Chapter 22
T he bathroom was quiet and so was the bookshop building, not as quiet as Daisy, who was still as a mouse.
She was quiet and still, at least on the outside.
However, inside her head, her thoughts were far from quiet.
Having a fair old pity party and shouting a lot, in actual fact.
Her inner dialogue was so loud it was as if a carbon copy of herself was sitting on Evie and Margot’s little bath time stool, having a conversation with her right there in the bathroom.
Miserable, pitiful and self-centred all rolled into one.
Sitting back in the bath, knees just poking out of the water and with a pale blue flannel folded on the edge near her arm Daisy felt sick.
Her hair was scooped on top of her head, her face bare, and a single candle flickered from the little ledge near the taps.
She had a nip of neat gin beside her that was untouched except for one small sip, and the ice cubes had begun to melt in the glass, clinking faintly as she shifted.
The girls were in bed and she’d not heard a peep out of them; at least that part of the evening had gone off without a hitch.
It had been the same old routine she’d been doing on her own since she’d had them: clean pyjamas, teeth brushed, story, one twin slightly more fidgety than the other, the usual pattern that followed the same path every night.
To be fair, she had been proud of herself for managing it all without snapping at one of them because of the knot in her stomach that had twisted and gnarled as time ticked on without hearing from Miles.
She’d kept her phone close all evening, but it had remained dead as a dormouse.
Close wasn’t even the word for it, she might as well have duct-taped her iPhone to her forehead.
It had been with her in the bookshop, on the edge of the sink, by the bed, next to the kettle, in her cardigan pocket, under her folded arms while she’d stared out the kitchen window with a glum look on her face and now it was on the bath mat.
Every buzz or phantom buzz had made her jump, and each time it had been an email or a notification from the parent app and she’d had a message from her mum and one from Suntanned Pete. From Miles, though: not a sausage.
She took another sip of the gin and put the glass down again.
It wasn’t very strong and just what she needed, not enough to tip her into anything, but ever so slightly razoring off her frazzled edges.
Rubbing at the corner of her eyes, she let her head tip back against the rolled rim of the bath.
The enamel was cold on her skin, and for a moment, she just stared at the ceiling and tried not to cry.
She could not get her head around that the same thing was happening again.
All day and night and not even a text. She just wasn’t important enough.
Her phone pinged and she sat upright so hastily that a slosh of water splashed out onto the bathroom floor. Reaching over, the candle flickered in the draught from her movement, the screen was bright and there it was a message notification on her phone.
Miles: Sorry. There’s a funny, patchy signal in the part of the hospital she’s in. Everything has taken sooooo long. ******* nightmare!
Daisy exhaled a long, slow whoosh out of her mouth, closed her eyes, tipped her head back and looked at the ceiling for a good few seconds. Thank the good lord above. Another text came through right away.
Miles: It’s not been pleasant. Mum has had to have her head shaved and loads of stitches. She looks like she’s been through a war, but she’s still with us.
Daisy bit her lip, water dripping from her arm as she scrolled.
Miles: I hate that this happened to her. She’s been targeted twice in the same spot. It makes me feel like I’ve failed her somehow. We keep telling her not to go that route on her own, but she always says the shortcut is worth it. Yeah, she’s frail. It’s not great. x
All Daisy’s self-centred selfish thoughts flew out the bathroom window.
Daisy: I’m so sorry. That sounds horrendous. How is she doing now? How are you doing?
Daisy propped the phone between her knees, the screen facing forward, and waited. The bathwater had cooled, but she didn’t move.
Miles: She’s drowsy and pale but awake. They’re keeping her in for observation. It could be a while. She’s black and blue, too. There are so many bruises. It’s sickening.
Daisy: Gosh, I can’t imagine how bad that must be to see. You must be beside yourself. And you? Have you eaten anything? How can I help?
Miles: A packet of crisps and a disgusting hospital sandwich that was mostly stale plastic bread.
Daisy: At least that’s something.
Miles: I love you, Daise.
Daisy stared at the message. That was a bolt from the blue.
She read it again, then again and the words shimmered slightly on the screen.
The glitchy hospital Wi-Fi and barely- there signal had sent what she’d wanted to hear, that was for sure.
She loved him too and had done right from the beginning.
Although they’d told each other a few times, it hadn’t exactly felt as if it was truly out in the open and it certainly hadn’t been gushing from either side.
A hamper the size of a small army had helped.
For a minute, Daisy just sat in the bath and looked at her wrinkled skin and at how the tips of her fingers had gone pruney.
She was so emotional and overwhelmed that it felt as if the anxiety was standing just to her right on the other side of the bath, waiting to get in.
Funny really, since the anxiety had been her friend, it had only arrived when things were bad and in her quiet moments behind the doors, when she’d felt as if she wasn’t able to cope.
Now, here it was threatening when good overwhelm was around, too.
She stayed in the bath for a few more minutes, the message sitting on her screen like some sort of prize as a massive feeling of relief flooded through her body.
It felt as if someone had picked her up by the skin on her scalp, tummy and toes and rested her on the surface of the water.
Floating in being loved. Another message popped up on her phone.
Miles: I’ll call you in a sec. I’m walking outside. Can you speak?
Daisy: Yep. xxx
Pulling the plug out with one toe, Daisy stood up carefully, stepped out of the bath, and winced as the cool air in the bathroom nipped against her skin.
Wrapping herself in a towel, she wound another into a turban on top of her wet hair and sat down on the closed toilet lid, phone clutched in her hand, knees tucked in slightly, still dripping a bit here and there onto the tiles.
She stared at the screen and waited, her right leg jigging anxiously. It rang and she slid to answer.
‘Hi.’
Miles sounded drab, quiet, low and tired. ‘Hi.’
Daisy moved the phone and tucked the towel in tighter. ‘God, it sounds like it’s been awful. Are you okay? Is your mum okay, more importantly?’
‘Not really. But I’m fine. It’s been a day, for sure.’
‘It sounds like it.’
‘I’ve never seen her like that before. She looked so small. I kept picturing her when I was young and now, she’s lying there with half her head stitched up. I’ll send you a pic. She looks like an Egyptian mummy.
‘I can’t imagine how horrible it must be.’ Daisy thought about how it might feel for her if the same thing had happened to Susannah. ‘It sounds awful. What can I do to help? So sorry this has happened.’
‘Yeah, it is.’
Daisy watched a picture arrive, put Miles on speaker and tapped to open the image and gasped.
She swore. ‘Oh, my goodness! She looks terrible! You didn’t say she had black eyes, too.
Oh, the absolute pigs that did this to her!
This is dreadful. I cannot believe they did this to your mum! Poor, poor thing.’
‘The bruising and black eyes are from where they punched her. And yet, she still tried to correct the nurse when they wrote down her name wrong.’
Daisy chuckled. ‘Well, I suppose that’s a sign that she’s okay, hopefully.’
Miles exhaled a long, stressed blast of air. ‘It’s so good to talk to you.’
‘Same. So where are you now?’
‘I’m heading back to mine. My brother’s going to drop me off. The hospital said there’s nothing else we can do tonight. Visiting hours are strict and she’s sleeping anyway. I just need a shower and to eat something that isn’t wrapped in cling film.’
‘Do you want me to come up?’ Daisy shifted the phone to her other ear. ‘I can. The girls are with me tonight, but I can ask Mum. I can sort something out and be there in the morning.’
‘I’d love it if it wasn’t too much and your mum wouldn’t mind. The thing is, my brother is flying to Tokyo tomorrow. He’s speaking at an event…’
Daisy felt a wave of emotion that he’d said yes.
She looked down at the floor, at a puddle near her foot where the water had sloshed out over the top and the old navy blue bath mat she’d been meaning to replace.
‘Okay. I’ll work it out. I can drop them early or get Mum to help.
I can get on the fast train and be with you in no time. ’
‘If you’re sure? Are you not working for Pete tomorrow?’
As it happened, Daisy had already done a turnaround clean for Pete the afternoon before, and she’d done her bakery work early that morning. ‘Actually, I’m clear. I was just going to spend the day cleaning.’
‘I’ll pay the train ticket.’ Miles suggested. ‘Just having you there would help. Everything’s been too much today.’
‘Haven’t you got that big meeting tomorrow?’
‘Yeah, I will see what happens in the morning.’
Daisy remembered that Miles had an aunt not too far away. ‘Where was your mum’s sister again?’
‘Somerset.’
‘That’s right.’
‘I messaged her, but to be honest, I didn’t want to panic her, so I played it down.’
Daisy tightened the towel around her chest. ‘I’ll message you the train times later.’
‘Thank you. I feel a bit pathetic. Like I’m falling apart. I don’t know. When she was unwell before, it was, you know, an illness with steps to follow and procedures. This, this is, I don’t know. Sorry I keep saying I don’t know. She’s been battered, to be honest. I…’
‘You’re not falling apart. Anyone would be emotional in your shoes.
You’ll be fine. I’ll just come for a bit of emotional support, we’ll get a coffee and you’ll feel better.
It’s a lot to deal with. I cannot, repeat cannot, believe that picture of her.
No wonder you’re feeling upset. This is absolutely dreadful. How’s your brother?’
‘The same, really. It’s awful. Plus, he’s got a lot on his plate at the moment.’
Daisy tried to sound supportive. ‘I can be up and back the same day. No drama. Or I can stay. Whatever helps you.’
‘No, no you don’t need to stay. You should get some sleep. You sound knackered.’
‘Not as knackered as you.’
‘True.’ Miles agreed. ‘I am exhausted.’
‘Alright. I’ll go and sort everything. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Night, Daise. I’ll message you when I get back.’
‘Night.’
Daisy padded into the hallway and looked in on the girls, both fast asleep, legs tangled in their duvets, soft breathing filling the small bedroom.
She stood there for a minute, just watching, before heading to her bedroom.
Her hair was still wrapped in the turban and her bath towel was around her.
Even though she hadn’t known what to expect, she was surprised at how Miles had sounded.
Flabbergasted, in fact. His voice had sounded as if he’d been winded, as if someone had literally kicked the air out of him.
Really, she didn’t know what to think. She did know that she didn’t want to hear him sound like that ever again.
She also knew now just how much she loved him.