Lottie Phillips - Sunshine at Daisy’s Guesthouse

Hugh’s reaction would be, ‘Darling, that is marvellous.’

Lisa and Tom, however, would be stood behind him pretending to put their fingers down their throats and then come up all smiles. ‘Yes, darling , it is… words just can’t describe it!’ James would just give her that look, a look she had never been able to describe, and smile at her.

Hugh did over time learn to relax around her other university friends and it had felt like they belonged to a club. They would, especially in the last two years of Hugh’s life, when he would have periods of being very tired, help each other prepare kitchen suppers and then dance and drink to whatever tunes were on the radio. It had been oddly perfect when she could forget about the future, about what would happen, about what did eventually happen over a year ago.

She reckoned grieving (she hated that term) would have been easier if they had had children but they didn’t try for the longest time. They didn’t want to break their happy bubble, however, she had always lived with a nagging feeling that they should have been trying for children. But then she had convinced herself that it was okay to be an older mum and what was the rush? Plenty of women were having children in their late thirties and early forties. Despite her doctor telling her she was geriatric when it came to having children, even three years ago.

‘Jesus,’ she had said to Dr Sawyers. ‘I am not geriatric, I’m in my prime.’

Dr Sawyers nodded sagely, his plethoric face not looking up from his notes. ‘You may be having the time of your life.’ He paused. ‘But your ovaries are not.’

With that, aged thirty-nine she told Hugh they had to go at it like rabbits. Admittedly some of the romance was taken out of the moment with statements like that but this was a matter of urgency; a time bomb no professional could disarm. She had to get pregnant.

Only, as if Sod had laid down his law, a month later Hugh found out he had terminal cancer. Suddenly she didn’t want children, she just wanted to spend every moment she could with her husband. He would become so tired and immobile, that she couldn’t bear to watch. They hugged and kissed like each day was their last together but children were soon swept from her mind. That wasn’t to say she didn’t wish she could keep a part of Hugh here, with her, but she was consumed with guilt about bringing children into the world under those circumstances.

Daisy was abruptly brought out of her reverie by the sound of another car coming up the drive and realised she hadn’t actually moved since Lisa left.

James, in his Maserati, roared up to where she stood and hopped out. He walked quickly over to her and took her in a warm, comforting hug.

‘Daisy, how you doing?’ He eyed her bag. ‘Been out shopping? That’s good.’

She wanted to point out that she was still able to dress herself, eat and move. Hugh’s death hadn’t taken those facilities from her, but she knew, deep down, he was just being kind and she was being entirely unreasonable. She always wanted to look like a strong woman around James, when in fact, right now, she wished he would just hug her again.

‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘Lisa thought it was a good idea to go to the shopping mall in Bristol. She bought jeans which make her already stunning body look more… stunning.’ Daisy smiled. ‘I, on the other hand, was beached on the shore of Levi’s Land and decided make-up was probably a better bet for someone like me. Oh, and wide trousers.’

He laughed, his kind eyes lighting up, but when Daisy’s eyes fell to what looked like an envelope in his hand, he immediately stopped and grew seemingly tense.

‘What did you want to give me, James?’ She almost dared not to ask. ‘Is it that envelope?’

She heard his breath catch. ‘Yes.’ He indicated to the house. ‘Shall we go in? Only I think it’s best if you’re sitting down.’

She nodded in agreement, her heart quickening. They walked towards the solid oak front door. She opened her bag and found the key. Daisy didn’t like to open the door when she had company; the dull ache she felt every time she realised Hugh wouldn’t be there made her feel quite light-headed.

‘Are you OK?’

She felt James’s hand on her arm, warm and firm.

‘Yes,’ she murmured, a lump in her throat. ‘I just find certain things a bit hard still.’ She looked up at James who nodded and bit his lip; almost as if he was dreading showing her whatever was in that envelope. ‘Let’s go through to the kitchen, have a cup of tea.’

She felt happiest there and, at this time of year, she could see the snowdrops scattered across the lawn.

As she busied herself filling the kettle and placing it on the Aga, James sat and nervously handled the envelope.

‘So anything new?’ She knew it hadn’t been easy for him either, losing both a best friend and colleague. ‘Any girlfriend on the scene?’ She always asked this, braced for him to one day confirm he was seeing someone. She could only describe the feeling as jealousy but why should she be jealous of James loving another woman? They were just friends…

‘Nothing new.’ James’s face grew grim. ‘I miss him at work, the whole place changed after Hugh’s death. It’s probably as it always has been but I can’t even look at the water cooler without thinking about him. I know he wasn’t there for quite big chunks of time towards the end anyway but just knowing that…’ His voice trailed off. ‘Well, I don’t need to explain it to you.’

She turned and appraised James. He looked older, with deeper lines around his eyes, since Hugh’s death, but he was still as rugged and gorgeous as ever. She and Hugh had always joked that he should have been a model and not hidden away in the world of banking.

‘No,’ Daisy agreed and put a mug of steaming tea in front of him. ‘You have every right, though, to feel as cut up as I do. Anyone who knew Hugh does.’ Daisy smiled tenderly at James. ‘You know he had such a great effect on so many people’s lives. And he could, also, be the most boring old fart on two legs.’

James barked out a laugh and then grew self-conscious as though he felt he shouldn’t allow himself to be happy.

‘Laugh, James, when you can. We are allowed to laugh.’ Daisy had no idea when she had become such an expert but maybe she was beginning to come through some initial phase of grieving. She was paraphrasing the book she had been given by Tom: Stop Crying and Pull Yourself Together .

Tom had presented it with such a flourish she hadn’t had the heart to tell him that the title was a bit harsh. That being said, she had actually read it and it had made her laugh aloud so, who knew, maybe it worked?

‘In fact,’ she continued, ‘I was talking to Lisa today about… moving on.’

He raised his brows. ‘Moving on? As in…’

‘Yes, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life by myself.’

‘Hmm.’ He nodded, sipping fast at his tea. He then pushed the envelope across to her.

‘It’s a letter.’ He averted his eyes. ‘If you say you’re ready to move on, maybe I was right in thinking I should give it to you today…’

She nodded.

‘From Hugh,’ he went on.

Her heart skipped a beat and her mind went into overdrive. Had he been having an affair and now had countless children – the children they’d never had – with another woman or more? Had he decided to leave his money to someone else, was his will a joke?

She put a cool hand to her forehead and breathed deeply.

‘Are you OK?’ James asked, suddenly by her side. ‘It’s not actually bad, if that’s what you’re worried about. He just asked me to give it to you when maybe you felt a bit stronger.’ He gave a small shake to his head, and pushed it at her again. ‘Sorry, I’m making it sound awful. Just read it.’