Page 78 of The Only Way Is Up

‘I rather hoped you would,’ replied Daisy, imagining what it might be like to wake up next to this beautiful man. ‘It’s so gorgeous here though, I don’t know how I’ll be able to leave.’ She wound down the window, breathing in the icy air. ‘Did you grow up here?’

‘No, East Sussex. My first teaching job after qualifying was in Cheltenham, then I moved to Shipton Combe about eight years ago.’

‘What did you teach?’ asked Daisy.

‘Geography. This is a nice bit of the country for teaching kids about weather and land use, topography, that kind of stuff.’ He glanced sideways at Daisy, like he was checking she hadn’t fallen asleep. ‘I even know where there’s an oxbow lake.’

Daisy sat up, her eyes wide with fake shock. ‘No way!’

Tom laughed. ‘Yup. It’s on the River Severn, but I can’t tell you where. It’s a secret only geography teachers know.’

‘I’ll force it out of you. Get you drunk and make you tell,’ she teased, pleased when Tom grinned. ‘What about your family? You never mention them.’

Tom shrugged. ‘Not much to tell. My dad died when I was fifteen, then six months later my mother married an old family friend. He had a truckload of money so as soon I went to university they retired and started travelling the world. They’ve now been on holiday for nearly twenty-five years.’

‘You’re kidding.’ Daisy’s eyes were wide at the idea.

‘Nope. They spend half the year in the UK for tax and residency reasons, although they’re always off touring the lakes or Cornwall or wherever. They’re currently on a six-week cruise of the Pacific. I had a postcard from Tahiti last week.’

‘Wow! No brothers or sisters?’

‘One of each. Both older than me; both abroad. My sister Ellie is married to a former Swedish popstar; they run a record label in Stockholm. My brother Jonathan owns a beach bar in Honduras.’

‘Stop it. You’re making that up!’

‘I’m not,’ Tom grinned. ‘I spent last October half-term with Jonny. We drank beer on his boat and caught fish like real men.’ He puffed out his chest.

‘OK, you’re definitely making it up.’

Tom shrugged. ‘I don’t know what to say. We’re less than an hour into our first date and you’re already calling me a liar.’

Daisy leaned back into her seat, feeling that warm feeling again. ‘So, how’s this first date going for you so far?’

Tom was silent for a moment. ‘Well, you’re in my car, we’ve got a whole day together and there’s a good chance I might get to kiss you again . . . I’d say it was going pretty well.’

By the time they finished their hike almost five hours later, Daisy had seen enough snowy fields and winter hedgerows to last a lifetime, although she obviously wouldn’t tell Tom that. The boutique hotel and gastropub where they parked was a very welcome finish point, with honey-stone buildings clustered around a gravel courtyard scattered with snow-capped ornamental trees. They dumped the rucksack in the car and headed to one of the picnic benches outside the pub, laughing at how Daisy had fallen in a patch of brambles, got a splinter in her hand from an ancient farm gate and ended up with leggings that were cold and damp from the snow. But she’d also laughed until her sides hurt and climbed a couple of thigh-burner hills at a pace that made her feel more alive than she had in weeks. Even her pasties hadn’t been bad – or maybe it was the fact she’d eaten them with a man who kept looking at her like she was a goddess.

At one point Tom had taken her hand to help her over a wooden stile and not let go, stroking his thumb along her palm in a way that made her insides dissolve. She wondered if he might kiss her at some point, maybe press her up against the trunk of a snow-laden tree like one of those crappy Netflix films she and Ruby liked to watch at Christmas, but he was clearly determined to spend their first date courting her like some Jane Austen hero. It was delightful and arousing in equal measure, particularly after six months dating a man like Christian who’d had his fingers inside her before she’d finished saying good morning. Tom’s chivalry made a rather refreshing change, but it also made Daisy all the more determined to get him naked as soon as possible.

‘Here you go, half a cider.’ Daisy put the drinks down on the table. She held hers up until Tom chinked her glass. ‘Cheers. Thank you for a lovely walk.’ Daisy sat down opposite him, straddling the wooden bench.

Tom smiled and took a sip. ‘You’re very welcome.’ He gestured to her glass. ‘You don’t strike me as the cider type.’

‘I’m not usually,’ she admitted, ‘but we’re in the West Country so it feels like the done thing. I’m not much of a drinker at all, really.’ Daisy thought of the occasions Tom had seen her knocking back wine and added hurriedly, ‘My birthday party was an exception to a strict three-drink rule. But I usually drink white wine. Never red.’

‘What happens if you drink red?’

‘Pray you never find out.’ Daisy crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out. Tom laughed. She looked up at the beautiful old buildings around them, the stone glowing almost orange in the afternoon sun. ‘What’s this hotel like?’

Tom shrugged. ‘No idea, never stayed here. But I’ve heard it’s pretty swish.’

Daisy closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Sometimes it paid to seize the moment. ‘Good. Because I booked us a room when I went to the bar.’

Tom’s eyes widened with surprise.

‘I’m feeling impulsive, among other things. Do you think Angela would keep Henry for the night?’

Tom put down his glass and swallowed. ‘I’m sure she would.’