Page 28 of Best Summer Ever

‘I wanted to tell him that we wouldn’t mind if he called,’ Dad carried on.

‘Well, I bloody would!’ I snapped.

Mum tutted. She hated any kind of profanity. Even a mild one.

‘He didn’t answer,’ Dad then rushed to say, as if that made all the difference in the world. ‘Laurence didn’t pick up. There was no reply. And I didn’t leave a message.’

‘But he now knows that someone has called him from thisnumber,’ I seethed, grinding out the words, ‘because it will be logged on the flat phone and he’s most likely going to assume that person was me.’

‘Yes,’ Dad said, nodding. ‘I can see how he might end up thinking that.’

‘And he’s the very last person I want to talk to,’ I almost shouted. ‘The very last.’

‘I could ring again and explain that it was me,’ Dad suggested.

‘Don’t you dare,’ I said, trying hard to keep hold of my temper. ‘Don’t you dare.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Dad mumbled.

‘And I’m sorry too,’ said Mum. ‘But that said, if Laurence does call—’

‘If Laurence nothing,’ I cut in. ‘I’ve reached my limit with you pair now. I can’t find another way of telling you that Laurence and I are done. Our relationship is over and if you can’t accept that and let me get on with settling back here for the summer and trying to get on with my new job, then I’m… then I’ll… I’ll move out. I’ll leave.’

‘Oh no, Daisy,’ Mum sobbed. ‘Please don’t.’

‘Don’t do that, love,’ pleaded Dad. ‘I promise I won’t interfere anymore.’

‘And I promise I’ll make your dad stick to his promise,’ Mum added.

‘Well, you better,’ I said, scraping back my chair. ‘Because I’ve just about reached the end of my rope.’

Had I not been so angry, the role reversal would have been amusing, but I had reached boiling point and there was nothing funny about that, at all.

Chapter 7

I didn’t need to be back at the Smuggler’s until that evening, but I was too wound up with Dad to want to stay either in the cottage or anywhere on the estate. Not even fruit-basket hunting for Nick would have been capable of distracting me and calming the temper Dad’s misguided action had caused to flare. There was only one thing I could think of that would help, so I packed up my car and headed back to the beach hut in Wynmouth.

The sea still felt ice cold, but I welcomed the sting of it on my skin and I swam and swam, way beyond the point that was sensible. That said, by the time I arrived back on the sand and flopped down next to my towel, my lungs were heaving and I was so exhausted there wasn’t much space left for my bad mood, so the excessive exercise had obviously helped.

I pulled the towel over my head and silently vowed that all thoughts of Laurence from that moment on, were banished, irrespective of the emotion they carried with them. I would no longer be angry with Dad for telephoning the flat or feel humiliated about Laurence’s infidelity. No one other than me knew what he had done and as I hadn’t been in love with himanymore when he did it, the feeling of mortification was hardly warranted, so I was going to chuck it in the very bottom of the ‘stuff it’ bucket and move on.

‘Hey, Daisy, are you all right?’

‘Josh,’ I breathed, as I pulled back the towel and turned my face to the sun to find him blocking it out.

‘You were out there for ages and swimming like fury.’ He frowned. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes,’ I said, shifting position so I could pull my towel around me. ‘I’m okay. Well, I am now.’

I suddenly felt more than okay given the timeliness of his arrival.

‘You sure looked like you had something to swim off,’ he astutely observed.

‘How very perceptive of you.’ I wryly smiled.

‘I was going to join you out there, but then thought better of it.’

I had already taken in that he was wearing shorts and an open beach shirt. His feet were bare and his tanned legs were covered in golden hairs, just like his arms. He had a pair of sandals in one hand and sunglasses pushed up into his hair.

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