‘What’s this one?’ Margot picked up a little jar of something orange. ‘It looks like Grandma’s pantry.’
‘It’s for cheese.’ Daisy scanned for the delivery note, picked up the white envelope, unfolded the flap and pulled over an old piano stool from the Penguin classics section. The stool’s legs wobbled slightly as she read the one line of writing.
Just in case I forgot to tell you, I love you. M.
Daisy swallowed and tucked the card quietly into the back pocket of her jeans before either of the girls could ask what it said. ‘Right. Shall we sort these out into what we need to put in the fridge? I think some of the other bits and bobs will look lovely on our new shelves.’
‘Can we have one of the chocolates now?’
The girls gave a cheer when Daisy said yes and the next ten minutes were spent unpacking the rest of the hamper. Evie and Margot were so excited that they placed each item on the table in the tiny kitchen, naming things as if they were royal guests.
‘Princess Bottle,’ Evie announced as she put a bottle of champagne on the table.
‘And Queen Cheese.’
Daisy let them get on with it while she arranged the tins and jars on the shelf.
About fifteen minutes later, Margot was peering into the hamper again. It was so deep that she looked as if she might fall in. ‘Mummy, there’s something else in the tissue stuff at the bottom. A box of something else! I wonder what it is.’
Daisy leant over. Sure enough, nestled underneath was a small square parcel, wrapped in pale green tissue and tied with a wide, silky, dark green ribbon. She lifted it out and carefully unwrapped it. A hardback notebook with a navy blue leather cover embossed with “Daisy” on the right-hand corner in gold lettering. A note on a card read:
For all your plans, thoughts, and ideas. Love, M.
‘Who is that from?’
Daisy decided to be truthful. ‘You know Miles, Mummy’s friend?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s from him.’
Evie clambered onto the chair beside Daisy. ‘Is he your boyfriend then?’
Daisy looked at Evie and blinked. ‘What?’
‘Miles. He kissed you, didn’t he? That time outside. We saw.’
Daisy tried not to laugh. ‘Oh, cheeky, did you? Err, he’s, well, umm...’
Margot held her hands out in the direction of the table. ‘Will he come and help us eat all this?’
‘Maybe.’ Daisy thought about the note. ‘Maybe he will. We’ll see.’
After Daisy had locked up the shop and pottered around making the girls’ tea, she felt in a bit of a daze. With the hamper open and mostly emptied, it seemed as if it was talking to her from the corner. Someone had sent her quite the dramatic gift and it had made her feel all the feels. It had been so well received, she felt as if she was tingling from head to toe. Talk about take someone’s breath away.
Once the girls were sitting nicely at the table, she leant on the kitchen door and gazed through the hallway into the now quiet and dim shop and looked around at the life she’d somehow made. Deciding that the notebook would be a journal of thoughts, she opened the cover and wrote on the first clean page:
Today: A hamper. A note. A good sort of evening.
Inside, Daisy felt as if she was falling further and further for Miles. However, something felt a little bit different because of his words and the delivery as if it had solidified something. She watched her girls, looked back at her shop and around at her lifewith the hamper wedged in the corner. Now, it appeared, there was another player at the table: a man she loved.
As she pottered around the kitchen tidying bits and bobs into the dishwasher and listening to the girls, she boiled the kettle and made a cup of tea. Standing leaning on the sink with the steam rising from her mug, she smiled and felt something she hadn’t in years: just so very safe.
17
The sky above Pretty Beach was doing its own thing. One minute, sunshine poked through the clouds, the next minute it went dark. The sun appeared not to be able to make up its mind about what season it was in. Daisy stood at the school gate strategically placed so that she was nowhere near Georgia or any of her friends. She waved at Margot and Evie as they barrelled out, both talking at the same time and clutching bits of painted cardboard and weighed down by their school bags. Margot appeared to have lost not one but both of the hairbands that had tamed her bubble of curls into bunches, and as ever, Evie’s cardigan was buttoned crookedly, but they were smiling, and Daisy was beyond ready for the walk home and for once putting her feet up. As they rushed up to her, she felt so much pure and utter mum love for them, she could almost taste it in her mouth.
‘We did skipping in PE and loads of jumping. I love jumping! Mummy, I’ve still got glitter on my hands and Evie said I couldn’t be the owl when we were pretending at playtime.’
