Chapter Thirty-One Daisy
Chapter Thirty-One
Daisy
On the afternoon of Daisy’s wedding, it was impossible for her not to think of Alanis Morissette. Rain was hammering against
the window of her hotel in the heart of London and she got it now, why everyone complained about the lyrics. Because it wasn’t
ironic at all, was it? It was just bad luck.
Daisy didn’t mind. She liked the rain, but she knew that in his separate hotel room Zack would be fuming. He would take it
personally. He wouldn’t feel the way Daisy did right now, which was that if she had a bit longer, she’d take herself for a
walk in it. Feel the rain pounding down on her head and face and arms, and embrace it. That was the kind of person she was,
and these days, she was trying to accept it.
Dan, Daisy’s mum and Clara were all arriving a bit later.
Until then, as the minutes slowly counted down to her wedding, she was entirely alone.
What should she be thinking about? She was sure she should be running through some type of to-do list, worrying about anything they’d forgotten, but her brain couldn’t keep up with that.
She’d done everything she could, and now it was just going to happen.
It was small, anyway; thirty people in a garden.
The food was selected. The table plan was done.
The venue was ready for them. It pretty much felt like any other day, except she was in a hotel room with a dress zipped up and hanging from the bathroom door, waiting for her.
And except that, for the first time since that one morning on the bus, she was hopefully going to see Tom again.
Daisy shook her head. She wasn’t allowing herself to think about that. Checking the time again, she got into the shower and
did all the same things she did every day. Everything felt unremarkable. Perhaps that was a good sign? She washed and conditioned
her hair, shaved her armpits and her legs and doubled the amount of shower gel she’d normally use. She did all of it because
she wanted to look her best, and it didn’t matter who that was for.
Unzipping her dress, Daisy stood back and stared at it. This was when the excitement should really be building, but she hadn’t
chosen a dress to get excited about. She took it off the hanger and pulled it on.
Daisy had checked her phone a few times, waiting for some sort of update from Clara, but nothing had come. Leisha had landed
that morning and she was so sure that a message would have arrived. The only thing Daisy could deduce from the silence was
that something terrible had happened; that there was a chance she may not have her only bridesmaid on her wedding day. Or
that she would, but that she’d be heartbroken. There wasn’t any other explanation for it, and while Daisy had suspected it
from the beginning, she felt devastated on Clara’s behalf. She didn’t deserve the disappointment of Leisha not being who she
said she was.
“Knock, knock,” her mum said and Daisy looked out the window, where the rain had now eased and the sky was beginning to turn
a dusky blue. She opened the door, relieved. A distraction from her own brain was just what was needed.
“Perfect timing to do my zip up,” she said, as her mum stepped into the room wearing a beautiful emerald green dress that Daisy hadn’t seen before.
“Wow, Mum. You look incredible,” she added.
It wasn’t just the dress. Everything about her looked different, and Daisy understood why.
She understood, because she felt it herself.
“Incredible, and so much lighter,” she said, reaching in and hugging her.
Her mum did her dress up and silence fell around them.
“I’ve been going through Dad’s stuff,” she said. “I thought it was about time.”
Daisy nodded. She hadn’t realized that her mum had yet to go through his stuff, but she’d also never mentioned it. “I found
some things. Some watches. They were in a box, hidden in the bottom of his wardrobe.”
Daisy frowned. “Why were they hidden?”
“I suspect they might be worth something,” Daisy’s mum said. “Billy From Next Door did a quick Google and it looks like they
might be worth quite a lot, in fact. I’m going to get them valued.”
Daisy nodded. Her dad having a secret box was the least of her worries, but it made sense that he might. Made sense in the
same way that everything about him was secretive, and that must have been a pretty miserable way to live.
Within minutes the room went from serene and peaceful to entirely chaotic. The hair and makeup artist Daisy had booked last
minute when she remembered the photos—or photographer—turned up and got to work. Dan arrived, and a lump formed in Daisy’s
throat as she realized that the only other time she’d seen him look so smart was as a young boy at their dad’s funeral. How
complicated grief could be. It wasn’t just their dad she felt sad for though, it was them. The two of them, sitting in the
front row, so unsure of what lay ahead of them.
Dan wolf-whistled as he took in Daisy sitting in the chair as Jimmy, the makeup man, did the finishing touches to her face.
“Looking good!”
“You can’t even see me.”
Dan laughed. “Fine, I’m guessing.”
Jimmy finished his work and Daisy looked in the mirror. She’d asked for Taylor Swift eyeliner, red lips and minimal everywhere
else, and he’d done exactly as she requested. She looked how she’d imagined she might look, but better.
“God, thank you. It’s perfect.”
“You were a perfect canvas, sweetheart,” he said back.
He set her hair into waves, covering it with so much toxic hairspray that Daisy began coughing and asked him to stop. And
then, like the fairy godmother, he was gone, disappearing amidst the fumes.
“How are you feeling, champ?” Dan asked, sitting down on the end of Daisy’s bed.
She couldn’t really answer that she felt nothing, although that was how she felt. Instead she used a word she’d seen other
people use on wedding shows like Married at First Sight. “Good. I feel very zen,” she said.
There was a tap at the door and Daisy checked the time. It was ten minutes until the ceremony. Swallowing, she walked toward
it, heart pounding at the thought that it might be Tom. She imagined him standing there, just on the other side, wondered
whether she’d have time for a whispered apology. Whether he was even coming at all.
She pulled open the door, a rush of disappointment filling her as she took in Clara standing on the other side. No. That was an awful way for Daisy to feel upon the sight of her best friend, particularly when . . . She leaned forward to
really check, but yes, Clara was beaming. Pushing the door open farther, Daisy jumped as she took in the woman standing next
to her.
“Well, let us in then,” Clara said, reaching for Leisha’s hand, and Daisy flung a hand to her face because it didn’t make
any sense.
“How do you look even better than your photos,” she blurted out, and Leisha laughed, her eyes creasing. Leisha had sleek, shiny long black hair and bright
blue eyes that sparkled. She was dressed in a pinstripe suit that she’d surely had tailor-made and her smile was huge, showing
perfect straight white teeth.
“Stop it,” Leisha said in a soft American accent. “I’m fresh off a red-eye and I look like shit. But you on the other hand look stunning. It’s so good to meet you.” She leaned in, hugging Daisy. Daisy rested her head on Leisha’s
shoulder, locking eyes with Clara. “Oh my God,” she mouthed at her, as she took in the rich scent of some floral perfume that was quite possibly casting a spell over her.
Clara winked at Daisy, while she waited for her own hug.
“Big day. How are you feeling?” she asked, and Daisy sort of wished people would stop asking her that, even though she understood
it was the most natural question of all.
“She’s feeling zen,” Dan replied with a hint of sarcasm. Daisy didn’t get it. He hadn’t reacted like that when she’d said it.
Just as the door was closing behind Clara, it stopped, and a voice sounded out from behind it.
“Ready for a photo?” it said, and the hairs on Daisy’s arms stood on end as the door slowly opened again, revealing Tom standing
on the other side. He’d come. Despite everything, he had shown up.
A lump immediately formed in Daisy’s throat as she took him in, there in the doorway dressed in the smart jeans she’d picked
out for him, coupled with a white shirt and navy tie. His usually messy hair was slicked down so that the only messy part
was a curl behind each ear and somehow, that single sighting of Tom had grabbed Daisy’s zen from her chest and pulled it from
her throat, revealing her true feelings beneath it all. She was absolutely terrified. Suddenly she felt like she might burst
into tears and she had no idea why seeing him had done that to her.
He was staring at her now, his jaw slightly open, covered in a light stubble. His eyes didn’t leave her face.
“You look . . .” He swallowed, pausing and then nodding hard. “Sorry. You look amazing.”
He held his camera up and immediately started to take photos which startled Daisy so much she took a step back, reaching for
Clara.
“Thank you,” she muttered, her heart racing. “Can I have one sec?” she asked, pulling Clara into the bathroom as everyone
else exchanged glances that Daisy chose not to worry about.
“You okay?” she asked.
“You’ve been reverse catfished,” she said, blurting out the first thing that came to her head. She needed to avoid thinking
about her own swirling feelings. She was getting married any minute!
Clara grinned. “I know! She’s incredible, right?”
“She is. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t supportive because I just didn’t believe her.”
Clara reached up and pushed a wave of hair away from Daisy’s face. “Of course you didn’t. You have a complete inability to
trust people and it makes sense as to why, but if anyone can prove otherwise, I think it’s Leisha. Some people can be trusted, Daise.”
Her mind immediately jumped to the man on the other side of the door instead of the man out in the garden, waiting for her
at the end of the aisle. But God, it was stupid anyway. Tom had Sophie. He had the woman he wanted. It wasn’t like Daisy had
a choice here, between Tom and Zack. Tom wasn’t an option.
“You’re right,” Daisy said. “I can trust Zack.” She nodded.
Something flashed across Clara’s face, the way it always did, and Daisy waited for what she might say about him. How careful
she’d have to be, given what day it was.
“Good,” she muttered, eventually. “But I meant something else. I meant you can trust yourself. Whatever it is you’re thinking and feeling in there,” she said, resting her finger on Daisy’s chest. “You can trust it. Your gut is never wrong.”
Daisy shook her head. “I’m not sure I have a gut,” she said, remembering that one moment in the pool. What Woolf had said
in Orlando.
“I hate to be a dick, but I sort of need to walk my sister down the aisle,” Dan shouted from the other side of the door.
Daisy pulled her eyes from Clara’s face. “Coming,” she said. “Thank you,” she mouthed at Clara, who nodded once, slowly.
“Okay,” Daisy said firmly, opening the bathroom door. “Let’s go get married.”