Page 71 of The Only Way Is Up

‘There are two tubs in the kitchen,’ he grumbled. ‘Beige chicken with beige vegetables, followed by the last of my stewed plums.’

‘Yummy.’

Justin cast her a baleful look. ‘I swear to God I will never touch another fucking plum unless it’s dangling between the legs of a comely gentleman.’ Archie arched an eyebrow from across the table.

Daisy snorted into her wine. She’d miss Justin when she left Shipton Combe, but his sustainable year finished in February so hopefully they could hang out together when he was back in London.

‘Talking of comely gentlemen,’ whispered Justin. ‘Your ex and his bloke are both gorgeous. I’m hoping you’re going to move us all around before dessert so I can flirt shamelessly and wheedle my way into their celebrity gay circle.’

‘Is that even a thing?’ asked Daisy, not keen on moving away from Tom, whose thigh was now pressed firmly against hers and burning a hole through her dress.

‘No idea, but it will give me something to think about later.’ He turned to Miriam and raised his voice a notch. ‘So Vicar, how’s the plan for the fete coming on?’

‘Oh,’ stuttered Miriam, dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin. ‘Very well, I think. Especially now you and Stella have offered to do some cooking demonstrations. It’s created a lot of excitement on the Facebook page, and the local paper has confirmed they’re sending a reporter.’

‘That’s great news,’ Daisy said, genuinely delighted that the celebrity spotlight wasn’t all going to be on her. ‘Hopefully you’ll raise the funds you need to get the vestry repairs done.’ She turned to Marcus before Miriam launched into a monologue about the specific jobs that needed doing in the vestry. ‘More wine?’

Marcus nodded and smiled, clearly happy to be seated next to Daisy and the focus of her attention, however briefly. They’d played tennis four times in the past couple of weeks, always mixed doubles where she partnered with Justin and Marcus played with Melanie. Now Marcus had finally realised that Daisy categorically didn’t fancy him and had stopped strutting like a peacock, she’d decided she rather liked him. He was a good coach with a dry sense of humour, and always had an encouraging word for Melanie. Daisy had heard from Justin that he was thinking of moving in with his girlfriend; a woman called Gloria who played at his tennis club. Hopefully things would work out for him. Much like Christian, once you stripped away all the bullshit and bravado, Marcus just needed the love of a good woman. Or in Christian’s case, several women at once.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Tom had lost his appetite somewhere around the time Daisy’s left hand slid onto his right knee, beginning its painfully slow navigation north. Occasionally she’d change course and head south again or withdraw her hand briefly to innocently tuck her hair behind her ear or top up her wine glass. Then the hand would return to where it started, beginning again on its excruciating but delicious journey.

His face felt hot and he couldn’t imagine a time in the future when his erection might have subsided enough for him to leave the table. He might have to live in the function room of the Shipton Arms forever. He silently cursed her for playing games with him this way, then cursed himself for wearing jeans that didn’t include room for a raging hard-on. He willed her to stop, then prayed she wouldn’t.

When the main course of beef wellington and gratin dauphinoise arrived, Daisy removed her left hand so she could hold a fork, giving him enough of a break for things to calm down. He made small talk with Melanie until everyone had finished eating, then excused himself to go to the bathroom, instead heading outside. The night air was cold and clean and frosty, so he sat on the stone wall outside the pub, taking deep, calming breaths and smiling to himself. He’d forgotten what it was like to feel this level of desire for a woman; the kind that writhed like a basket of snakes in the pit of your stomach and made your balls ache.

He didn’t register the man getting out of the taxi at first, other than he was tall and lean with dark hair, an expensive-looking coat and a leather holdall. Only when the man turned and paused in the glow of the streetlight did Tom realise it was Christian Walker. He smiled at Tom briefly, whisking past him with an ‘All right, mate?’ before disappearing into the pub.

After the briefest pause, Tom followed him inside, his heart pounding, trying to work out why Christian Walker would turn up in Shipton Combe on the night of Daisy’s birthday party, barely a few minutes after she’d had her hand on Tom’s crotch. None of it made sense, but he had a very bad feeling about it.

Christian was leaning on the bar, giving his most dazzling smile to Steph the barmaid, who was in her mid-twenties. She had copper hair and huge boobs that habitually spilled out of a top that was at least two sizes too small. She held a glass cloth in one hand and a giant gin glass in the other and seemed momentarily unsure what to do with either. Tom sidled up to the bar, stopping a few metres away and straining his ears to listen to their conversation.

‘Hi,’ said Christian with his best showbiz smile. ‘I know this is a strange question, but can you tell me where Daisy Crawford lives? I’m her fiancé.’

Steph smiled and nodded, leaning over the bar and lowering her voice. ‘She’s actually in there,’ she nodded towards the door that connected the pub to the function room. ‘Having a birthday dinner.’

Tom drummed his fingers on the bar nervously, realising that Christian was just about to gatecrash Daisy’s party and he had absolutely no idea what, if anything, he was supposed to do about it.

‘Well, that’s ideal.’ Christian glanced appreciatively at Steph’s impressive breasts, which were now squashed together between her elbows, creating a shelf she could have rested the gin glass on. ‘I’ll just go in.’ He moved towards the door, but stopped when Steph waved him back. Tom exhaled.

‘Wait,’ she whispered. ‘Does she know you’re coming?’

Christian walked back to the bar and leaned over so Steph’s face was only a few inches from his. ‘What’s your name?’

She gave him her most dazzling smile. ‘Steph.’

‘Well, Steph,’ said Christian, glancing from her face to her freckly cleavage. ‘Let’s just say I’m her birthday surprise.’ Tom felt like gagging.

Steph giggled and blushed. ‘I’ve got an idea,’ she said, her eyes glittering with excitement. ‘We’ve just cleared away their mains, so we’ll be doing the cake in a minute. Justella made it, it’s going to be on YouTube. Why don’t you take it through?’

Tom could see Christian pondering this suggestion, weighing up the pros and cons of such a grand public gesture. He watched the cogs turn slowly in Christian’s brain, hoping he would naturally come to the conclusion that doing the equivalent of bursting out of a birthday cake and yelling ‘Surprise!’ was a very bad idea indeed. Tom took a step towards him, wondering if he should introduce himself and offer to fetch Daisy for him, but he hesitated too long and Christian had scurried off after Steph into the kitchen.

‘Oh bloody, fucking hell!’ muttered Tom, striding back into the function room, his heart pounding in his chest, his head feeling like it was underwater. Daisy wasn’t in the seat where he’d left her – she’d moved further down the table and was deep in conversation with Simon and Ruby. He spotted Justin and hurried over to ask for his urgent help, but before he could get the words out a switch was flicked and the room was plunged into darkness.

CHAPTER FORTY

Daisy clapped her hands as the lights in the function room went out, joining in with the obligatory nervous giggles and ghostly ‘woo’ noises. A chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ started up as a dazzling halo of candles and sparklers appeared through the door, then bobbed across the dark room as if it was levitating. Somebody placed the huge cake in front of Daisy, and she watched the sparklers burn out one by one as the song finished.