‘But how did you afford it? Commercial property costs a fortune.’
Holly and Xian exchanged a look. ‘Never underestimate us. The building is perfect for our investment portfolio, so we took it from there and ran with it.’
Xian had a wicked grin on her face. ‘The recent stock market thing, because of what’s going on over the pond, worked in my favour, put it that way. I've been wondering what to do with the money, and protecting Pretty Beach from corporate invasion seemed like a pretty good investment.’
Daisy stared at them both. ‘I can’t believe you kept it quiet!’
‘Everyone was sworn to secrecy, so this bookshop, our bakery and every independent business in Pretty Beach are safe for now. This was about more than just stopping GayesBooks.’
Daisy swallowed and shook her head. The implications were starting to sink in. GayesBooks wouldn't be opening next door. There would be no corporate competition, no professional marketing campaigns designed to destroy her customer base. The threat that had been keeping her awake at night had simply vanished.
‘What did GayesBooks say when they found out they'd been gazumped?’
‘We don’t know or care.’
‘The estate agent said they made some phone calls, tried to increase their offer, but the Thorntons had already shaken hands with us. Deal done and no going back.’
Daisy felt tears pricking at her eyes. ‘I can't believe you did this. I can't believe you spent your own money to protect us.’
‘It's just another investment. We like to keep our money in Pretty Beach, in the community we've all worked to build here if we can…’
‘Thank you.’ Daisy felt as if the words were inadequate for what she was trying to express. ‘I don't know how to repay you for this.’
'You just keep being part of Pretty Beach, keep running your bookshop, keep being the person we wanted to protect in the first place. Right, we need to run. We have things to sort out!’
‘Yes, you must have. Thank you again.’
After they'd gone, Daisy sat and tried to process what had happened. She'd been so convinced that GayesBooks's corporate efficiency would crush her amateur efforts and certain that community spirit couldn't compete with professional business tactics. Instead, her community had simply outmanoeuvred the professionals with a better offer and faster decision-making. What a turn-up for the books.
She thought about Miles asking what if she was wrong, what if Pretty Beach really would rally to protect what mattered to them. He'd been right and she’d been incorrect with her thoughts that GayesBooks would win. She'd never been happier to be mistaken about anything in her life.
41
Daisy stood at the kitchen sink, rinsing breakfast bowls and watched Miles through the window as he crouched beside the back gate, trying to fix the latch that had been sticking for weeks. His sleeves were rolled up and he had a concentrated frown on his face. The sight of the man in her garden was not bad, that she knew without anyone telling her.
The girls were upstairs, supposedly getting dressed, but by the sounds of it, having an argument about whose turn it was to use the hairbrush and whether Evie's cardigan was actually Margot's cardigan. The sound of their voices drifted down through the ceiling, a mixture of negotiation and mild protest that formed the soundtrack to most of their mornings.
Daisy dried her hands on a tea towel and looked around the kitchen. The breakfast chaos had been cleared away, school bags were packed and waiting by the door, and the bookshop was ready for another day. The whole routine had become second nature and Daisy loved the fact that they could now walk to school. Since Miles had become a proper part of their lives, not just the man who visited every now and then or helped with the odd bit of this or that, he was often part of the school run, albeit normally arriving for a cup of tea just before they left. He wasnowhere near moving in, but he was in and around Daisy and the twins' lives and had slotted in as if it had always been meant to be.
'Mummy! Margot's got my hair thing and she won't give it back!' Evie's voice carried down from upstairs, followed by the sound of feet thundering across the landing.
'It's not your hair thing, it's mine! You left yours at Grandma's!' Margot's reply came back at equal volume.
Daisy sighed and called up the stairs. 'Right, that's enough. Whoever's ready first gets to choose the route to school. Move yourselves! Henley girls are not late, ever!'
The threat of missing out on decision-making worked like magic. Within minutes, both girls appeared in the kitchen, hair relatively tamed, cardigans on the right way round, and school bags slung over their shoulders. They'd even managed to sort out the hair elastic situation between them.
Miles appeared at the back door, wiping his hands on his jeans. 'Right, that latch should behave itself now. Are we ready for the school expedition?'
'We're ready!' Margot bounced on her toes. 'And I was ready first, so I get to choose which way we go!'
'I was ready first!' Evie protested. 'I had my shoes on before you! Mummy! That’s not fair!'
Daisy held up a hand before an argument could gather momentum. 'Both of you were ready at exactly the same time, which means you'll have to take turns choosing the route. Margot can choose today and Evie can choose tomorrow. That’s the end of it.'
Daisy had learnt, as the twins had got a little bit older, that fairness, or at least the appearance of fairness, was crucial to maintaining harmony between them. Otherwise, all hell broke out.
Miles hovered by the back door. 'What are our route options then?'
