Daisy didn’t answer. She reached over to the counter instead and picked up the notebook and placed it on the table between them and nodded. ‘Also, from him. It was tucked inside the bottom of the hamper.
Annabelle ran her hand across the cover. ‘This is so you, right down to the stitched spine.’
‘I know.’
Annabelle picked up her mug again. ‘I think I need a lie-down. That is next level.’
‘I know. I nearly burst and the girls were beside themselves. It was like Christmas in here. I just hope nothing changes.’
‘You don’t have to constantly wait for the floor to give way, you know. It’s alright to feel like this and not be bracing for disaster.’ Annabelle sounded very exasperated.
‘I keep trying to tell myself that, but my stomach still knots up whenever he texts.’
‘What do you mean with butterflies or like with dread?’
‘Both. Depending on the day and what’s going on in my head.’
Annabelle tutted and nodded at the same time. ‘I suppose it is understandable with what you’ve had on your plate for the last few years and lately. You’ve held your nerve through months of upheaval, set up a bookshop on a wing and a prayer, dealt with doing this place up, and kept the girls feeling safe and steady. You’ve been so busy with that that you’ve lost the ability to think like a normal person! Ahh!’
‘Ha.’
‘If anyone deserves a man who sends hampers the size of kitchens and personalised stationery, it’s you, Daise.’
Daisy ran a hand over the notebook cover. ‘I’m not used to things feeling good.’
Annabelle raised her mug. ‘Then start getting used to it, because I don’t think he’s going anywhere.’
‘And even if he is, I’ve still got this, right? The bookshop, the girls, you ugly lot. I just keep thinking, what if I’m leaning too hard on something that’s not built to last? What if he wakes up one day and realises I come with a second-hand kitchen and a pair of small tornadoes?’
Annabelle gave the kind of look only an older sister could give. ‘Daise, he knows exactly what you come with and he keeps showing up anyway.’
Daisy shrugged. ‘But it’s all a bit new. I keep waiting for a text that ends it all. One that says thanks, but no thanks. You’ve been great, but…’
‘Stop. Not everything has to end with a dramatic twist.’
‘It’s just that everything good in my life before has come with a cost. Even this bookshop, when you think about it. Bottom line, it’s wonderful, it’s mine, sort of, Mum’s really, but I got it because someone died, Bells. Uncle Dennis is gone and I’m the one sitting here every morning. The same as the twins, their dad is gone. And Miles, he’s amazing, but what if I start needing him too much and then he’s gone, too?’
‘You’re not mad for thinking those things in a way, but you’re wrong, too.’
‘Trust me, I feel all over the show.’
Annabelle stood and moved around the island, pulling Daisy into a hug, her linen dress crumpling slightly as she pressed her cheek to the top of Daisy’s head. ‘You’ll be fine. Right, come on. We are Henleys. Let’s have another cup of tea and some goodies from that basket. If you’re going to keep spiralling into worst-case scenarios, we might as well do it with chocolate biscuits as fuel.’
Daisy smiled. ‘You’re too good to me.’
Annabelle tutted. It’s a full-time job being your big sister.’
As Daisy made another pot of tea, she thought about Annabelle’s words and realised that she didn’t need to keep thinking that everything was going to go wrong. That perhaps it was time to start believing in her own story. Time to really, really let go.
19
Daisy was halfway through updating a new book display just along from the library ladder when Holly burst through the bookshop door with urgency. Daisy frowned right away. Holly’s body language told her that things were not good. In a mass of sparkle and kerfuffle, Holly’s look was full of concern and she had Xian in tow, whose face was like thunder. Both of them looked like they'd practically run from the bakery. Daisy's stomach immediately dropped because Holly never left the bakery during the morning rush unless something serious was happening.
There was no messing around. Holly looked around to check for customers and, on not seeing any, flipped the sign on Daisy's door from open to closed. ‘We need to talk and you're going to want to sit down for this.’
Xian, in a bright pink fluffy jumper, pulled a chair closer to the counter, plonked herself down and swigged from her silver hip flask. ‘Daise, you know we wouldn't come charging over here unless this was important.’
‘What’s happened?’ Daisy felt a shudder of dread. In her experience, conversations that started with “you need to sit down” never ended well.
