Page 10 of The Only Way Is Up

‘For beating you in a tennis match nineteen years ago?’ said Tom incredulously. ‘Or was he driving the car too?’

‘It’s not just that he beat me,’ explained Marcus. ‘He was a proper smug wanker about it.’

Tom laughed. ‘You were, what, fourteen? All boys that age are smug wankers.’

‘Still,’ Marcus grinned. ‘Might be fun to try. Liven things up a bit around here.’

‘Maybe she won’t fall for your charms, mate,’ shouted Justin from the kitchen. ‘I’ve met her, and she’s in a whole other league.’

‘Yeah, but she’s still a woman.’ Marcus’s confidence was something Tom could only aspire to. ‘A bored, middle-aged woman, probably with a shitty backhand. They’re my speciality. Justin, tell Tom what she was like.’

Justin wandered in from the kitchen, carrying three mugs of herb tea that smelled like the school compost heap. He handed one each to Tom and Marcus, both of whom immediately abandoned it on the coffee table.

‘I liked her.’ Justin sat down on the sofa next to Tom. ‘Beautiful, obviously, but not in a super-glam way. She didn’t have a scrap of make up on when I met her last week and looked amazing. Quite an achievement considering what she’s been through.’

‘Did you even know what she’d been through?’ Tom was aware that Justin had no TV or radio, and definitely no internet.

‘Didn’t have a clue,’ Justin said amiably. ‘I had to go to the pub to get the lowdown. I feel like the only man in the country who hasn’t seen Daisy Crawford’s minge.’

‘I can show you if you like,’ Marcus announced cheerfully, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

‘I’ll pass,’ said Justin, holding up his hand. ‘Lady bits are very much not my bag.’

‘Well, I’ll bag it on your behalf,’ Marcus grinned. ‘Bet you both twenty quid. But don’t say anything about how I know Christian. Might put her off.’

Tom shook his head, torn between amusement at Marcus’s confidence and outrage on Daisy’s behalf. He pushed that aside, confident that she was a woman he could never, ever be friends with.

‘I’m not getting involved in your sordid little games.’ He stood up, quickly pulling his coat on before Justin could make him drink the evil tea. ‘Must get Henry home.’

‘The game is ON, my friend,’ Marcus said, happily ignoring Tom.

‘She’s way out of your league,’ Justin replied. Tom could still hear them bickering as he led Henry out, closing the front door firmly behind him. He glanced at Willow Cottage again and saw that the lounge curtains had been opened. So, she was definitely in, then. The woman who’d hovered at the edge of his and Tessa’s marriage, even though she’d never known a thing about it. He tried not to let the old resentments bubble to the surface, but everything felt so overwhelming. He’d stopped trying to make sense of it years ago.

CHAPTER SIX

Justin drained his mug of coffee and held it out to Daisy for a refill. She smiled and passed him a plastic box filled with homemade coconut macaroons.

‘Dear God, you’re an angel,’ Justin crooned. ‘How have your first couple of weeks been?’ He stuffed a macaroon into his mouth and made a sound like he was having a tiny orgasm.

‘Unexpectedly busy,’ replied Daisy. ‘You’ve inspired me to write another cookbook. My agent has been nagging me to do it for years.’

‘Blimey, I’m honoured.’ Justin took another macaroon. ‘What’s this one about?’

‘Cooking for teenagers,’ Daisy said. ‘I wrote a baby cookbook when Ruby was little, then another when she was eight with lots of recipes to make with your kids. This one completes the set; I’m hoping Ruby might help me write it.’

‘Is that likely?’ Justin pulled a sceptical face.

‘Probably not, but she’ll happily take her share of the royalties.’

‘Must be nice to know it will be an instant bestseller,’ Justin grumbled.

Daisy didn’t deny it. There was no point. Even with everything that was going on, Spotlight brought her an instant audience. ‘If it’s any consolation, it will piss off my mother no end.’

‘How come?’

‘She’s Stella Crawford. She presented TV cooking shows in the eighties.’

‘Shit, I’d forgotten that!’ Justin waved his biscuit about. ‘I’m pretty sure I remember learning to make a scotch egg from one of her books. Didn’t they base school Home Economics lessons on her stuff?’