The Life Daisy Devlin Designed

CHAPTER 11

Daisy sat down at her parents’ big kitchen table that Sunday, and tried to ignore the fact that for the second weekend she was on her own.

James had taken the car and left shortly after the twins’ party the day before, but had suggested Daisy stay and catch up with her family.

Yesterday she’d been furious. She hadn’t said anything to James but the last thing she wanted was to be with someone who didn’t want to be with her. She’d found herself thinking again about Matt. One of her many theories about why he’d left was that after five years together Matt had felt stifled. His summer in New York had given him a taste of freedom, and he’d decided to embrace it. Now, she and James had been together the same length of time she’d been with Matt!

Daisy passed a bowl of peas to Annie. She’d be heading back up on the train to Dublin later on with all the college students. At this moment, sitting here with her parents, her older sister and brother-in-law and their four children, she felt exactly like the student she’d once been, coming home to visit at the weekend.

Not that she’d made a habit of it, she thought, a bit guiltily. In fact, she probably saw her family a lot more now than she had as a student. Or to be more precise, while she’d been with Matt.

“Isn’t this a real treat having you all here?” Daisy’s mother, Miriam, beamed around the table. “All the flowers in my garden.” She winked at Penny who carefully spooned some peas and gravy into her mouth.

“You only have two flowers, Nana: Mummy and Daisy. The rest of us have real names,” Penny said.

Daisy hid a grin. Their parents had been hippies in the seventies and had simply decided there was no reason to ever change.

As a result, Rosie and Daisy had enjoyed a laidback childhood which, Daisy guessed, was probably why Rosie had rebelled by becoming what their mother deemed ‘mainstream’.

She also knew that she was more like her mother than Rosie was. Whereas her older sister lived in a uniform of starchy shirts and well-designed, utterly boring trousers, Daisy had inherited Miriam’s love of colourful, vintage clothes.

Miriam chuckled at Penny’s remark, before turning to her eldest daughter.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do in September, Rosie?”

Rosie seemed to stiffen. “Not yet, Mum.”

Daisy shot them a confused look, and Miriam sighed. “Rosie’s five-year career break will be up then. She could go back to work as a physiotherapist.”

“Occupational therapist,” Rosie corrected, and Miriam gave a knowing smile.

“Exactly. You’re doing a wonderful job at home, loveen, but you don’t want to waste all those years of study. Not when you could be doing so much to help. Sure, isn’t there a fierce shortage of people qualified in your field?”

Daisy always found it strange that their own mother had stayed at home to paint but had strongly encouraged that both of them pursue ‘proper’ careers. Although Miriam always insisted that she was creative, and her painting was more than a hobby. In fairness to her mum, she had sold a few of her paintings down the years, mainly to some of the local businesses, who liked to be seen to support one of their own.

Daisy just hoped she didn’t try to sell her latest project: a life-sized, nude self-portrait.

“I really haven’t decided anything yet.” Rosie looked over at Ben. “Ben, don’t eat so fast.” She turned back to her mother. “I’ve four children, I’m on two parent associations, and I’m chairperson of the Tidy Towns committee. I’m busy enough.”

“Maybe for now,” Miriam said. “All I’m saying is be careful before you completely throw away a career. It might suit you at the moment to be at home, but you’ve a great brain and it won’t be too easy if you want to get back in another few years. For a start, your age might go against you.”

“Maybe you could go back part-time,” Daisy said. “You know, two days a week, or something.”

Judging by Rosie’s expression, Daisy imagined she’d be less horrified if she’d suggested that Rosie run naked through Eyre Square.

“Can we change the subject?” Rosie said tightly.

Séan cleared his throat and turned to his father-in-law. “How are the chickens, Eric?”

The older man ran a hand over his spotlessly clean, grey beard. “Ten of the happiest girls around,” he said. “Clever, too. Do you know they can sense changes in the weather? We don’t need anyone to tell us when there’s a storm coming.” He looked around at his grandchildren. “They do the chicken dance when it’s going to rain.” He batted his arms and made some loud clucking noises, causing the children to dissolve into giggles. Grinning, he turned back to Séan. “I’ve just finished extending their run, so they’re safe as houses.”

“Are we eating one of your chickens today, Granddad?” Rosie’s younger son, Sam, asked, apparently more curious than anything.

The twins shrieked and dropped their forks.

“Relax, kids!” Eric waved a hand at the table. “I bought these birds in the local butcher’s yesterday. Our hens are specially bred for egg-laying, and they’ll live long, happy lives and die peacefully of old age.”

There was a tense pause, when Daisy wondered if half of Rosie’s children would suddenly declare themselves vegetarian, but they seemed to decide it was all right to eat chickens they’d never actually met.

“Oh now, we’ve a bit of news, haven’t we, Mim?” Eric nodded at his wife, who beamed at him.“Of course.” She clapped her hands. “To celebrate our fortieth wedding anniversary in June, we’re going to throw a big party.”

“Will it be like ours?” The twins bounced up and down.

“A bit.” Miriam winked at them.

“ With a unicorn bouncy castle? ” Annie shrieked.

“No, loveen, but we’re going to have a huge big tent in our front garden and have lots and lots of people.”

“What?” Rosie looked horrified. “Seriously, Mum?”

Daisy guessed Rosie was worried that her parents would simply throw open their home to the whole town. And that she’d get stuck with helping to plan the logistics of it all. Privately, she wondered if her parents could really afford to hire a marquee and cater for the numbers she knew her generous mother would insist on inviting. Her dad’s salary as an English and history teacher was modest, and she was pretty sure that whatever her mother made just about kept her in canvasses and paintbrushes.

“Of course I’m serious.” Miriam tucked her long hair, heavily streaked with pinks and purples, behind her ears. “It’ll be fun.”

“I fancy a good DJ,” Eric said, tapping Sam on the hand. “We’ll get them to play the Chicken Song . ”

“All the local DJs are useless,” Rosie said dismissively. “You’ll need a halfway decent band. At least it’d lend some atmosphere.”

It was astonishing, Daisy thought. She could almost see the cogs in Rosie’s brain starting to whirr into motion.

“As long as they can play some Garth Brooks stuff,” Eric said, helping himself to some more potatoes. “Oh, and a few Kayley Lynch songs, too. I like that one – ‘One More Like You’.”

Daisy grinned. “That’s not very rock and roll of you, Dad!”

“Just mixing it up a bit, Daisy flower.” He winked at her.

“You know she’s coming to Ireland this June?” Daisy drank some of her mother’s home-made elderberry wine. “She’s doing a night here in Galway. You and Mum could go and see her.”

Miriam glanced at Eric. “Well, if you’re stuck for something to get us, I suppose you could buy tickets. But, to be honest, your dad is the real fan.” She patted Daisy’s arm. “The party will be very relaxed, loveen. You can invite James’ parents. Oh, and Laura, too. How’s she keeping, anyway? And that husband of hers – although you don’t like him, do you?”

Daisy stifled a sigh. Her mother could be very blunt.

“Laura is great, Mum. Brian’s just a bit of a ...” She stopped as she noticed Rosie’s warning look.

“Twat?” Miriam said.

“ Mum! ” Rosie tutted loudly.

“They’re married a few years now, aren’t they?” Miriam said, completely ignoring Rosie.

Daisy shifted uncomfortably at the table. Laura and Brian had married at just twenty-four, the same year her relationship with Matt had ended.

The timing had been terrible, and Laura had even offered to delay the wedding, but Daisy had known how unrealistic that was. The hardest thing she’d had to do was to be there as Laura’s bridesmaid, without Matt. But she’d done it. And, somehow, she’d moved on.

Miriam poured herself a second glass of wine, took a large gulp and swirled it around her mouth before swallowing.

“Do you think they’ll have their own chicks?” she said.

“Ah, Mum, I don’t know,” said Daisy. “Maybe not.” Laura had never hinted that she and Brian were trying, nor had she shown the slightest interest in children.

Miriam gave a thoughtful nod. “Well, if I were her, I’d be getting my eggs checked.”

“Jesus, Mum,” Rosie muttered.

“And what about you and James? Miriam continued. “Pity he couldn’t stay, by the way. Anyway, no harm in getting yours checked too, Daisy flower.”

“Checked?” Daisy echoed.

“Maybe get some frozen. I went into menopause at thirty-seven, remember? I was always fierce sorry not to have any more chicks.”

Miriam gave her husband a wistful smile, as Séan went bright red, and all four children gave her confused looks.

Finally, Penny spoke up. “Does your friend keep chickens too, Daisy?”

Daisy smiled brightly at her. “She does, Penny. Lots of them.”

“So, what’s really going on?” Rosie asked, as she drove Daisy to the train station later that afternoon.

Daisy glanced across. “How do you mean?”

“With you, Daisy. You were pretty quiet at the table. You don’t seem yourself. You and Mum are usually giggling away about something when you come down.” When Daisy said nothing, she added more gently, “Is it James?”

Daisy felt her chest tighten. After the hurtful remarks Rosie had made the day before about her weight, the last thing Daisy wanted was to admit she was upset with James. She wished he’d stayed the night. They could have gone out for dinner in Galway city and had a few cocktails – maybe even caught a session in one of the pubs – before getting a late taxi back to her parents’ house. They were young, and they’d no kids to tie them down, but in the last year – two if she were being honest – the passion and the romance had almost completely disappeared. She was pretty sure that wasn’t normal after five years together. But they seemed stuck.

She’d always thought it was only married couples who found themselves stuck. People who’d been married for years, maybe. Or couples with kids, who were so stressed by parenting and holding everything together at home, as well as hanging onto their jobs, that they hardly had time for each other. But Rosie and Séan seemed happy, even if Rosie was a bit of a dose sometimes.

She’d thought she and James were happy too.

Buying the house together had felt like a real commitment. The only downside had been having to rent out the spare room, and they’d assured each other it would only be short term. But Alma had been living with them for what felt like forever, and their little home – that she’d so carefully designed and decorated – felt more like a student house share. One where she felt she didn’t belong.

“It just feels weird being down two weekends in a row.” Daisy took refuge behind the half-truth, and tried not to think about James driving back home to Alma.

Who really knew what anyone would do, she wondered. James seemed ... stressed. Which was probably why he was taking refuge in computer games all the time. Or maybe he was just bored.

Had Matt become bored with her too? And if Matt could leave, why not James? She couldn’t risk missing the signs again!

“Daisy?”

“ Hmm? ”

“Are you sure that’s all it is?”

Rosie looked so concerned that Daisy found herself caving. She might as well tell Rosie the truth now – she had a habit of extracting information one way or another.

“Matt’s home.”

The car swerved slightly, as Rosie took a moment to right the wheel. “Your Matt?”

“He’s not my Matt! He hasn’t been my Matt in a long time.” Daisy looked over at Rosie. “Don’t tell Mum and Dad. They claim to be pacifists, but I wouldn’t put it past Dad to hire a hitman.”

There was a short silence. Then Rosie spoke slowly.

“Row back, now. How do you know he’s home? Did he get in touch?”

“ Er , well, no.”

“Oh Jesus, please don’t tell me you got in touch.”

“He bought Granary House and I pitched to redesign it.”

When Rosie gave her a blank look, Daisy said, “It’s a historic house in Wicklow I’ve wanted to redesign for years.”

“ That’s your excuse? Who do you think you’re talking to, Daisy?”

Rosie pulled up at the train station, and Daisy got out and grabbed her overnight bag from the back seat.

“Thanks for the lift.”

“Daisy, be honest, was that the only reason you got in touch?”

“It felt like a sign, Rosie!”

“God almighty, Daisy, you’re as flaky as Mum. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her sister knew nothing about her life, Daisy thought – and she understood even less! When she didn’t reply, Rosie just shook her head.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

Daisy silently counted to five. “I promise, okay? This is strictly business. And maybe closure.” She flashed her what she hoped was a reassuring smile but, judging by her sister’s expression, she didn’t believe her.

As Daisy walked towards her platform, it struck her that she didn’t believe it either.