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about bringing children into the world under those circumstances.

      Daisy was abruptly brought out of her reverie by the sound of another car coming up the drive and realised she hadn’t actually moved since Lisa left.

      James, in his Maserati, roared up to where she stood and hopped out. He walked quickly over to her and took her in a warm, comforting hug.

      ‘Daisy, how you doing?’ He eyed her bag. ‘Been out shopping? That’s good.’

      She wanted to point out that she was still able to dress herself, eat and move. Hugh’s death hadn’t taken those facilities from her, but she knew, deep down, he was just being kind and she was being entirely unreasonable. She always wanted to look like a strong woman around James, when in fact, right now, she wished he would just hug her again.

      ‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘Lisa thought it was a good idea to go to the shopping mall in Bristol. She bought jeans which make her already stunning body look more… stunning.’ Daisy smiled. ‘I, on the other hand, was beached on the shore of Levi’s Land and decided make-up was probably a better bet for someone like me. Oh, and wide trousers.’

      He laughed, his kind eyes lighting up, but when Daisy’s eyes fell to what looked like an envelope in his hand, he immediately stopped and grew seemingly tense.

      ‘What did you want to give me, James?’ She almost dared not to ask. ‘Is it that envelope?’

      She heard his breath catch. ‘Yes.’ He indicated to the house. ‘Shall we go in? Only I think it’s best if you’re sitting down.’

      She nodded in agreement, her heart quickening. They walked towards the solid oak front door. She opened her bag and found the key. Daisy didn’t like to open the door when she had company; the dull ache she felt every time she realised Hugh wouldn’t be there made her feel quite light-headed.

      ‘Are you OK?’

      She felt James’s hand on her arm, warm and firm.

      ‘Yes,’ she murmured, a lump in her throat. ‘I just find certain things a bit hard still.’ She looked up at James who nodded and bit his lip; almost as if he was dreading showing her whatever was in that envelope. ‘Let’s go through to the kitchen, have a cup of tea.’

      She felt happiest there and, at this time of year, she could see the snowdrops scattered across the lawn.

      As she busied herself filling the kettle and placing it on the Aga, James sat and nervously handled the envelope.

      ‘So anything new?’ She knew it hadn’t been easy for him either, losing both a best friend and colleague. ‘Any girlfriend on the scene?’ She always asked this, braced for him to one day confirm he was seeing someone. She could only describe the feeling as jealousy but why should she be jealous of James loving another woman? They were just friends…

      ‘Nothing new.’ James’s face grew grim. ‘I miss him at work, the whole place changed after Hugh’s death. It’s probably as it always has been but I can’t even look at the water cooler without thinking about him. I know he wasn’t there for quite big chunks of time towards the end anyway but just knowing that…’ His voice trailed off. ‘Well, I don’t need to explain it to you.’

      She turned and appraised James. He looked older, with deeper lines around his eyes, since Hugh’s death, but he was still as rugged and gorgeous as ever. She and Hugh had always joked that he should have been a model and not hidden away in the world of banking.

      ‘No,’ Daisy agreed and put a mug of steaming tea in front of him. ‘You have every right, though, to feel as cut up as I do. Anyone who knew Hugh does.’ Daisy smiled tenderly at James. ‘You know he had such a great effect on so many people’s lives. And he could, also, be the most boring old fart on two legs.’

      James barked out a laugh and then grew self-conscious as though he felt he shouldn’t allow himself to be happy.

      ‘Laugh, James, when you can. We are allowed to laugh.’ Daisy had no idea when she had become such an expert but maybe she was beginning to come through some initial phase of grieving. She was paraphrasing the book she had been given by Tom: Stop Crying and Pull Yourself Together.

      Tom had presented it with such a flourish she hadn’t had the heart to tell him that the title was a bit harsh. That being said, she had actually read it and it had made her laugh aloud so, who knew, maybe it worked?

      ‘In fact,’ she continued, ‘I was talking to Lisa today about… moving on.’

      He raised his brows. ‘Moving on? As in…’

      ‘Yes, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life by myself.’

      ‘Hmm.’ He nodded, sipping fast at his tea. He then pushed the envelope across to her.

      ‘It’s a letter.’ He averted his eyes. ‘If you say you’re ready to move on, maybe I was right in thinking I should give it to you today…’

      She nodded.

      ‘From Hugh,’ he went on.

      Her heart skipped a beat and her mind went into overdrive. Had he been having an affair and now had countless children – the children they’d never had – with another woman or more? Had he decided to leave his money to someone else, was his will a joke?

      She put a cool hand to her forehead and breathed deeply.

      ‘Are you OK?’ James asked, suddenly by her side. ‘It’s not actually bad, if that’s what you’re worried about. He just asked me to give it to you when maybe you felt a bit stronger.’ He gave a small shake to his head, and pushed it at her again. ‘Sorry, I’m making it sound awful. Just read it.’

      Slowly, Daisy picked up the envelope, her hand visibly shaking, and with her forefinger, she sliced through the top. The sight of Hugh’s handwriting even on the envelope was like a warm, comforting hug and she drew out a piece of manila paper, the very kind that Hugh had kept in a small pile on his desk. His neat and precise writing filled the page. She brought the letter up to her nose, hoping to smell him but there was nothing.

      James excused himself, told her he would be by the oak tree when she wanted him. He took his mug and left her alone.

       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

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