Gus called and announced the chair had been found and that his mum was no longer angry. Hemstead was both culprit and savior, depending on how one looked at the situation.
Her phoned chimed with Gus’s texts throughout the day and calls at night. He shared wedding ball details while she updated him on her life. Sleeping in, job hunting, and meeting friends she’d not seen in ages for lunch. Also, of her goal was to have a job by June, if not sooner.
He surprised her Thursday with a mid-afternoon visit, carrying in a load of groceries to cook his other infamous specialty. Spaghetti with a homemade meat sauce.
They talked until the wee hours again, falling asleep on the couch. She woke at three in the morning curled in his strong embrace and listened to his breathing, resisting the urge to wake him and ask, “Is this real? What’s happening between us?”
He left Friday just before her first phone interview. It went well, or so it seemed.
Gus wanted her at Hadsby for the weekend, but she’d volunteered to work the kids’ art show at the Metropolitan Art Gallery.
Sunday she would train up to Dalholm for the week of festivities. And the beginning of a new, real life chapter ofMy Life with the Prince.
So far only her parents and Ella knew the truth about her romance with the prince. They’d agreed to keep it that way until after the ball.
Leslie Ann texted and called, wanting to know what was going on with the prince, but Daffy managed to evaded her.
In the meantime, Mum fussed about the impact onherlife when Daffy met her earlier in the week for tea.
“My phone is ringing off the proverbial hook. Aunt Blithe, my mum, my sisters, your dad’s family, the girls in my book club, the RT staff, all wanting to know what’s going on, and why I didn’t tell any of them. I’ve never said ‘I don’t know’ so much in my life.” Then she sighed. “But I always knew you two had a connection.”
Yet when Mum stopped by the flat Friday night, she was somber.
“You look worse for the wear. Can I get you some tea?” Daffy said.
“No thanks, love. Your dad and I just ate.” Mum slipped from her coat and lowered into the rummage sale chair with a sigh. “I love this piece.”
“Then it’s yours when Gus and I get married… I mean, if we get married.”
Mum’s smile was brief. “You’re not at the pub with your mates?”
“Steering clear for a while. In case Thomas and Blinky are there.” Daffy sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing Mum.
“I can’t get over how quickly everything changed for you. Last week you were engaged to Thomas, this week you’re in love with Gus.” Mum squeezed her hand. “Your eyes say it all. You do love him. I’ll say it now, you never glowed with Thomas. I told your dad perhaps you weren’t a glower, but you are. I see it.”
“I’ve blushed over him for years.” Daffy touched her cheeks.
“I told you! No one believes their mother. You’ll learn, when you have kids, how smart I was.” Mum sighed, glanced about, admiring Daffy’s flat, making small talk.
“Mum, say it.” Daffy squeezed her hands. “Whatever’s on your mind?”
“Oh Daffy, I’m not sure I should. I’ve gone round and round in my head since we met for tea. You know I’m thrilled for you, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Why would I get hurt? He loves me. I love him.” Daffy moved to the couch and curled up with the pillow Gus had used, leaving behind his familiar scent.
“You know why, Daff. Don’t lose sight of reason in the clouds of romance. The queen is not going to let you waltz in to her family with a secret the size of the one you’re harboring. It’s too risky. Too easy to let slip. Gus will be your husband. How can you not tell him?”
“I’m not even sure I have a secret, Mum. Eighteen years is a long time. Memories are tricky.”
“Not this one, Daffy. You’re talking yourself out of it because you love Gus. But one day, out of nowhere, the words will come out of your mouth. When you think it’s safe, or you’ll think he already knew. Ten years, twenty years from now.”
“I won’t care then, will I?” She tossed the pillow aside and went to the window. “I’m not sure I remember what I heard that day.”
Beyond the window, the city scene was so pretty, spreading like a white and amber fan that glowed through the darkness. The spiral of Clouver Abbey, which survived a German bombing raid, spiked toward the heavens, held the bells that chimed every hour.
“I remember as if it were yesterday. But since you told me about Gus, I’ve done some digging in my memories and I wanted to check what you wrote in your diary. On those torn out pages you tucked into the cover’s little pocket.”
“I’d love to reread those pages but, Mum, the diary was tossed in the great purge of ’09.” When Daffy told Mum what she’d heard, Mum urged her to write it down, get it off her mind and heart, then forget it. Looking back now, Mum must have suspected the story carried some element of truth.
