Page 29 of The Only Way Is Up

‘I thought you were coming round tomorrow?’ Daisy said, ushering the woman into the kitchen.

‘I was, but I already know what my answer is, so I thought I’d come now.’ Melanie leaned against the AGA, pulling her sweatshirt tightly about her.

‘Do you want tea? You look freezing.’ Daisy filled the kettle with water and rummaged in the cupboard for biscuits.

‘Will can’t come with you,’ said Melanie, her expression pained. ‘I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the offer, but he can’t. I’m so sorry.’

Daisy had been half-expecting this, but it was still a blow. Ruby would be gutted, but at least Daisy could say she’d done her best. She put the biscuits down and turned to face Melanie. ‘Can I ask why? You can tell me it’s none of my business, if you like.’

Melanie hesitated, clearly torn about whether to offload, then she visibly deflated. ‘It’s Gerald,’ she said finally. ‘He’s a proud man, and he won’t like it. Personally, I want whatever makes Will happy. But if Will goes, Gerald will make life very difficult for me.’

Daisy’s eyes widened in horror and Melanie held up her hands, laughing shakily. ‘No, don’t get me wrong. Gerald is many things, but he isn’t violent or anything. He’s just . . . so cold.’ She looked away. ‘I can tolerate it for the small day-to-day things; Will makes everything easier. But I can’t handle a week alone with him. I’m not strong enough. I really wish I was. For Will.’

Daisy didn’t say anything for a minute, instead turning back to the kitchen counter and busying herself with making the tea. ‘Why do you stay with him, Melanie?’

Melanie sighed and hung her head. ‘I do still love him. I can’t explain it, really. And he’s Will’s father. And, yes, on a practical level, I can’t afford to leave. I don’t have any money of my own, and no family now I can turn to.’ She stared at her feet, her face red with shame. Daisy was sure there was a story there.

‘Everything we have is Gerald’s family money,’ she continued. ‘Not that there’s much of it left, but it’s enough to pay Will’s school fees and keep a roof over our heads. He only has one year left, then he’ll be off to university and not financially dependent on Gerald.’

‘What if I spoke to Gerald?’ asked Daisy. ‘Explained the situation and asked him myself? Do you still think he’d say no?’ Daisy handed over a mug of tea, which Melanie hugged gratefully. Her knuckles were white with tension.

Melanie shook her head bleakly. ‘He’d say yes. Will would never forgive him if he said no, and he does care what Will thinks, even if he doesn’t show it. But he’d still make life miserable for me while you were away. It would be unbearable. I’m so sorry. I know that’s selfish.’

Daisy thought for a few seconds, then put her mug down and faced Melanie squarely, hands on her hips. ‘Fine,’ she said decisively. ‘There’s nothing else for it, I’m afraid.’ She smiled at the woman broadly. ‘You’re just going to have to come with us.’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

‘Remind me why we’re doing this, again?’

Daisy’s left arm was wedged against the door to the van, her right pressed into Stella’s shoulder. Her mother smelled of hairspray and patchouli; the ancient van reeked of manure. The combination reminded her of a boutique music festival she and Simon had once gone to on a farm in Wales, bopping along to Toploader in a slurry-splattered barn. Sometimes it felt like the blisters from that weekend of dancing in rubber wellies had lasted longer than her marriage.

‘I told Justin I’d go with him to the pig place—’ Stella murmured, looking out of the window at the passing greenery.

‘The pig place,’ Daisy raised her eyebrows.

‘She means the slaughterhouse,’ said Justin with a grin. ‘It’s time for Pig Three to meet her maker.’

‘I thought it would be a nice opportunity for us to spend some time together. A little adventure,’ Stella continued, ignoring both of them.

‘Whose van is this?’ asked Daisy. She knew she sounded tetchy, but she was tired and far from looking forward to dealing with Gerald later. Not for the first time she wished she was back at the cottage, lounging on the sofa, rather than trapped in a fusty old van with her mother, Justin and a doomed pig. But by agreeing to ‘go on a little road trip’ with her mother now, she could maybe avoid having a one-on-one lunch with her later. She’d cross her fingers if she could move her arms.

‘It’s mine,’ said Justin. ‘I sold my midlife crisis motorbike when I started this fucking nightmare and bought this instead. It’s much more useful for lugging firewood and livestock.’

‘Poor Prue,’ said Stella sadly.

‘Who’s Prue?’ asked Daisy.

‘That’s the name the students gave Pig Three,’ said Justin with a grin. ‘They named them all after famous TV chefs. I prefer not to give them human names: it makes them harder to kill. Easy for the kids, they’re not the ones who have to make this journey and pick up a butchered carcass at the other end.’

‘So, where are Pigs One and Two?’ asked Daisy, although she suspected she knew the answer.

‘Ah, Gordon and Delia,’ said Justin wistfully. ‘They both met Mark the Slaughterman just in time for Halloween.’

‘How very . . . appropriate,’ mused Daisy.

‘So why are there two pigs in the back,’ asked Stella, ‘if only Prue is being put to sleep?’

Daisy smiled wryly at Stella’s sugar-coating of today’s outing, then twisted in her seat to look through the tiny window into the back of the van. There were two happy-looking pigs snuffling around in a bed of straw.