Page 7 of The Secret Holiday Kiss

She didn’t have the urge to go down to the seafront yet. She could see the sea from her bedroom window, had walked as far as the fenceline abutting the coast path, and there was only so much nostalgia she could handle at one time. But, from what she had seen of the village, Harry was right. Mistingham seemed to be thriving. Sophie’s stationery shop and the bakery were busy, as was the hotel that, since going to London, she had turned into a Fawlty Towers-type establishment in her mind. It was freshly painted, with expensive cars parked outside, and the pompom bay trees either side of the front steps were wound through with twinkling lights.

This was not a village in decline, its only hope of coming alive in the summer, when tourists descended and families returned to their second homes: it was busy even in November. It wasn’t how she remembered it, but then all her memories had been clouded by loneliness and grief.

She walked back up Perpendicular Street, stopping when a young, dark-haired woman rushed out of the bakery with a girl at her side. Both of them were laughing and holding huge cinnamon buns. As the woman untied a scruffy brown dog from a post outside, she caught Daisy’s eye and smiled.

Daisy thought she recognized her from the wedding. She would probably recognize everyone from the wedding, because Harry and Sophie had basically invited the whole village.

‘Good to see the sun at last,’ the dark-haired woman said.

Daisy nodded. ‘It—’

‘There’s not that much sun.’ The girl wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s pathetic, really.’

The dark-haired woman laughed. ‘It’s November, Lucy. Usually it’s cold and raining.’

The girl, Lucy, turned her attention to Daisy. Her own dark brown hair was in a long plait down her back, her coat a bright red. ‘Even when it’s raining, I have to take Artichoke for a walk. Those are the rules, even though Artichoke doesn’t want to go out in the rain either.’ She rolled her eyes, and Daisy laughed.

‘Dogs have lots of energy,’ she said. ‘Even when it’s wet, they quite like to go out and … sniff trees or whatever.’

‘Exactly.’ The woman beamed. ‘See, Lucy?’

Lucy narrowed her eyes. ‘Do I trust your opinion?’

Daisy grinned. ‘There’s no reason why you should. I’ve never owned a dog. I don’t really know if they love sniffing trees. It’s just what I’ve seen.’

‘Artichoke loves sniffing trees,’ Lucy said thoughtfully. ‘Maybe I’ll trust you.’

‘OK. Are the cinnamon buns good?’ She gestured at the huge cake in the girl’s hand, dusted in golden sugar.

‘They’re the best. My dad makes them.’

‘Your dad’s the baker?’

‘Dexter,’ the woman said, her eyes gleaming with affection.

‘Oh my God, Dexter?’

‘You know him?’

‘I did,’ Daisy admitted, ‘a long time ago.’

‘So you’re …’

‘Back here for a bit, for reasons that are too boring to go into. I’m Daisy, Harry Anderly’s sister.’

‘Oooh! I saw you at the wedding. I’m Imogen, and this is Lucy, and Artichoke.’

‘Lovely to meet you all,’ Daisy said. ‘I’m sure I’ll see you around. Especially if you have to take Artichoke on tree-sniffing missions.’

‘It’s not always raining,’ Lucy said. ‘Sometimes it’s fun. You can come if you like.’

‘That’s very kind,’ Daisy said. ‘I’ll think about it. Give Dexter my love.’

‘Of course,’ Imogen said. ‘It’s good to see you again.’

Daisy and Imogen exchanged a smile, then the trio were off, with their cakes and with Artichoke in a bright pink jumper, as if dogs didn’t already have fur to protect them from the elements.

Daisy turned in the direction of the manor. She’d spoken to enough people this morning, exchanged niceties with strangers, seen faces from her past. It was exhausting. She needed to check in with Mo and Pete, find out what was happening with the flat, then do some research for her meeting with Lars. She needed to swot up on the other cafés in Norwich, remind herself of her favourites in mainland Europe, so she could show Lars some initial ideas, even if he already had a design style in mind.