Daisy's Secret (42 page)

‘Hello little Robbie. I’m so very pleased to see you again.’ She stopped, alarmed by the implication of what she’d just said, almost fearful of the baby understanding. Nothing had been proved yet. No decisions made. ‘What I mean is, none of this muddle is your fault, and I’m not sure how it’s all going to work out but - but I am glad you’re here, truly I am. I don’t want you to feel unwanted. I hate the thought of you being abandoned because Annie has been - because she’s no longer able to take care of you. Lot’s of people here at Lane End Farm are in the same boat, so you’re very welcome, you really are. And somehow, we’ll find the answer.’

She was rewarded with a huge smile and Daisy was able to see, quite clearly, that he had eight teeth, four along the top and another four along the bottom. He was a fine baby. Annie had looked after him well. Unable to resist, she smiled back which lit up his small face still further and he gave a gurgle of delight. And then he spoke: ‘Mama,’ he said.

Daisy’s vision was suddenly blinded by tears, and she turned and rushed out, back to her own attic room right at the top of the house where she sobbed her heart out. She felt drained afterwards, and still with no idea how she was going to set about finding any answers.

Laura tucked the letters back into their box, switched off the tape and rubbed her eyes. She’d at least retired to her bed, but had been listening far too long. At times her grandmother’s voice had broken with emotion, so painful was it to relate. She was longing to hear Harry’s reaction to this news when he next came to visit, and what Percy would have to say on the subject, but it was well past midnight and she had to be up by seven to begin preparations for breakfast. Laura switched off the bedside lamp and settled down to sleep.

Megan had reluctantly taken her leave the previous day, having stayed far longer than she intended but promising to come again soon, and Laura realised how much she would miss the older woman. Even in the short time she’d been here they’d become great friends and she would miss their cheerful chats. And somehow, miraculously, the visit had cauterised the wound in Robert’s heart, and all the pain he’d stored against Daisy had come pouring out like pus from a festering sore.

Perhaps now they’re own relationship might also start to heal.

Nothing else was going according to plan. It had all started so well but now Chrissy was in a sulk and being difficult. She claimed to be vastly overworked, which was true, and although Laura did her best to keep bedroom changes down to a minimum by not taking single night bookings over a weekend for instance, demand had compelled her to provide evening meals. In a way this was her favourite part of the day. The trouble was, she already felt overstretched.

Her first effort had been only this last week when she was faced with cooking dinner for three couples, requiring her to juggle a variety of starters and two different main courses. Chrissy had gone out with a friend, a more regular occurrence these days.

‘I need some fun,’ she’d declared when Laura had asked if she could change her plans for the evening. But she really couldn’t expect the girl to act as kitchen skivvy as well as do her chamber maid job.

Laura was beginning to wonder if perhaps giving her step daughter the job had been a mistake. She was so young and should indeed be having fun, not feeling tied to housework all the time. And she was beginning to cut corners, be far less accommodating than at the start. On two occasions recently Laura had discovered she’d forgotten to put out fresh towels in the bathrooms. The difficulty was that staff were so incredibly hard to find. Anyone with any go about them was soon snapped up by the larger hotels in and around Keswick. Laura had put notices in the windows of various local businesses as well as on the library notice board. She’d even put advertisements in the newspaper, all to no avail. A few people had rung, two women had come along for an interview, and one had gone so far as to promise to start first thing the following Monday, but had never turned up. So she’d been surprised and thankful when Megan had offered to help with the meal.

‘Can’t cook to save my life but I could prepare vegetables, wait on and wash up. How would that be? And don’t say I’m here as a guest. I like to be busy and I’d be doing it for Daisy as much as you. I owe her a great deal.’

Laura said, ‘I’m filled with guilt that you should offer, but I’ll accept with gratitude on the basis that I’ll take it off your bill.’
 

They’d prepared melon in a raspberry coulis, tuna salad and home made soup for starters, followed by a choice of grilled haddock with a creamy sauce or lamb cutlets baked in rosemary. For dessert there was fruit salad, cheese, or a traditional Rum Nicky pudding. The pair worked seamlessly together, Megan proving adept with a knife and chopping board and smilingly winning over the guests, keeping them happily chatting while Laura frantically grilled, baked, boiled, tossed and generally tried not to panic in the kitchen.

‘If you ever feel like moving to the Lakes, let me know,’ Laura said as they’d sat flushed and happy at the end of the evening, enjoying a well earned glass of wine together. ‘There’s always a job for you here.’

Megan had smilingly made no comment, and a day or two later she’d gone back to Manchester and Laura was forced to cope on her own.

As if this weren’t bad enough, they were due an inspection from the Tourist Board at any time. She’d been warned by the local office, situated in the Moot Hall, that the booking would come in the form of a single room, usually with the requirement of an evening meal.

In her blackest moments at the end of yet another long tiring day, Laura began to question her own wisdom at ever embarking upon this venture. She hadn’t underestimated the amount of work involved, but perhaps she had overestimated her ability to carry it out on her own. And yet she loved the work, she enjoyed meeting people, chatting to them and doing her best to make them comfortable and give them a good holiday. True, there were difficult customers at times but most people simply wanted a pleasant room and good food put before them. All of which Laura took great pleasure in providing.

But she possessed only one pair of hands and there was no doubt that she needed more. How on earth had Daisy coped?

Over the next few days Daisy could hardly concentrate on what she was supposed to be doing. From not wanting to touch the baby, she’d gone to not being able to get enough of him. He was a complete and utter distraction. She would put on the soup and then start to read him a story and forget to take it off again. She’d go outside, meaning to feed the hens, and then rush back in to make sure he was still safely playing in his playpen where she’d left him, forgetting all about what she was supposed to be doing.

Wherever she went in the big old farmhouse, she felt compelled to take him with her, all the time aware of Florrie’s watchful eyes upon her, silently envious of her prior claim upon him. Sometimes Daisy would abandon her work altogether, so that she could take him outside to play on the grass, laughing delightedly when he went charging after the poor beleaguered hens on plump, sturdy legs only to topple over through going too fast.

‘Slow down, you’re not a steam train,’ and she’d run to pick him up, concerned he might have hurt himself. But the two year old would simply offer up his toothy grin and be off again, determined to explore every corner of this exciting new world.

Megan and Trish adored him too and became slaves to his every whim, constantly picking him up and carrying him about, teasing and tickling him, fetching his toys every time he dropped them out of his pram for all he was supposed to be having an afternoon nap in the autumn sunshine. He’d quietly wait till they’d put the toy back in and crept away before giving a deliciously wicked gurgle of laughter and tossing it out again.

‘He’s a little monkey,’ Trish would say, rushing to repeat the trick all over again.

‘He’s lovely though, isn’t he?’ Megan would quietly remark, her gaze softening whenever she looked at him. Megan loved to help feed him, teaching him to use his spoon and pusher with tender care so that Daisy could only look on with pride and love. The little girl would build up his bricks into a high tower and laugh when he knocked them all down again. Daisy could see that having the baby around was relaxing her, bringing her out of her shell and giving her a sense of security and belonging.

‘And you’re good for me too, little Robbie. I love you to bits already, do you know that?’

‘Mama!

‘Oh yes, I can see you could wheedle your way into any woman’s heart, you little rascal.’

All the same, despite a growing sense of happiness and belief in the fact that he might indeed be her child, miraculously returned to her, tension was mounting. There were still many problems to be resolved. Daisy was waiting for Harry to write and say when he might be able to get leave; and waiting for Sunday when Percy would arrive. What would he have to say?
 

Daisy had carefully worked out what she must say to him. She would offer her condolences over his loss, of course, then thank him for persuading his sister Annie to look after little Robbie, which she had clearly done very well. Presumably they had been the ones to pay for her to go into the mother and baby home. Most of all she would promise faithfully to keep him safe and love him with all her heart. Only then would she explain about Harry. She would say how she held no resentment against Percy for leaving her in the lurch in the way that he had, because she’d been given a second chance at love, and was hoping against hope that Harry would understand and forgive.

All in all, it would be good to see him again, and there was absolutely no reason why they shouldn’t discuss the situation in a perfectly reasonable manner. What had happened between them was all in the past, when they were young and naïve, and was over and done with now. They’d both made a fresh start and a new life for themselves.

But when Sunday came and Percy stood before her, she realised it wasn’t going to be anywhere near as easy as she had hoped.

There was the roar of a motorbike and the spit of flying gravel as it crunched to a halt, followed by the loud blast of a horn. Chrissy tossed aside the tea towel and reached for her jacket. ‘Got to fly. See you.’

‘Hold on,’ Laura said. ‘Fly where? Who’s the knight on the white charger?’ From the kitchen window she could just catch a glimpse of a helmeted, leather-clad figure on a bike, impatiently revving up the engine as he waited.

‘It’s a quad,’ Chrissy informed her with mocking sarcasm as she half backed out the door.

‘What on earth is a quad?’

‘Oh for goodness’ sake, a sort of bike. Look, I’ve got to go. Gary doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’

‘And who is Gary?’ Laura was following Chrissy out of the kitchen, through the hall to the front door, wiping her hands on a towel as she went. ‘Do I know him? Is he local? Why doesn’t he come in and be properly introduced?’

‘Oh, get real. This isn’t the nineteenth century.’ Chrissy’s tone held all the contempt of her superior youth. But even as she reached for the door handle, Laura moved with the speed of experience.

‘Not so fast. I’m quite keen to meet Gary myself, then we’ll decide if you can go out with him. Have you spoken to your mum, or Felix about him? Do they allow you to have boy friends? You’re only fourteen.’

The horn blasted again and a look of anxiety flashed across Chrissy’s face. ‘Stop hassling me, will you. I’ve got to go.’

‘Chrissy, you have to realise that while you’re living here, you are my responsibility and I can’t just let you go off with a complete stranger.’

Chrissy rolled her eyes heavenwards. ‘He’s not a complete stranger. I know him quite well, actually.’ The smirk on her insolent face was not reassuring.

Laura held on to her patience. ‘I need to check him out first, and make sure your parents agree.’

‘Ask your precious David to check him out then, if you want to be priggish about it, but not now, right? I’m in a hurry.’ And as the horn blasted a third time she thrust Laura aside, flung open the door and stalked off. Laura reached the bike just as the machine roared away down the lane, Chrissy barely having climbed astride. At least she’d protected the purple locks with a helmet. It was Laura’s only consolation.

‘Oh, lord, what do I now?’ The last thing she needed was to have to call Felix. He’d be sure to put the blame on her, accuse her of being slipshod and irresponsible with his daughter’s well being. She went and called David instead. No answer. Of course, he’d be out with the sheep. This was a busy time with the dipping and shearing under way. The summer months were hectic for farmers.

Laura spent the entire day fretting and worrying, one eye constantly on the clock, or checking her watch. Why hadn’t she insisted on knowing where the girl was going? Why hadn’t she instituted a curfew, or better still, arranged to go and collect her at an appropriate time from wherever it was. Who knew what might happen to her? How old was this boy? Would he behave properly with her, and appreciate how very young Chrissy was? They might crash into a ditch at the very least.
 

She wasn’t even her true parent, so why would Chrissy listen even if she did issue a set of rules? What had possessed her to let the girl stay? She must have been mad. How could she ever be free of Felix and start a new life for herself while she was still burdened by his daughter.
 

Because she’d never viewed her in that way. Despite her show of rebellion, Laura was fond of Chrissy, always had been, and felt rather sorry for her being stuck with two parents as useless and selfish as Julia and Felix. She’d always done her best to remain neutral, not to take sides, and to be affectionate and reliable. Now she’d made a bad mistake. Being a stepmother suddenly seemed to be fraught with problems.