Page 12 of The Only Way Is Up

‘I can’t imagine Daisy would find that very interesting,’ said Tom. ‘I’m sure we all seem quite sleepy and boring compared to . . .’ he trailed off and took another swig of mead, suddenly fascinated by the books on Justin’s shelf.

‘Compared to what?’ said Daisy, infuriated that he wouldn’t look at her. He’d barely glanced at her all evening; she felt like a ghost. ‘All my exciting celebrity friends?’

Tom shrugged and stacked up the pudding bowls, then took them into the kitchen.

‘I’m sorry,’ whispered Justin, looking mortified. ‘I’ve never known him like this before, otherwise I wouldn’t have put you in the same room. I’ve got no idea what’s up.’

Daisy smiled like it couldn’t matter less, even though it stung like hell. But Justin had more than made up for Tom, and she’d somehow managed to have a fun evening despite the malevolent prick sending bad vibes over the table. She hoped he was nicer to his dog than he was to women.

She looked up, to see Tom staring at her from the doorway to the kitchen. The expression on his face was unfathomable – it could be hatred or pain or lust – but she could feel the depth and intensity of it, like he suddenly knew all her secrets. She shivered and felt heat flood to her cheeks, and this time she was the one who looked away first.

‘I’m off,’ she said, giving Tom a nod and Justin a heartfelt hug before she wobbled back to her cottage, warmed by mead and the pleasure of laughing herself silly with a new friend. After a hot shower, Daisy dragged her flushed and tingling body into bed, trying to push away the creeping mead-induced headache and thoughts of horrible headmasters by getting her vibrator out of her underwear drawer with a view to achieving a sleep-inducing orgasm. She closed her eyes and imagined Christian’s beautiful hands and deft tongue flickering across her body, but in the end it was Tom Clark’s brooding, stricken face buried between her legs that sent her tumbling over the edge as the rain started to hammer against her window.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Daisy and Ruby chatted about nothing much as they waited for their table to be ready in the Shipton Arms, both of them pretending that the entire pub wasn’t breaking their necks to get a look at them.

‘Do you think they got this because of you?’ asked Ruby, picking up a monthly women’s magazine from the table of reading matter by the front door. It had Daisy’s face on the cover, issued a couple of weeks before The Incident.

‘I have no idea,’ said Daisy, smiling at the landlady as she led them to a quiet table in a nook by the huge fireplace, away from all the other diners. Daisy chose the chair that positioned her with her back to the room, so she could enjoy her lunch without feeling like a zoo exhibit.

‘It’s a nice picture, it’s just a shame it doesn’t look anything like you,’ Ruby smirked, holding up the magazine. Daisy’s beaming face smiled back, alongside the headline ‘Beauty Secrets from the Queen of the Spotlight’.

Daisy couldn’t deny that the glossy-haired blonde on the cover of Womanhood magazine bore little resemblance to the real thing. In the right light with the support of an army of stylists and makeup professionals, Daisy could look about seventy-five per cent as fabulous as this. But the magazine had worked some extra digital magic, blurring out every tiny blemish and wrinkle, whitening her teeth and adding extra lift and gloss to her artfully curled hair. She also vaguely remembered a wind machine, but that might have been a different photoshoot. Any signposts towards middle-aged turkey neck were covered by a heavy turtleneck sweater up to her chin. She looked pink-cheeked and sparkling, like she’d just come in from a brisk autumn walk and was ready for an afternoon making jam and listening to Radio 4.

Ruby soon tired of the magazine; the interviews were all the same and her mother’s face on the cover was old news. Daisy realised how little time they’d spent just the two of them this year – they were always in the company of Simon or Christian or a group of friends. In a couple of months Ruby would be sixteen, and it felt like the clock was ticking on their quality time together. Talking of which, there was a conversation she needed to have with her daughter, and right now seemed like as good a time as any.

‘Rubes,’ said Daisy carefully, ‘we need to talk about Christian.’

Ruby rolled her eyes. ‘And we were having such a nice day. Why did you have to spoil it?’ She gave her mother a bucket of side-eye, then pretended to read the menu.

‘Please don’t be a bitch.’ Daisy pursed her lips. ‘It doesn’t suit you. I’ve said sorry a hundred times.’ Ruby looked contrite, so Daisy ploughed on. ‘Look, when all this noise has died down, he and I are going to start making wedding plans. I’d really like you to help. It might be fun.’

Ruby looked unimpressed and gave a theatrical yawn. ‘It might be fun, I guess. If you weren’t marrying Christian.’

Daisy sat back in her chair, trying not to get defensive. ‘What is it, Rubes? Is Christian really the problem, or is it just that I’m getting married again? Your dad is fine with it.’

Ruby’s head snapped upright, her face thunderous and so very like her father’s. ‘It’s got NOTHING to do with you getting married again, and actually Dad isn’t fine with it at all. He hates Christian too.’

This was news to Daisy. Clearly, she and Simon needed to have a chat. She took a deep breath. ‘Hate is quite a strong word, Rubes. What specifically are your objections?’

Ruby put her water glass on the table and folded her arms. ‘Fine. He’s a selfish manbaby, and I think he’s using you to boost his TV career.’

Daisy flinched. ‘Selfish manbaby’ was definitely a phrase that had come from Simon’s mouth. ‘Anything else?’

‘Yes. He looks at other women when you’re together,’ continued Ruby, ‘like he wants to have sex with them. I’ve seen him do it, and it’s creepy. Why don’t you mind about that?’

Daisy stared at Ruby, not knowing what to say. It shocked her to hear her little girl talking about Christian’s wandering eye. Of course she’d noticed, but she’d put it down to his ridiculous sex drive. The man was horny all the time; he thought about nothing else. She’d brushed it aside as just window shopping.

‘Somebody at school sent me this thing they found online.’ Ruby picked up her phone and scrolled through her WhatsApps.

‘What thing?’

‘A gossip newsletter. I don’t know, maybe it’s not about Christian. But it felt weird. Here.’

Daisy took the phone from Ruby and scrolled through the text. A funny story about a pop star, a rumour about a member of the royal family. Then a paragraph that made her heart stop.

Which hunky sporting star is known to be knocking up with his female personal trainer? He’s not only been doing extra-curricular workouts behind his famous fiancée’s back, but he’s also been spotted honing his backhand at exclusive Soho sex parties. New balls, please . . .