Chapter 44
I t was late afternoon the next day and Daisy was on the ferry.
It was less crowded than usual, with just a handful of locals and a couple of late-season tourists wrapped in coats against a chilly wind.
Daisy had suggested a trip on the ferry for a picnic on impulse the day before and was now very glad she’d done so.
It was a near-perfect autumn day with gorgeous light above and the sea around Pretty Beach looked as if it was hammered gold.
One thing Daisy knew was that it was way too beautiful a day to waste hanging around indoors.
With Miles, Margot and Evie, she'd climbed to the upper deck of the ferry and despite the cool air, the twins had immediately claimed the best seats where they could lean over and watch the water churn white beneath the hull. Miles had a rolled-up picnic blanket with leather straps over his arm and Daisy a small picnic basket on her lap. Truth be told, it was the sort of family outing that Daisy was still finding her feet with. It was no longer just her and the girls and for Daisy that had taken a bit of getting used to. For the twins and Miles, though, it didn’t appear to be a problem.
All three of them had rolled with it as if it had always been meant to be.
'Look, there's our bookshop!' Margot pointed back toward Pretty Beach as the ferry pulled away from the wharf.
The town spread out behind them in a curve of pastel cottages, slate roofs, and chimneys sending up thin curls of smoke against a pale sky.
The bookshop was just visible in its row of shops, its front window catching the late afternoon light here and there and its bunting fluttering back and forth in the wind.
'It looks so small from here. Tiny!’ Evie observed, leaning precariously over the rail until Daisy caught the back of her jacket.
'Everything looks smaller from the water. It’s really different looking at it from out here. I always think the same,’ Miles noted.
Daisy nodded. From the ferry, Pretty Beach looked like something from a postcard.
A perfectly preserved coastal town that people visited to remember what England used to look like before chain stores, shopping centres, flyovers and traffic lights.
The reality was more complicated, of course, than it just being an idyllic little town by the sea.
Even living in Pretty Beach, there were still bills to pay, customers to please and sometimes little dramas that came with small-town life.
However, sitting on the ferry, looking at the town from out on the water, it was nothing short of glorious and Daisy, for one, was very pleased to call it home.
The ferry's engine settled into a rhythm as they headed toward open water and the coastline fell away on either side, leaving a full sweep of bay, rocks, headlands and coves.
A fishing boat worked its way back toward the harbour, seagulls wheeled in its wake, and somewhere in the distance, a seal's head broke the surface before disappearing again just as quickly as it had appeared.
'Mummy, can we have the buns now?' Margot asked and pointed to the picnic basket.
'Yep, of course you can.'
Daisy distributed still-warm buns they’d purchased on their way to the ferry.
She bit into her own and smiled as the memory of after-school cinnamon buns on the ferry flashed through her brain.
A lovely and very unique little memory lane trip back to her school days, which included the taste of cinnamon, butter, and icing.
Plus, the feeling of eating on the ferry deck with salt spray misting her face.
A memory that was part of the DNA of those who lived, worked and played in Pretty Beach.
At least for those like Daisy who had lived there all their life.
'These are the best buns in the world.' Evie sounded absolutely certain as she held up the remaining half of her bun, unaware that she had a huge blob of cinnamon sugar stuck to her chin.
'Has Holly been brainwashing you?' Miles joked and reached over to wipe Evie's face with the corner of a napkin.
The gesture was so natural and parental that Daisy felt a wave of emotion hit her.
Not that long before, he'd been a stranger who'd had ice cream dropped on him by one of her daughters.
Now, he was the person who automatically reached for napkins and remembered to pack extra jumpers in case the ferry was cold. How things had changed.
The twins scanned the water for signs of marine life and their chatter drifted back on the wind.
Miles shifted closer to Daisy on the bench and put his arm around her shoulders.
‘This was a good idea. It’s so nice getting out on the water.
I'd forgotten how different everything looks from out here. The air is so fresh.'
'The girls love the ferry. We used to come for a ride a lot when they were little.
It was free entertainment and it made them feel like they were going on proper adventures without actually going anywhere.
My mum used to do the same with me, Bells and Maggie.
The air does wonders for everything or so the old traditions say. I think I am inclined to believe them.'
'Not a bad memory to have from growing up,’ Miles noted.
Daisy watched Margot point excitedly at something in the water.
'I love looking at what we've got from a distance and appreciating it properly.
You know?' She looked around and let out a deep, contented sigh.
The ferry was at the point where the water appeared to go on forever in every direction.
It was a deep, dark blue-green and the horizon stretched endlessly and emptily except for the occasional container ship heading for Portsmouth or Plymouth.
The wind was strong, whipping Daisy's hair across her face and making the twins giggle.
Miles squeezed Daisy’s hand and kissed her on the cheek and Daisy gulped.
Public displays of affection sometimes caught her off guard, although she always hid her reaction well.
It felt strange to her having the luxury of someone who wanted to hold her hand on ferry decks and didn't care who might see.
'Mummy, there's definitely a seal over there! It's got whiskers and everything!' Margot's voice carried over the engine noise and the wind.
'Lucky seals, living in the most beautiful place in the world.'
'Do you think Pretty Beach is the most beautiful place in the world?' Miles asked with his eyebrows raised.
'Don't you?’
Miles looked back toward Pretty Beach, which was growing smaller and smaller behind them as the ferry chugged up the coast. Church spires, cottage chimneys and the lighthouse were little lines against the sky, and the cluster of boats moored on the harbour were dots that bobbed up and down.
‘It’s not bad. Not bad at all. I can think of worse places to come home to. ’
‘Yes, me too.’
Miles raised his chin in the direction of the twins. ‘They seem very happy out here.’
Daisy nodded. 'They always are and I am, too.’
‘Ditto.’
Daisy looked back at Pretty Beach. ‘Imagine how awful it would have been if GayesBooks had got their hands on the place. It makes me shudder to think about it now.’
‘I know, it doesn’t bear thinking about.’
‘Nope. Thank goodness that threat has gone.’
‘Yep.’
Daisy didn’t say anything else and they sat and watched the twins leaning against the railing.
She thought about how far she’d come and how much better she felt than when she’d been living on the new estate about fifteen minutes outside of Pretty Beach.
It was strange really, because there hadn't been a single moment of revelation or a sudden realisation about how things had changed, but now she realised that she was in a completely different place.
It was more a gradual accumulation of small certainties in her life, like the first time a customer had specifically asked for her book recommendations as if she were now a person with an opinion and a role.
Then there had been the first morning she'd realised that she wasn’t checking her bank balance quite as obsessively anymore.
Then there had been the day that Margot had told her teacher that her mummy had the best job in the world.
As the ferry slowed for its approach to their stop, Miles squeezed Daisy's hand and leaned close. 'I love you, Daise, and the girls, and the bookshop. I love being part of it.'
Daisy felt her throat tighten. 'I love you, too.'
The ferry bumped gently against the wharf and the crew moved to secure the mooring lines. Around them, passengers were getting up, waiting and gathering their belongings and preparing to disembark.
'Come on, Mummy!' Margot was tugging at Daisy’s free hand.
‘Right, yes, coming.’
Once they’d hopped off the ferry and were making their way off the wharf, Daisy looked back at the ferry as it chugged away.
She then turned and squinted in the direction of Pretty Beach.
A little voice in her head whispered to her.
It told her how happy she was and how she was no longer in a constant state of wondering about what in the name of goodness was coming next.
How she’d settled and eased into what she now had.
How the bookshop was waiting for her and Miles was in her corner.
She swallowed and closed her eyes for a second.
Daisy Henley had never been happier to be exactly where she belonged.
Right there in Pretty Beach. Not really a care in the world.
Read the next part in Daisy’s story HERE.
Always at The Bookshop Pretty Beach.