Page 72 of The Only Way Is Up

‘Don’t forget to make a wish,’ called Stella.

Daisy’s head felt woozy as she breathed in a new scent in the room, something that felt strangely familiar but also made her inexplicably anxious. Her face felt warm and her head was spinning, she’d almost certainly had too much to drink. She took a deep breath and blew out the candles, then pressed her palms together in front of her lips, the faint smell of Tom’s jeans on her left hand mingling with the unsettlingly overpowering fragrance in the air and making her heart pound. She closed her eyes and made a wish.

‘Don’t tell us what you wished for,’ she heard Ruby say.

Yeah, that’s definitely not happening.

Everyone clapped and cheered as the lights came on again and the waitress stepped forward with a huge cake knife. It took a few seconds for Daisy’s eyes to adjust and focus, and even longer for her brain to process the inarguable fact that Christian was standing next to her, grinning like a naughty schoolboy.

‘Surprise!’ he announced, doing half-hearted jazz hands. He was wearing a fawn wool coat over a black turtleneck and looked like a Columbian drug baron. ‘Happy birthday!’ Then when Daisy continued to stare at him, added a feeble ‘Yay!’ for good measure.

The table had fallen silent, staring at them in a mix of shock, horror and confusion at the new arrival. Daisy saw a few pennies drop as Melanie and Justin realised finally who Christian was, and Tom had his hand clamped across his mouth, looking like he might throw up. Marcus was staring at Christian with a steely glare, like he wanted to strangle him, but that was nothing compared to the killer death stare on Ruby’s face. Gerald cleared his throat and brandished two bottles of wine. ‘Anyone for a top-up?’ Multiple glasses were thrust in his direction and everyone started chuntering awkwardly.

Daisy glanced at the waitress, who silently withdrew the cake knife. ‘Outside!’ she spat at Christian, standing up and dropping her linen napkin on the table. ‘Now.’ The table fell silent again as they left.

‘What the fuck are you playing at?!’ Daisy stage-whispered.

They were standing in the road outside the pub, far enough away from the cluster of smokers to avoid being overheard, although it was clear from the fevered whispering that everyone was trying their hardest. She searched the crowd for Ruby and Tom and saw two people who could be them, but everything was in shadow and she couldn’t be sure.

‘I wanted to surprise you on your birthday,’ Christian said feebly. ‘I’ve got stuff I need to say.’ His icy breath formed tiny clouds above his head, like speech bubbles. God, he was infuriating.

‘How did you find me?’ she demanded, unable to believe she was having this conversation for the second time in a month.

‘I knew you weren’t in London. I got a friend to do a drive-by and your house was all locked up and dark. And there were no photos on Instagram of you sipping a pina colada in a hammock under a palm tree.’ He tried a brief smile but it withered under Daisy’s glare.

‘How did you find me HERE?’ She gestured to the pub, wondering not for the first time who in the village was sharing her whereabouts.

‘Oh,’ Christian muttered, avoiding her eyes. ‘I got lucky. I thought I’d ask at the pub where you lived, but it turned out you were actually here.’ He looked about him. ‘Bit slummy for you, isn’t it?—’

‘You can’t keep doing this,’ Daisy shrieked. ‘Just turn up, demanding to speak to me. This isn’t OK, Christian. We had a deal.’ Daisy felt like she was on stage, spotlit by the sodium glow from the street lights. She saw someone push back the curtains in the function room and open the glass doors, flooding more light out onto the street. She should really take Christian back to the cottage, away from all the phone cameras, but what she wanted was for him to leave so she could get back to her friends and pretend this had never happened.

‘I got a taxi here from Heathrow. I needed to see you,’ he said quickly before she could interrupt. ‘I’ve changed, Daisy. I’ve spent four weeks in therapy, peeling back the layers of my life like a mouldy onion. All my fears, failures, instincts, compulsions.’

Daisy said nothing, in no doubt that he’d been practising this little speech for ninety miles. Her head throbbed, unwilling to accept that Christian had done this to her again. But just like Vergallen, the quickest way to get rid of him was to let him make his little speech and get whatever alleged burden he was carrying off his chest.

‘I’ve learnt about my issues with intimacy, my attitude to women, the way I use sex to boost my self-esteem. I’ve written you so many letters, but I didn’t send them. I wanted to tell you in person.’

‘Tell me what?’ Daisy suddenly felt jittery and nervous. Please, no!

‘I love you, Daisy,’ Christian declared, his face pleading and desperate. ‘You asked me once to say it and I couldn’t. But now I can. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So I got this in Switzerland.’ He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a tiny blue box.

Oh Jesus fucking Christ, thought Daisy, wondering how this evening had spiralled out of control so quickly. Ten minutes ago she’d been happily drunk and feeling Tom up under the table, now her ex-fiancé was about to drop to one knee.

Christian opened the box, revealing a ring with a diamond the size of an almond. It was hideous, not her kind of thing at all. Her stomach churned with panic and booze. ‘Christian, don’t. It’s absolutely a no. I don’t want—’

‘Daisy, is everything OK?’ Marcus appeared in the road, his arms folded like a nightclub bouncer. His eyes darted to the ring glittering in the streetlights and he visibly faltered, backing away with his palms up. ‘Oh. Fuck. I’m so sorry.’

‘Marcus, it’s fine,’ said Daisy, not wanting him to misread the situation. She saw Tom framed in the doorway behind him and her heart sank.

Daisy turned back to Christian, but he’d closed the ring box and was edging across the street towards Marcus, his eyes narrowed. ‘Who the fuck are you?’ he asked, puffing out his chest.

Marcus gave a hollow laugh. ‘Like you don’t already know.’ Daisy wondered if she’d misheard and tried to make sense of it, but it all felt other-worldly, like she was watching a crappy film full of terrible actors. Their voices were too loud and now everyone from the pub was either outside or leaning out of windows to get a good view. Most of her guests were now on the street. She could see the pinprick lights from phones, either taking photographs or videos, probably both. It was just like the night of The Incident, and she could feel the panic rising in her chest.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ Christian had squared up, his face a few inches from Marcus’s. Daisy noticed that the ring had gone, presumably back into his pocket. Christian looked back at Daisy with a bitter, taunting smile. ‘Is Marcus Elliot the best you could do, Dais? Really?’

The punch came from nowhere, on the side of Christian’s face while his head was still half-turned towards Daisy. She heard a scream as he landed like a sack of potatoes at her feet, then realised the noise was coming from her. Christian moaned in pain, curling up into a ball to shield his major organs.

Marcus moved towards them, his breathing heavy and his face white as a sheet as he tried to throw in a few extra kicks before Justin charged in from nowhere, pinning his arms down and wrestling him away. Tom weighed in and crouched down to restrain Christian, who was now hurling abuse at Marcus’s retreating back, but not actually attempting to follow him. Daisy was aware of a lot of noise and bustle, but her head was spinning. She stood there for a few seconds, taking in the scene, unable to make sense of what had just happened.