Sunshine at Daisy’s Guesthouse: A heartwarming summer romance to escape with in 2018!. Lottie Phillips

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       Chapter 2

      Daisy was grateful when they pulled off the M4 and away from the madness of Bristol. There had been a time when she loved nothing more than heading into the city with her friends or Hugh and soaking up the buzz of the cosmopolitan hubbub.

      Now she couldn’t cope with it. She wanted to scream at everyone that they were being too noisy, too energetic, too alive. The countryside was quieter, allowed her to think, enabled her to remember Hugh properly, although Lisa believed she needed to make new memories. As she had pointed out, she was just fine with the ones she had. It was all she had, and she didn’t want to let go of them – but was it time?

      Lisa drove quickly in her convertible, top down even though it really hadn’t warmed up enough, towards Atworth where Daisy lived – had lived – with Hugh. Hugh had become an incredibly successful banker and bought an enormous manor house on the outskirts of the village. Daisy had never, growing up, imagined she would live and own such a glorious pile with its creamy sandstone walls, and ivy and wisteria creeping ever higher up to the tiled roof. The front garden alone was so picturesque it often took her breath away to this day, with its aged stone benches and cherub spouting water into the lake. It was actually just a big pond but Tom, her other best friend, said it was a lake. He was quite sure of it.

      ‘A pond, Daisy darling, is the size of the paddling pool we had in our student house, yours could take a rowing boat. Catch my drift?’ To which he fell about laughing at his own wit.

      The back garden was sublime. Wild roses and an oak tree that Hugh adored. He would often sit for hours at a time on the weekends (he was rarely around in the week), reading his Financial Times and snoozing. He never knew but Daisy used to watch him and fall in love with him all over again. Hugh had worked so hard to buy the house and to keep her in a lifestyle that her own mother, a farmer’s wife, had thought was too grand for the likes of her daughter.

      ‘Well, Daisy, don’t forget it’s was me and your father putting our hands up sheep’s asses that allowed you to go to university, you hear? Don’t you ever forget your roots.’ She had a strong Gloucestershire accent – you could almost smell the grass and taste the cheese when you listened to her.

      They drove up to the house and Lisa turned the ignition off.

      ‘I’m afraid I have to go and feed the red-trousered folk of Cirencester.’ She pulled a face. ‘So that should mean an evening of over the top laughter and women claiming the crudités are “so filling, darling, couldn’t eat another morsel”, and then the men will drink their whisky and talk golf and skiing.’ She laughed. ‘It’s a joy.’

      Daisy smiled. ‘You know, I feel your luck is about to change.’

      Lisa giggled. ‘Why, have you found me some rich banker friend? Because if you have, I don’t even care what he looks like.’ She snorted. ‘You know it’s best to have sex in the dark anyway. You just imagine they’re George Clooney, job done.’

      Daisy grinned and got out of the car. ‘You, Lisa Davidson, are my best friend and a gem.’ She paused and indicated the length of Lisa’s body. ‘You have kept in such good shape and look great, Tom is probably one of the best-looking gay men on planet earth, James is just,’ she smiled, ‘lovely… and I’ve… got a good sense of humour.’

      ‘Good sense of humour?’ Lisa shrieked with laughter. ‘That’s what fat people say when they’re advertising themselves on dating sites.’