‘I’m glad you like it, Daisy,’ Lydia said, raising her glass to them.
‘So,’ Gabriel said. ‘What are you treating us to for dinner tonight?’ He leant forward slightly and in a mock whisper to Daisy, said, ‘Nan is an excellent cook and likes to try out different recipes, so be prepared.’
Daisy laughed. ‘You look perfectly healthy on Mrs Grey’s cooking,’ she teased.
‘Please call me Lydia,’ she said. ‘Being called Mrs Grey in my home is making me feel old.’ She rested a hand on Daisy’s forearm. ‘I don’t do all the cooking. I have Anna – she’s my housekeeper and cooks for me, as well as keeping everything in order. I mainly potter around my garden and take long walks on the beach.’ She laughed. ‘Gabriel doesn’t enjoy much of my cooking. He wasn’t impressed with the chocolate chilli sauce I concocted the last time he was staying.’
Daisy wasn’t surprised. She hoped she wasn’t being treated to a similar combination. ‘Oh?’
Gabriel laughed. ‘I think Daisy is a bit more of a traditionalist when it comes to food, Nan.’
‘Not necessarily,’ Daisy said, not wishing to offend Lydia.
‘You like the idea of chocolate and chilli in a dish?’ Lydia asked. ‘I can’t help thinking of it as rather an unnecessary combination.’
Daisy couldn’t help smiling. ‘No,’ she said.
‘I have to admit, I didn’t much like it either,’ Lydia laughed. ‘But it was worth a try. I haven’t made anything too unfamiliar for us tonight though.’
Daisy smiled, then sat back in the cushioned metal chair and looked out across the well-kept garden to the sea once again. ‘It’s very peaceful here, isn’t it?’
Lydia nodded. ‘It can be a little too peaceful when Gabriel is away. Sometimes, in the summer, I rent out rooms to Francesca and Rick’s acting friends who’vecome over on tour to the Arts Trust or the Opera House. I like the company and it’s good to talk to new people in the business.’
Daisy was delighted Lydia had brought up the subject of acting. ‘Gabriel and I were only just discussing your fascinating career on the way here in the car,’ she said. ‘I grew up looking at books on film and actors that my mum collected. There were loads of pictures of you.’ She hesitated before adding, ‘Do you miss that life at all?’
Lydia took a sip of her drink and stared at her thoughtfully before answering. ‘Sometimes.’ She placed her drink back down on table. ‘I’m far too old for all that now, but I loved it when I was filming and even the initial struggle to be discovered.’
‘I think my mum dreamed of being an actress and when she didn’t realise her dream she tried to encourage me to act,’ Daisy admitted. It wasn’t something she’d shared with anyone else. ‘She made me go to dance and acting lessons and even took extra jobs to pay for them all.’
‘What happened?’ Gabriel asked, resting back in his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
Daisy smiled at the memory. ‘I was hopeless and so shy the last thing I wanted to do was perform in front of anyone. I hated the lessons.’ She thought back to that first time in the class with twenty other children, all of whom seemed to love what they were doing. ‘We had to be ants wading through honey, or something. I didn’t see the point and would have much rather been out with my best friend riding her pony.’
‘I don’t blame you,’ Gabriel laughed. ‘I was always in a swimming pool.’
Lydia turned her attention to her grandson. ‘I remember when your father was certain you had the voice of an angel and should audition for one of those church choirs on the mainland.’
Gabriel nodded. ‘Until Mum told him that if I was going to be an entertainer I should be an actor. That was when I decided to go into something far removed from their business.’
‘Marine exploration?’ Daisy asked. ‘That’s quite a different route to go down on the career front.’
Lydia got up. ‘He was in the water at every opportunity, this boy.’ She rested a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. ‘I’ll go inside and sort out the food and leave you two here to chat for a few minutes.’
‘Call me when you want me to come and carry out the plates,’ Gabriel said, before turning his attention back to Daisy. ‘Nan doesn’t often talk about her acting, you know. I think she misses it more than she lets on. I also believe it’s why she’s always been so supportive of Mum and Dad by taking over at the hotel and looking after me, so they could take on work.’
Daisy wondered how it must feel to have someone willing to do that whenever you needed them to. She envied Francesca and Rick their freedom. ‘She’s a wonderful lady.’
He looked towards the doorway through which his grandmother had just walked. ‘She is. I’m very lucky to have her.’
‘It must have been wonderful to spend so much time here when you were growing up.’
‘Yes, I always loved it. Nan is very relaxed and great fun to be with. If I’m honest, I used to look forward to my parents going away. They were always happier to be doing something they loved, and Nan was pleased to have me here with her. How about you, what was your childhood like?’
Daisy thought back to lonely days in Devon with her mum working long hours trying to make enough for them to live on, and the occasional visits from her father. She’d learnt from experience that lies hurt. Her mother had beenlet down by him before she was born and despite him running away then coming back after Daisy’s birth, insisting he wanted to make a go of their relationship, her mother had been so hurt by his initial cowardice that she’d said no. He’d gone off and married another woman within months, and her mother had never got over losing him.
Daisy recalled the humiliation of only being allowed to see her father when his family didn’t expect him to be around. She hated that she was his secret child, despite her mother trying to make her accept that being a ‘love child’ was in some way romantic. It wasn’t. She refused to be anyone’s second best ever again.
When she’d grown into a teenager her dream had been for her art to be good enough to hold her own exhibition, and that ambition had been on the point of realisation until Aaron had made life so impossible for her that she’d had to leave everything behind at barely a moment’s notice.
