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‘Okay, so what about your mum? What do I need to know there? Is she into birds too?’

‘My mum? God, no. That’d hardly be her number-one topic of conversation.’

‘So what would be?’

Daisy glanced at Theo and noted the way he was staring at the road ahead of him. His hands were gripping the steering wheel unusually tightly. Of course, it was probably about thetraffic and driving on the motorway. It wasn’t something they did very often now that he was back living in Wildflower Lock.

‘To be honest, I don’t know. You’re just going to have to judge the conversation when you get there, I’m afraid. Mum’s one of those women with a hundred different hobbies. One minute she’s into quilting, the next she’s taken a lead role in the village amateur dramatics performance, and then two weeks later she’ll be helping with the WI, making jams and chutneys for their latest shows.’

‘So she likes cooking, then?’ Daisy said, grateful to have found a commonality she could use, although surprisingly, Theo shook his head.

‘No, she hates cooking.’

‘But you said she makes chutney?’

‘If the WI wants chutney. Mum’s one of those people who can’t be left out of any situation. That’s why she does all these different hobbies: to make sure she’s always included.’

‘Oh,’ Daisy said, not sure how else she was supposed to reply to such a comment. It didn’t sound exactly complimentary.

‘I think it’s a retirement thing,’ Theo replied. ‘She wasn’t like it when we were growing up. Or at least I don’t remember her being like it. But when retirement hit, she suddenly found herself without a way to spend her time and started taking up all these hobbies, and she hasn’t stopped.’

‘She was a teacher, right?’ Daisy said, trying to recall what Theo had previously told her about his family. ‘Or was that your dad?’

‘Sort of. They were lecturers,’ Theo explained. ‘Dad lectured in politics. No surprise there. Mum in history. Though she took early retirement years ago.’

‘History?’ Daisy tried to recall what she could from her school years, sitting at the graffiti-covered tables in her history class. Her teacher had been addicted to dictation, sheremembered that much. Lessons were all spent sitting in silence, with the students scribbling away as fast as their wrists could manage, trying to make sure they didn’t miss a single date or name. It was fair to say Daisy didn’t have the fondest memories of history, and she had dropped it before she even hit GCSE level. She would probably have to find other conversations to have with Theo’s mother, and given all the various artistic hobbies she enjoyed, they were bound to have some similar interests. Weren’t they?

It didn’t take long before the effect of the late night was taking a toll and Daisy found herself struggling to keep her eyes open, but the last thing she wanted to do was fall asleep and leave Theo driving all that way with no one to talk to and so she struggled on, chatting away, turning the volume on the radio up extra loud so that she didn’t drift off. And for a while, it worked, until a couple of hours into the trip, when they stopped off at a cute farm shop for something to eat. Afterwards, with the weight of the food sitting in her stomach, and the warmth of the sun beating through the windows and heating the car, Daisy found her eyes feeling heavy. It was too much. She just needed a quick twenty-minute nap. That was what she told Theo. A quick nap and she would be fine. And so she let her eyes close.

‘Hey you.’ Theo’s hand rocked her gently on the shoulder.

A sound that was something between a yawn and a groan escaped Daisy’s mouth as she finally pushed herself up straight.

‘Wow, I needed that.’

‘I figured as much,’ Theo replied.

Still yawning, Daisy blinked a couple of times until her vision finally focused, and she was surprised to find they were no longer on the motorway. In fact, they were no longer on a road of any sort. Instead, they were parked up outside a large gate, which lead to a private road.

‘I hope you’re feeling well-rested,’ Theo said as he leaned across and kissed her lips. ‘Because it’s time for you to meet my parents.’

13

Daisy wasn’t cross with Theo; she couldn’t be. Only the night before, he had proposed to her in a more romantic manner than she could have ever dreamt of, but she wished she had had just a little more preparation for meeting his parents. She should have brought something with her – a cake, perhaps, or one of the pecan tarts she had been making recently for the café. They had been flying off the shelf and would have been a perfect gift. Instead, she was turning up with a bottle of wine that someone had left on the boat the night before. Fingers crossed it was a good one.

‘I just wish I could get changed first,’ Daisy said, wishing she hadn’t worn a material that crumpled so much for such a long journey. ‘And are you sure they don’t mind us staying at theirs? We could get a hotel.’

‘Really, you are fussing about nothing. Look, they might take a bit of time to warm up to you, but once they see how much I love you, they’re going to be just as smitten with you as I am,’ Theo said.

Daisy knew the words were meant to comfort her. They didn’t.

‘What do you mean, “take a bit of time to warm up”? Why will they need to warm up to me? Do they know things about me already? Is it because I didn’t go to university? Are they the type of people who only like you if you’ve got a proper education? What am I saying? Of course they are. They’re bloody lecturers.’

‘Will you stop?’ Theo said, reaching across and placing his hand on her knee. ‘There is nothing about you that my parents shouldn’t love. I’m just warning you that they can be a bit peculiar. A bit standoffish sometimes.’

Daisy was feeling worse and worse.

‘What do you mean, peculiar? Standoffish? I need examples. Do they know things about me? Like about Christian? Is that why they don’t like me? Because I didn’t know what I was thinking before we first got together? Or was it the trip around London? They think I’m irresponsible, don’t they? That I’m a bad influence on you? Oh God. This is going to be terrible. It is, I can feel it.’