‘The company or the food?’ Grandma asked, throwing an exaggerated wink at Daniel.
‘Both were lovely,’ he smiled back.
‘Hygiene?’ Dad asked.
‘Five stars.’ I rolled my eyes.
‘One to add to the guest folder then.’
‘Not one to write one of your horrible reviews about,’ Grandma chortled, as Dad stood by the door, impatiently rocking on his heels. ‘Can you remember, she used to say such mean things about places! What a good job you moved to London, Eleanor, and started that nice blog instead before anyone found out!’
My heart, as if it hadn’t been through enough excitement for one evening, shrivelled to a stop. I would have interrupted her, or changed the subject, but I was too blindsided to think, let alone speak.
‘We’d have been shunned throughout the whole town, wouldn’t we, Colin?’ she asked, gripping his arm as she shuffled through the doorway into the foyer. ‘I mean, I know all those things you wrote were true, but you didn’t have to tell everybody, did you? Our customers have the decency to complain to our faces, not spread it all over the paper.’
Her words faded away as Dad led her upstairs, but they still hung in the air like a giant neon cloud, swirling in front of us.
‘Horrible reviews?’ Daniel had picked up Hope and now cradled her against his chest. ‘Your reviews are so positive I needed sunglasses to read them.’
I shrugged, ignoring the nausea splashing about in my stomach. This was it. I’d been on a date with Daniel. We’d kissed and held hands. He thought inviting me to stay was the second-best decision he’d ever made. He liked me. He liked who I was now. Surely now was the time to tell him who I’d been, before things got more complicated? If this was going to become something worth building on, surely I had to be honest. I’d spent so many years with this double life, pretending to the world that Nora Sharp was a strong, confident, kick-ass woman, while the truth was I daren’t even admit to my own parents that I was her. The thought of laying it all out, having Daniel know, so I could finally talk about it, and more to the point, stop having to worry about whether he’d still like me if he knew, was almost irresistible.
Almost.
Because, at the same time… I’d been on a date with Daniel. We’d kissed and held hands, and it had been the best date I’d ever been on. If not the best night ever, full stop. For the first time in far, far too long, I thought I might have someone on my side.
How could I tell him that I was that person who’d said such horrible things that businesses – maybe evenlives –had collapsed as a direct consequence? That I’d been her right up until he found me in that ditch? And I couldn’t even pretend that it was a courageous decision to stop, given that it had taken a gruesome threat to push me into finally resigning.
I couldn’t risk it.
I couldn’t risk him.
I was weak, and stupid, and so, so scared.
‘When I worked for theCumbria Chroniclethey wanted more balanced reviews. Some of the places I went to were terrible, and I was honest about it.’
Ugh. I almost choked on my own hypocrisy.
‘Right. That’s fair enough, I suppose.’
‘Mmhmm.’ I nodded.
‘Do you want a hot drink? It’s still fairly early. I could put Hope down and we could… well. We could talk a bit more? Whisper so we don’t wake her up? Or maybe we could…’
‘I’ve had the most amazing evening, thank you so much but I’m honestly exhausted and a little bit tipsy, and Mum and Dad are going to be expecting me to help with breakfast service again. So if you don’t mind I think I really need to go to bed. Sleep. In the Pintail room. Sorry.’
For the second time that day I ran away from Daniel Perry.
26
I spent a long, unpleasant night going over and over how much I hated myself before tumbling into dreams where I was Nora Sharp, writing the worst review ever about the Tufted Duck, and Damson Farm, my words spewing out in a torrent of hate until I realised, with a mixture of relief and disgust, that the reviews were actually all about me.
An hour flipping hash browns and frying mushrooms before the sun had even come up was a good way to find some perspective. Throw in a mild hangover, my mother’s pragmatic instructions and a mix-up with the baked beans, and by the time Daniel and Hope emerged I was as ready as I was ever going to be to face him.
‘Sorry about last night. Again.’ I placed a stack of pancakes and various toppings on the table, and went back to fetch a pot of coffee.
‘No, I’m sorry. Again.’ Daniel squinted. ‘Did I totally misread things?’
‘No.’ I shook my head, my heart so confused it hurt. ‘I meant it about having an amazing time.’ I dared to peep at him from under my eyelashes. ‘Every time I have with you is amazing.’
