Phoebe beamed at her in delight. ‘Great. I’ll send over the brief, so you’ve got all the details, and then we can hammer out the contract. Think big on this one, Daisy – glorious double spreads that sing with joy. I can’t think of anyone better suited to it, especially now that you’re living the countryside dream.’

  Again, Daisy’s lips twisted in amusement; the tortured rumble of machinery and shouts of hi-vis jacketed workers were hardly the stuff of dreams but she knew what Phoebe meant. Mistlethorpe was fairly idyllic and there would certainly be no shortage of beautiful gardens in the area to visit for inspiration over the coming months. ‘I’ll get my thinking cap on,’ she promised.

  ‘Excellent,’ Phoebe said, sitting back and reaching for her wine glass. ‘Now, do you think pork belly or the trout? I can’t choose.’

  The chaos around Half Moon Farm lessened over the remainder of the week. The hole in the roof was mended, which meant Daisy no longer needed to keep such an anxious eye on the weather forecast, and the work to supply the farmhouse with a decent broadband connection was completed too. She almost cheered on Friday afternoon when she sent a large file to her publisher and watched the upload percentage speed to 100 without a hitch. It was a shame the twins were going to Stuart’s for the weekend and wouldn’t be able to marvel at the improvement but at least it should prevent any further grumbles when they came back.

  ‘Anything I need to know?’ Stuart asked when he arrived to collect them on Friday evening.

  ‘Just the usual,’ Daisy said as she handed over their weekend bags. ‘Finn has his first match with the school team next week so I expect you’ll be in goal for most of the weekend.’

  He nodded, as though he’d been expecting as much. ‘I’ve got us tickets for the MK Dons match tomorrow – they’re playing at home.’

  ‘Campbell will be delighted,’ Daisy observed dryly. ‘I hope you don’t mind bringing them back on Sunday rather than Monday. They’re weirdly excited about the May Day parade – apparently, they made masks in school.’

  Stuart raised an eyebrow. ‘A village parade. How jolly.’

  There was something in his tone that made Daisy frown. ‘I think it’s quite a tradition – people really make an effort.’

  ‘Each to their own,’ he said, shrugging. ‘Not sure the boys will be happy about being dragged back from Milton Keynes for something so twee but that’s your call.’

  A needle of irritation prickled Daisy’s composure. She and Stuart had worked hard to rebuild a friendship after their divorce but there were still times he could get under her skin. The fact that she’d had similar thoughts when she’d first heard about the Morris dancers was neither here nor there. ‘I’m hardly dragging them back. A lot of the kids from school will be there and I’m hoping it will help all three of us feel more at home here.’

  He was silent for a moment and she wondered whether he was going to point out that Mistlethorpe wasn’t really their home. But he simply nodded. ‘Point taken.’ His gaze came to rest on the newly repaired roof and he shaded his eyes against the afternoon sun. ‘I see you’re making progress. How’s your mum doing?’

  ‘Getting stronger every day,’ Daisy said, recalling the colour in her mother’s cheeks and her general improvement in spirits. ‘Her consultant seemed happy at the last appointment and I’m hopeful she’ll be able to catch some of the celebrations on Monday, now that the risk of infection is less serious.’

  Stuart eyed her curiously. ‘That’s good. But how are the two of you getting on? Any bridges being mended along with those windows?’

  It was a perfectly reasonable question – Stuart was well aware of the fraught nature of her past relationship with her mother and he knew it hadn’t been easy to put that aside when Rose had needed her, for all that the decision to return to Half Moon Farm had been made in a heartbeat. But the needle of annoyance scratched at Daisy’s patience again. Perhaps she was more tired than she realized. ‘Oh, you know. Little steps,’ she said, taking care to keep her tone level. ‘We’ve had some honest conversations, at least.’

  ‘I suppose that’s one good thing to come out of this,’ he observed. ‘As well as Campbell and Finn getting to know their grandmother.’

  The words hung in the air but this time, Daisy knew the implied criticism was all in her head, an echo of the guilt she’d battled for years. She dug deep for a smile. ‘Thanks.’

  She was spared further questions by the arrival of the twins, clattering through the door of the farmhouse and into the yard with the usual arguments bouncing between them. ‘I’m sitting in the front!’

  ‘No, I am!’

  ‘Actually, you’re both sitting in the back,’ Stuart said, opening one of the rear passenger doors. ‘That way I can listen to all those ancient tunes without you being able to change the station.’

  Finn groaned. ‘Get ready for two hours of Not Bangers. Your taste in music is almost as bad as Mum’s.’

  Daisy met Stuart’s gaze and this time her smile wasn’t forced; a shared love of dance music had been one of the things that had brought them together. ‘Enjoy,’ she said.

  He grinned as he ushered the twins into the car. ‘Oh, I will. If they’re really lucky I might introduce them to The Venga Boys.’

  Chapter Four

  Over the weekend, Daisy noticed a flurry of activity around the village green. Several white marquees were erected, pastel-coloured bunting fluttered from anything above head height and signs at both ends of the High Street declared the road closed to traffic between the hours of 13:00 to 16:00 on Monday. At the Oast House café, Nancy was nowhere to be seen and Daisy discovered from the weekend staff that she was busy perfecting her entry to the cake competition, which was very hotly contested every year. There was even a Pet Show and Effie was hoping to win the top prize with her Chihuahua – Daisy had promised to leave Atticus at home.

  Monday’s sky was burdened with unpromising grey clouds and Daisy wondered how enthusiastic the celebrations would be if the heavens opened. But once again, the sun made short work of the clouds and the chance of rain vanished as lunchtime came and went. Despite Stuart’s prediction, both Campbell and Finn were vibrating with excitement. Participants in the parade needed to meet behind the Mill at 13:30 and Daisy delivered both boys to their teacher, who was handing out masks to a plethora of other excited children, before going to find Emily and Rose. The carer had offered to bring a wheelchair for Rose, which had caused the older woman to bristle. ‘I haven’t lost the use of my legs yet,’ she’d asserted with a scowl, and Emily hadn’t mentioned it again. When Daisy found the two women, Rose was sitting in a lime green fold up festival chair with an enormous sunhat shading her head, a half-eaten Mr Whippy in her hand and an expectant look on her face. ‘I haven’t watched the parade for years,’ she said. ‘Do they still light a bonfire at the end?’

  Daisy squinted across the green to where several men were leaning stems of wood in a tall conical shape. ‘It looks that way,’ she said, trying to pick out if one of them was Drew. ‘Either that or they’re building the world’s biggest witch’s hat.’

  By the time the parade began, a decent-sized crowd lined the High Street. Daisy hadn’t really known what to expect but it was clear from the number of people that the May Day celebration had drawn in people from the surrounding area and beyond. ‘Oh yeah,’ Emily agreed when Daisy commented on the amount of unfamiliar faces, ‘loads of people come to Mistlethorpe to join in the festivities. But this is nothing compared to the Scarecrow Festival in August – we get serious numbers for that.’

  Daisy wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that – to her, scarecrows resembled life-sized creepy dolls – but she kept her opinions to herself for now. ‘Look,’ she said as the oompah band burst out a surprisingly good version of Britney’s Oops, I Did It Again, ‘there are Finn and Campbell.’

  The theme of the masks seemed to be woodland creatures, although Daisy was certain Finn had opted for a gorilla. She cheered as they pranced by, accompanied by a cluster of younger children riding beautifully ornate, if tatty, hobby horses. At the very back, accompanied by a band of cheerful Morris dancers, she saw what she assumed to be Drew, although it might have been anyone underneath the extraordinary green-leaved costume. He looked exactly like a walking tree, wreathed from head to toe in greenery and reaching well over seven feet in height. Around him, several more children danced, each wearing a leafy crown. The air was filled by the jangle of bells from the Morris dancers, and the rhythmic smack of wood on wood as they hit their sticks against one another in time to the music. Daisy found herself caught up in the old-fashioned charm of the scene and cheered enthusiastically throughout, but most especially when Jack in the Green passed by. She thought she saw the figure turn her way but she couldn’t be sure beneath all the leaves. As the end of the parade passed, the crowd joined it and followed to the tents and maypole on the village green. The oompah band broke into another rousing tune – Daisy was surprised to recognize it as a classic Arctic Monkeys song – and a young woman of around sixteen or seventeen was duly crowned May Queen. She beamed at the crowd, waving in a manner that was more excited than queenly, and a small group of children hurried forwards to grab a ribbon from the Maypole. Relieved to see neither Finn nor Campbell were among their number – she couldn’t trust them not to try to strangle each other – Daisy nevertheless expected the ribbon-bearers to become hopelessly tangled but they ducked over and under the ribbons, weaving it around the pole until it was covered in colourful strands. The crowd broke into applause as the dancers took their bows.

  ‘Very nice indeed,’ Rose declared from her seat beside Emily. ‘I remember doing that myself as a girl and having loads of fun. Who doesn’t love a nice maypole?’

  Daisy didn’t dare look at Emily, knowing the carer would be grinning. Instead, she focused on the unaccustomed sparkle in her mother’s eyes. ‘I’m surprised you weren’t the May Queen.’

  ‘No fear,’ Rose snorted, with such vigour that it made Daisy laugh. ‘I was far too cool for that kind of nonsense. But your grandmother was, back in the day. I’ve got a photograph, in the house somewhere. I’ll have to dig it out to show you.’

  Her words caused a memory to stir, of the letter to Violet asking whether she’d been crowned May Queen. A photograph would add another piece to the puzzle. ‘I’d like that,’ she told Rose.

  Emily leaned in. ‘There’s Campbell,’ she said as the maypole dancers began to disperse. ‘And Finn behind him.’

  Daisy beamed at both of them once they got nearer. ‘You two were brilliant,’ she said and fixed a thoughtful gaze on Finn’s mask, now pushed back on top of his head, ‘although I’m not sure King Kong is traditionally part of the May Day celebrations.’

  He shrugged. ‘Our teacher said we could choose an animal or bird so I chose a gorilla.’

  Campbell, whose owl mask was meticulously coloured and crafted, shook his head. ‘I did try to tell him but he refused to listen.’

  Finn showed no concern at the criticism. ‘Can we get an ice cream? It was boiling in the parade – even my toes are sweating.’

  Daisy squinted up at the cloudless sky, grateful that she’d thought to apply suncream to both boys before letting them join the fun. ‘I don’t think I want to know about your toes but and ice cream sounds like a very good idea,’ she said, reaching into her bag for a ten-pound-note. ‘If you could manage to bring me some change that would be great.’

  Finn snatched the money in delight and ran off with Campbell in hot pursuit. ‘You’ll be lucky,’ Emily said, watching them go. ‘It’s four quid for a ninety-nine these days.’

  Daisy sighed in good-natured resignation, knowing the boys would get the largest possible confection for the money they had available. ‘I wasn’t expecting to get any money back, to be honest, but it never hurts to ask.’

  She scanned the crowd, trying to keep the twins in sight as they sped towards the ice cream van, and felt her spirits dip as she spotted Kit Devereaux. Her determination to put him out of her head had largely worked in the past week, mostly because he seemed to be avoiding her too, but she would really rather not put her newfound indifference to the test. ‘I don’t know about you but I could murder a coffee,’ she said hurriedly, uncomfortably aware that her voice sounded too bright. ‘Shall we head to the refreshments tent?’

  ‘Good idea,’ Emily said, fanning her pink cheeks. ‘I don’t want to complain but Mr Sun has got his hat on a little too much for my liking.’

  Thankfully, Rose was keen to stretch her legs a little and the three of them made their way towards the sanctuary of the marquee. Under the creamy canvas, the space had been dotted with tables and chairs – Daisy deposited her mother and Emily at one and headed for the long trestle tables that lined one wall. Minutes later, she was back, gingerly carrying a tea tray laden with a teapot and mismatched but charming crockery. Leaving Emily to pour her mother’s tea, Daisy skulked in the entrance of the tent, waiting for Campbell and Finn to reappear. Her twitchiness had nothing to do with Kit, she told herself firmly, but her heart still sank when the twins emerged from the crowd with Emily Devereaux sandwiched between them. All three were eating ice creams. Campbell waved when he spotted Daisy and they set off towards the entrance of the tent. There was no escape, Daisy realized, then reminded herself Alice had nothing to do with her father’s pomposity. It wouldn’t hurt to say hello..

  ‘We bought Alice a ninety-nine,’ Finn said, as soon as they were within Daisy’s earshot. ‘So there’s no change.’

  Alice smiled politely. ‘Thank you, Mrs Moon.’

  Her accent was surprisingly normal, Daisy thought and immediately chastized herself all over again for making yet another assumption. She drew in a breath and smiled at the girl.. ‘You’re welcome. And please, call me Daisy. Mrs Moon is my mum.’

  Alice frowned. ‘But your surname is Moon, isn’t it? Finn showed me one of your books at school and it had your name – Daisy Moon – on the front.’

  ‘She is called Moon,’ Finn said in a lofty tone before Daisy could answer. ‘Our surname is Sanderson, like our dad, but she’s always been a Moon.’

  Alice turned an interested gaze back to Daisy and she was struck by how blue her eyes were, exactly the same shade as her father’s. ‘That’s very feminist of you,’ she said, sounding approving. ‘Why should you give up a good name just because you get married?’

  ‘Well, quite,’ Daisy said, not sure whether she should feel pleased or patronized. ‘I do like my name and I was already using it on my artwork by the time I got married so I decided to stick with it.’

  ‘Go you,’ Alice said and took a big bite of her flake. ‘My parents split up years ago and my mum says the name Devereaux is the only good thing she got from my dad.’

  She said it so matter-of-factly that Daisy wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. And then the recognition that she had heard perfectly dawned on her and she felt her cheeks grow warm with second-hand indignation on the child’s behalf. ‘Oh,’ she managed after a moment’s hesitation. ‘I didn’t realize – I’m sorry to hear that.’

  ‘It happened when I was a baby,’ Alice said, still apparently unconcerned. ‘She mostly lives in London now, and we live at the castle.’

  That explained why Daisy had only ever seen Kit doing the school run, she thought as Campbell fixed her with an accusatory stare. ‘How cool is that?’ he said. ‘Why don’t we live in a castle?’

  Beside him, Finn rolled his eyes. ‘Because castles are terrible places to live,’ he said, then glanced at Alice. ‘No offence but I bet the Wi-Fi is even worse than at the farmhouse.’

  Alice shrugged. ‘We don’t actually live in the castle, we live in the manor house behind it. But the internet is still a bit rubbish and sometimes the septic tank floods the bathrooms so the whole house smells.’

  ‘See?’ Finn demanded, rounding on Campbell in triumph.

  Daisy cleared her throat, still reeling from the revelation that Kit Devereaux’s life was apparently nothing like as effortless as she’d imagined. ‘I’m sure the manor house is a lovely place to live,’ she said. ‘Apart from the septic tank.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Alice said. ‘It’s only happened a few times. Dad says if Uncle Hugh would part with some damned money then he could fix it in a jiffy but he’s got his head stuck too far up his own arse to care.’

  There was another short silence, during which Daisy saw the twins’ eyes become saucers. ‘Brilliant,’ Finn said, almost breathless with admiration. ‘My dad says the same about—’

  ‘So it’s just you and your dad, is it, Alice?’ Daisy interrupted quickly, before Finn could spill whatever indelicate phrase Stuart had inadvertently dropped within his hearing. ‘At the manor house, I mean.’

  ‘Yes,’ the girl said. ‘And our housekeeper, of course. And the cook, the cook’s maid and the gardener. Oh, and the castle manager but I don’t see her much.’

  ‘Right,’ Daisy said faintly. ‘Just the seven of you, then.’

  ‘And the stable hand,’ Alice went on. ‘But he lives in one of the cottages. Here’s my dad now – I’m sure he’ll remember the people I’ve forgotten about.’

  Too late, Daisy looked up to see Kit Devereaux was indeed bearing down on them. ‘Oh, I don’t think we need to ask him—’

  ‘Everything okay, Alice?’ Kit’s clipped tone instantly transported Daisy back to the afternoon of the car crash.

  ‘Fine,’ Alice said, lifting the remains of a sticky cornet to show him. ‘Campbell and Finn bought me an ice cream and then I was telling Daisy Moon about the septic tank and Uncle Hugh.’

  Kit blinked, then his gaze whipped towards Daisy. ‘I see. How much do I owe you for the ice cream?’

  Squaring her shoulders, Daisy met his eyes coolly. ‘You don’t need to pay me back. The boys were at the van and chose to get something for Alice.’

 

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