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

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       Chapter 3

       My dearest Daisy,

       Firstly I want to tell you I love you. You are my world, my rock, my life.

       I have asked James to give you this letter when I hope the rawness has faded a bit. Even better, maybe you are bloody relieved to have got rid of the boring old sod! Hopefully you are having parties every night and living the life you want and deserve. Keep laughing, I adore the way your nose wrinkles when you laugh, I adore the way you sometimes laugh so hard, there isn’t a sound! How is that possible?!

       I am writing this in the present tense because I’m still here for you but that being said, I want you to have fun, live life to the full, and maybe, hopefully, find love again.

       I only have one wish because really this was our wish. We dreamt and often talked about setting up a bed and breakfast at Atworth Manor. I know you’re thinking you won’t do it without me. You’re stubborn like that. Try it though. For me? See what adventures it brings you. I have left you, as you will know by now, the house and everything that ever belonged to me. If you want to follow our dream, I am there with you every step of the way.

       James knows about our dream and says he will help in any way he can. He wants to be there for you, to look out for you. Please let him, he’s a good man.

       Keep this letter and read it when you feel like you can’t do something. You can, Daisy Ronaldson, you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever had the honour of knowing and I still can’t believe you said ‘yes’ in Amsterdam.

       Say ‘yes’ again, let’s make our wish come true.

       Love and kisses,

       Hugh xxx

      Daisy put down the letter, tears streaming down her cheeks, and tried to breathe through the onslaught of raw emotion threatening to drown her. James entered the room quietly and sat down next to her, taking her hand.

      ‘Holy shit, James,’ she said. ‘There was never a right time to give me this, the silly sod.’ She smiled through her tears. ‘And I am not stubborn.’

      She waited, the gasps of her fast breathing the only sound.

      ‘James, have you read it?’ He nodded. ‘You see, the B&B was our dream. Our dream. It was after we watched that couple in France doing up that chateau. I remember we had had a couple of bottles of something Hugh had found in the cellar and we talked like we could do something like that here, in England.’ She snorted with laughter, tears still pooling. ‘But even though we often joked, if we were ever to have done it, it would have been together.’ She looked up once more. ‘Good lord, Hugh Ronaldson makes me angry. Why does he lay this idea at my feet and expect me to run with it? I don’t do as I’m told.’ James nodded his agreement with a wry smile on his face. ‘I know, I know, I’ve never done what anyone’s said. Well, there you go, I don’t plan to start now.’

      She looked at James through blurry tears. ‘No offense but I don’t need you to look after me. I’ll be just fine.’ She circled the knots in the wooden farmhouse table with her finger. ‘In fact, maybe, just maybe I’ll move to France and meet some baker and eat croissants for the whole of my life and use that bit of French I vaguely learnt at university. I mean, as you know, James, I have five minutes on Le Front National down pat.’ She giggled. ‘Look, if those two off the telly box can manage, then so could I.’

      She hung her head and let out a long shaky breath. He let her keep talking.

      ‘Shit me, James, why did he do it? Why did he go and leave me? We were meant to be together forever. That was the deal. I even changed the words at our ceremony. Until arguing over house furnishings do us part. Remember?’

      James laughed with affection and grabbed her hand, holding it up to his cheek.

      ‘Do you also remember how appalled my mother was at our ceremony? She wanted to know why we had all this posh food, when we could have had her hog roaster for free…’

      Daisy smiled, brushed more tears from her cheeks, and rose from her chair, her legs unsteady beneath her. She had not been expecting that. The grief suddenly felt so fresh and acute, the breath knocked from her lungs.

      ‘Do you know I sometimes talk to the ceiling?’ She smiled, wiped her nose with a sheet of paper towel. ‘Because I let myself believe he can hear me.’

      James smiled kindly. ‘I’ve done that too.’

      ‘Well, we’re as barmy as each other.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘Listen, James, this all feels quite odd actually.’ She held up the letter. ‘You see, many years ago Hugh and I watched this programme…’

      ‘I know.’ He nodded. ‘The couple in the French chateau. I saw it, Hugh told me you had been quite serious about this dream.’