know how to fully let someone in.
Not deeply in. Not into her routines, the mess and the fragile parts she kept hidden behind being capable and cheerful and always, always fine.
She didn’t want to admit that it made her uneasy to be the one cared for. To have someone turn up and bring dinner. To be told she was enough without having to do anything.
It should be lovely and it was, but there was a small part of her, tucked behind the smile, that kept its nice, fat, thick, old, wrought-iron guard up.
Waiting for a change in tone, a silence or a message that never came.
A look that meant the end of something she hadn’t seen coming.
Daisy sighed because she hated that about herself.
That even now, as her life had improved when things were steady and calm and Miles was lovely and kind, she still found herself scanning for cracks.
Sighing and sniffing, she stared at the shelf for a bit longer and then turned out the light.
Upstairs, the twins were quiet, the place was still and Daisy, arms folded tight across her chest, walked slowly towards her room, her mind full of what would happen in the next few months.
What she wasn’t yet aware of was that she was correct to err on the side of caution.
Up ahead, there was going to be a little bit of a bump in the road in Daisy Henley’s perfect new life in Pretty Beach.