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“But Daisy, this is beautiful. Truly, I am bouleversée by what you have achieved here. And very impressed that you did it so secretly!”
Daisy wasn’t used to being praised like this. An unexpected floodtide of pleasure rose within her. Praised for her looks, yes, or envied for her clothes – but this was something new.
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“Ma petite, truly you have impressed me. This…” She did one of her complicated Gallic shrugs. “I hoped you had it in you, but I did not know for sure. I tell you what, I make you a gift. Today, the publishers sent me my royalties. And ‘The Only Child’, still it sells well, and so the others do too. Tell me what you need, and I will buy you one thing. And also, tell me why you chose these colours, this style…”
Daisy had been dying to talk to someone about it! They sat down together on the bed, though soon Daisy was striding around the room, pointing at things.
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“The wardrobe can go back there, but I need to paint it first, so that’ll take a while – all the sanding down. Though I don’t have to wait for everyone to go out now! I might ask Grandpère if I can do it in his workshop now that he’s finished Josephine. Then I’d like a new desk, a new bedside light, but I think I’ll paint that table. I want a carpet, but I’ve got nowhere near enough for that yet. There’s the other bed to do – I bought enough material for both, in case I couldn’t match it later, which is why I’m spent up at the moment. I chose these colours because…”
This was Daisy as Lorraine hadn’t seen her for years – lively, animated, interested.
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“Oh Grandmère, thank you so much! That is so kind of you!”
Daisy was almost moved to tears – not only by her grandmère’s generosity, but also Lorraine’s evident pride in her.
“I’m so glad Grandpère married you and not Griselda Tostead! You’re so much nicer than she is!”
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“I need company,” she suddenly realised, on her third visit. “But who?” Nearly all her friends were juggling new babies and existing families – she was the lucky one with live-in baby-sitters.
“I wonder if Charlie would come with me?”
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“That’s okay – I could do with coming regularly. And Matthew and Hanako are both busier than normal at the moment, what with their new siblings as well. And this does – oof! – make a difference to my riding. I’ll see you after your run.”
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“She takes after David – and Lorraine too. I wish I was more like her. And I wish Charlie and Daisy got on better…”
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“Daisy’s not being half as tiresome as she was…”
Tiresome was one way to describe Daisy’s constant petty insults, Charlie thought, (and they had stopped, now she thought about it) but that wasn’t the real issue that lay between them.
“Mum. Daisy’s still not sorry for what she did to my pictures at the exhibition. I know she said sorry – but she didn’t mean it, and you know that too.”
Jonnie closed her eyes to avoid seeing Charlie’s uncompromising gaze, because in her heart of hearts she knew Charlie was right. This was even harder than she’d thought it was going to be.
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“You have, I think, a gift for colour and design, ma petite. I need your help with something – will you give it?”
“Is it to do with your secret sewing project?”
Lorraine had been busy for the last few days on her (much more modern!) sewing machine, and wouldn’t let anyone see what she was doing.
“In part. Viens avec moi.”
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“So, Daisy. No-one can hear us here. This question, it is not a trick. Just tell me truthfully – who is prettier: you or Charlie? Imagine you are talking about two strangers.”
Grandmère would have her reasons for asking, Daisy figured. “Me,” she admitted after a moment or two. “But I don’t mean Charlie’s not…”
“I know. So – arrange your hair for pretty, take off your glasses, perhaps a little make-up – and then I have a dress for you to try on. I come back in ten minutes. All right, fifteen,” she added, catching sight of Daisy’s face.
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“I wish I didn’t have to wear glasses though. I look so much nicer without them."
“You could always try contact lenses a little later on – if you save your money. You are too young now, a little, but later…” Lorraine paused, and then went on.
“Daisy. You have, I think, much talent lying hidden, and now it begins to show itself. But to use it, you need also much honesty, integrity. I want to ask you some hard questions next – but it is because I believe in your abilities. And because I love you. Will you trust me? And answer me honestly?”
Daisy swallowed hard. What was her grandmère about to do?
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“Grandmère – why?” Dasiy was willing to admit that her grandmère might have her reasons – but only just. And they’d better be good ones.
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“You, ma petite, are much prettier than Charlie. And with your hair so, and your face made up, you look lovely. But not in that dress. Even you cannot redeem it. So – what does it do to Charlie?”
“It made her look dreadful.” And there was a relief in admitting it.
“C’est vrai. I do not know why Cynthia wished to do that, and I do not ask you to say: that would not be fair. But it is of your mother I wish to speak – her party clothes: do they become her?”
Grandma H had made those as well – Daisy had to fight to view her mother’s wardrobe dispassionately.
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“No. They’re not Mum’s style at all.”
“And so she has no confidence. But I think you could help her – help her to choose something nice for this formal dance she goes to later on in the year.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. Not Charlie – she needs Hanako with her, though she is learning. Not your father: he has no idea. I will persuade Jonnie to go shopping with you – I have a plan for that. And you can see what you can do, to help her look lovely.”
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This was Daisy’s dressing table – still out on the landing at the moment. Daisy looked at it with new eyes, picturing it in her bedroom.
“This is actually ugly,” she thought. “All unnecessary frills and ornamentation. Though if Grandma H hadn’t given it to me when she did, Charlie would have got the big bedroom in the other house instead of me.”
“I think I’ll sell it on ebay,” she said aloud. “If Grandpere will put it up on his account for me.”
“I think he will do that, yes. It will have to be buyer collects, though – this we cannot post!”
“And if it doesn’t sell, then I’ll try Freecycle.”
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“You’re so good with him,” Jonnie said admiringly.
“Well, I had plenty of practice with you when you were a baby. Your mother wasn’t too keen on the nappies and washing bits, so I did a lot of it. I’m enjoying doing it again – and he’s not heavy.”
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“Well, I told her I wasn’t going to ignore my grandson, and she wasn’t too happy about that! She doesn’t know that I also come and do the committee work with Jonathan – she really didn’t want me to do that!”
“Why not?”
“Who knows, with your mother? She was probably miffed because they didn’t ask her instead.” And Jack made silly noises at the baby, who responded with gurgles of his own.
“Anyway, she’s out tonight at a meeting of her own, so Jonathan and I have a good stretch of time in which to do some work.”
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Jack looked more cheerful that Jonathan had seen him look for a long time – like since they were at school together.
“Talk about a walk down Memory Lane!”
“You really enjoyed your schooldays, didn’t you?” Jonathan said gently.
“Yes,” Jack answered simply. “We were all such good friends back then.”
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“Yes – like a spider had fallen into the inkwell and then danced across the page, drunk, on occasions! He swore he was going to be ultra-neat for the exam though.”
“But it’s not Archie’s number on the script. Here – you have a look.”
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“You’re right – this is Archie. Once heard, never forgotten. So whose number is it? Here – you check that list, I’ll do this one, and we’ll find out.”
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“Cynthia?” he said unbelievingly – and Jonathan stiffened in his chair.
“But then – which paper ended up with Archie’s number on it? Was ther a total mix-up? It would explain why Archie didn’t get in…” Jack was running through the data as he spoke – and then he fell silent, rose from his chair and went to stare out of the window.
“So this is why she didn’t want me to get involved with all this. She was afraid I’d find out.” Cynthia’s paper, her handwriting still recognisable, with Archie’s number at the top of it.
“She swapped numbers with Archie, took the credit for his work and left him with her scores. Take a look for yourself.”
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“How could she? Jack asked. “How could she be so dishonest? And then to look down on Archie and Flora because they didn’t go to the Grammar School. When she only got there by a cheating trick.” He paused. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“I thought she was about to do something. I didn’t realise she’d already done it – or I would have spoken up, changed things.”
“What do you mean?”
“Years ago – I caught Cynthia about to look into the exam papers – she shouldn’t have been in the office at all – and she said she hadn’t touched anything, please don’t tell anyone, she was just so worried…So I held my tongue. I thought there had been no harm done. The only time I ever reminded her of it was when she wasn’t going to let Jonnie marry David.”
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“Jack, it’s your call. You found the error – and this is your wife. Do you want to talk to her about it?”
“Maybe I do…maybe I do.”
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“But yes. Daisy – she has a good eye for colour and style – you have seen her room. Ask her advice, her help. She would be flattered. And also – you go to the gym with Charlie, but what do you do with Daisy? A little time with her would not hurt.”
Jonnie was still wary but, reluctantly, agreed.
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“Yes. All ready for Daisy to paint.”
“And I have sent Daisy and Jonnie off shopping – and told Daisy to make her mother beautiful. I know she can do it.”
“Daisy is becoming a different person.”
“But yes. I agree with you. I think also away from Cynthia she becomes better. Have you heard from Jack?”
Jonathan became grave. “No. And I don’t like that. Poor Jack – he’s such a kind and honest person. He would never do a thing like that. And then to discover that his own wife has betrayed one of his oldest friends…”
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Jonnie was all set to give up and go home – everything she’d tried on had made her look awful. She hadn’t needed to ask Daisy for her opinion – though she’d done so, bearing Lorraine’s words in mind. And she had to admit, Daisy hadn’t been too scathing – she’d stuck with things like “That’s not really your colour” or “I think the neckline’s too fussy.”
“Oh very well then. One thing only – we need to get back soon, Jack’ll be due a feed.”
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“Positive. You look great in blue – you’ve got fabulous eyes and it emphasises them. And it’s not cut clingy-tight, but it’s not all frills and ruffles and bows either, which don’t suit you at all.”
“Daisy – thank you. I’d never have found this on my own. This is sheer genius!”
Daisy blushed with pleasure. I can see what looks good, she thought. And hard on the heels of that thought came another one. So can Grandma H. She knew what she was doing when she made all those awful clothes for Charlie.
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“Go on,” she told herself. “They’re not going to eat you.”
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Lorraine smiled over at Daisy. “Well done, Daisy.”
“I’ll say this for you Daisy, you’ve got better taste than Grandma H when it comes to clothes for Mum,” Charlie admitted.
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“But she always looked good. And so did I.”
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“I’m going to do child-minding – part-time or full-time, depending on what people want – and I’m starting with Jenny Waterfold’s son pretty soon, and also Elinor Lavenham’s toddler – with only the baby to look after, she can work from home, but not with a lively toddler as well! I always did want to work with young children.” And she was suddenly wistful, though only David knew that Cynthia had talked Jonnie out of training as a kindergarten teacher and persuaded her to go into an office instead.
“We’re like, totally coolsville with that, aren’t we Charlie?”
Charlie pulled a face at the words, but agreed with the sentiments. “If that’s what you want to do, Mum, go for it!”
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“Well, ma petite, are you proud of yourself? Because me, I am very proud of you.”
“Oh Grandmère!” Daisy was visibly moved – if her grandmère was proud of her it was because she deserved it.
“Yes. Mum looked beautiful. And Dad was totally wowed by her. I didn’t know I could do that, didn’t know I was that clever. I mean, Charlie’s always been the clever, talented one, and I’ve been the stupid one. Pretty, but nothing else.”
“And now, my Daisy? Now who are you?”
“Someone else. I’m not quite sure who yet, but I’m someone else. And I think I like this person better.”
“Me also, chèrie. Me also. This Daisy, she will do well.”