Page 55 of The Only Way Is Up

‘We can go to the pub,’ suggested Stella. ‘Save anyone having to cook.’ Daisy could have hugged her.

‘Do you want Will to come?’ Daisy asked Ruby. ‘So he can meet your dad?’

‘Ooh, YES’, Simon exclaimed. ‘I can do my fatherly stern face, ask him about his intentions for my little girl.’

‘Actually, that’s a no,’ said Ruby quickly. ‘He’s going to want to spend some time with his dad after a week away, but I’ll pop round before dinner to say goodbye if we’re going tonight.’

Daisy nodded sagely. ‘Very wise decision.’

Simon quickly rallied. ‘And since we’re talking about inviting boyfriends,’ he said casually, turning to Daisy, ‘how about the hunky headmaster?’

Daisy rolled her eyes and unloaded the bags from the boot of the car. ‘I’ve only been back five minutes, Si,’ she mumbled. ‘Just put the kettle on, will you?’

Despite not really having the space or the availability four days before Christmas, Lesley the landlady was more than happy to squeeze a table for five into a quiet nook of the Shipton Arms, particularly when Daisy put the call in. By the time they arrived it felt the whole village was in situ, craning their necks to get a look at Daisy and Simon as they walked through the bar. Daisy waved at Justin, who was sipping water at the bar with Marcus, while Miriam was sat in the far corner with various people from the church committee, nursing what looked like an orange juice. She was too busy gesticulating to acknowledge the new arrivals, although everyone else in the group was rubbernecking. Daisy scanned the pub for Tom, torn between wanting to see his face and desperately hoping he wasn’t there. But there was no sign of him, so she breathed a little more easily.

Ruby sat at the head of the table with Simon on her left and Daisy on her right, so Stella sat next to Simon and Archie took up the final chair opposite her. He’d brought Hank, who sat on his lap with his tongue hanging out, happily observing the goings-on around him. Archie was older than Simon by a good decade and was, without question, the most stylish man Daisy had ever met. This evening he wore an exquisitely tailored tweed waistcoat with a fitted cream shirt and designer dark green cords, and had a red handkerchief tucked into his breast pocket. He’d been in the Cotswolds for barely a few hours and had already assumed the look of the perfectly groomed, country gentleman à la GQ. Not many men could pull that off with such panache, but Archie absolutely nailed it. Daisy had to admire him, even if he had stolen her husband.

It takes two to tango, thought Daisy. And by all accounts they’d been dancing for some months before Simon came clean and told her the truth. Over time she’d trained herself to think about it without pain; the fact that Simon was so happy and Archie so charming made it considerably easier.

‘He’s not food-motivated like other dogs.’ Archie looked lovingly at the dog, who in turn looked at Daisy and panted happily. ‘He wants love and attention. So you need to show him that good behaviour will mean you’ll give him lots of fuss.’ Daisy raised her eyebrows. Archie rarely seemed to put Hank down, so he was in for a bleak and lonely few weeks with Daisy.

She smiled and patted Hank’s head reassuringly, half-listening to Ruby telling her dad all about their trip. Ruby had Daisy’s fair skin and hair, but her cheekbones and brown eyes were all Simon’s. They’d been quite the celebrity family back in the day – Simon was still remembered fondly from his time on Breakfast TV, but now he wrote erotic thrillers for a living and was more than happy to tap away in the attic room at home and leave the spotlight to Daisy. For a while though, they’d been TV’s dream couple, so it was no wonder half the pub was tying themselves in knots to get a look at them.

When the wine arrived Daisy noticed Stella covering her glass and shaking her head, which made her wonder if she’d spent last night getting hammered with Justin. It wasn’t like her mother to refuse a drink. Daisy surreptitiously watched her for a minute or two, observing that she didn’t look hungover. In fact, even in the dim light of the pub, Stella looked remarkably well – clear-eyed and healthy, without the veiny cheeks and saggy skin that were signs that she was well into the drink. She’d brought all her belongings back to the pub with her, checking back into the room with the horrible wisteria wallpaper without any fuss. Daisy hadn’t spent much time in Willow Cottage before they’d left for dinner, but she did notice that it had been cleaned and the sheets changed. So maybe she wasn’t giving her mum enough credit.

‘I have a question for you,’ Daisy said nervously. She’d been battling with the logic of this idea ever since she’d thought of it in the hot tub in Austria, and still wasn’t completely convinced it was the way to go. She and Stella had a turbulent relationship, and there was a risk this would dial up the drama.

‘Go on,’ Stella encouraged, taking a sip of water.

‘It’s about my cookbook—’

‘OUR cookbook,’ interrupted Ruby with an exaggerated glare.

Daisy rolled her eyes. ‘You haven’t even looked at the recipes. But you’ll still get your picture on the cover and take half the royalties without doing a single minute of work.’

Ruby shrugged and grinned. ‘You need me. I’m your angle. You can’t write a cookbook for teenagers without a teenager.’

‘Hmm.’ Daisy turned back to Stella. ‘Anyway, I need to test all the recipes and the headmaster—’ she glared at Simon and Archie, whose ears had pricked up, ‘the headmaster has offered to organise some after-school sessions.’

‘I bet he has,’ smirked Simon, making Archie snort.

‘With the kids,’ Daisy hissed, ‘like a cooking club. So, I wondered if you might help.’

‘Me?’ Stella’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘What kind of help?’

Daisy took a deep breath, wondering if she might live to regret this. ‘Well, actually I was hoping you might run the classes. That’s your speciality, after all.’

Stella’s face softened into a beaming smile. ‘Well, that’s very kind of you to say so. I’m sure I can help.’

‘Lovely.’ Daisy watched as Stella placed her hand over her glass, refusing Simon’s offer of wine again. Maybe it would all be OK.

‘How many are you going to have in a class, Mum?’ asked Ruby.

‘Quite a few, I think. Maybe twenty or so, and four or five classes. It’s going to be brilliant research for the book.’

Stella frowned and pondered for a minute or two while everyone perused the menu. ‘Twenty is quite a lot of pupils for one teacher. Could Justin help too?’

Daisy hadn’t thought about Justin, but it made a lot of sense. He was an experienced chef and the kids already knew and liked him. ‘That’s an interesting idea,’ she said slowly. ‘Do you think he’d want to get involved?’