Page 69 of One Last Try

“Is your sister coming back for the holidays?” I ask.

“She usually does, but I’m not sure this time. She has her exams next month, so she’s probably too focused on that right now.”

Daisy serves another customer—an older man I recognise from the quiz a couple of weeks ago but never caught his name. He orders two Old Boy’s Tackle shandies.

“You didn’t fancy going to uni?” I ask when the man leaves. “Or are you on a gap year?”

Daisy shrugs, then puffs all the air out of her mouth through flappy lips, like a horse. “Dad wants me to go to uni, but . . .”

I wait a few seconds but she doesn’t finish her thought. “What do you wanna do for work? After you leave here, of course.” I’m not sure how good my advice will be. I never went to uni. Went into professional sport at the age of eighteen instead.

I would have totally bossed uni, though.

“I literally have no idea. I like it here, in this pub. It’s the perfect job. I’m surrounded by friends all day, every day. I get to have a laugh. I get to watch the games on the screen. I get to see people I love and care about being happy.” She’s not even remotely abashed that she sounds so sappy. “I enjoy being this involved in the community. Pretty sure Dad wants more for me, though. Like he wants me to be a doctor or an architect, or to have a career that lasts into old age. Not a sports career like him.” She picks at the label on an empty wine bottle, and doesn’t look at me.

“Do you want a sports career? You were great out there on the sevens pitch.” Not gonna lie, Daisy’s good. She’s fast and agile, and isn’t afraid of getting down and dirty, but her formidable no-bullshit attitude makes her an even better ref. “Tiny but ferocious.”

“I’m only tiny next to a giant like you. And Lan. Bet I could beat both of you in a fight, though,” she says.

“I don’t doubt it.” I down the rest of my pint, and an idea strikes me. Okay, less of an idea, more of a very loose notion. A wisp of a notion. A notion fart. I haven’t figured out any details. “Daisy, you said you love working here because of the community . . .”

Daisy peers at me from under furrowed brows. “Yeah?”

“I actually don’t have a point yet. I just need to ramble. Bear with me,” I say, holding up a finger as though pinning the thought into place. “I’m thinking we could do some kind of community led event to raise the roof money. Imentioned organising a summer fair this morning, but your dad didn’t seem too enthusiastic about it.”

“Yeahhh,” she says, stretching out the word. There’s hesitation in her voice. “Dad already told me he doesn’t want the village getting involved. He said it would feel like accepting charity because he’s the only person who benefits from it, and these are his problems and no one else’s, or whatever.”

“But thisisthe community.” I’m still not entirely sure what point I’m trying to make, but I need to keep talking it through. Maybe I’ll eventually arrive at it, maybe not. “I checked, Mudford-upon-Hooke doesn’t have an official community centre. All the local events are held here. This is where everyone comes to . . . come together.”

“That’s what she said,” Daisy says, winking, then immediately rearranges her face into something more befitting the seriousness of the conversation.

“So . . . like . . . I honestly have no idea what I’m trying to say here, but surely it benefits the entire village to keep the pub . . . pubbing.”

“That’s exactly what I told him! But he won’t hear it.” She slaps both hands to her hips like she’s bloody sick of it all. “He might listen to you, though. You just have to find the perfect moment.”

I mull this over for a second. “Or . . . we organise something and don’t tell him until—”

Daisy gets right up in my face. Leans across the bar in the foot-wide gap between the cider and beer taps, hands bracing herself on the rubber drip mat. “Mathias Jones, you’re a devious bastard. I love it. Let’s form a secret alliance. Between you and me, I reckon we could figure this shit out. Also, Molly’ll be coming home in like a month—after her exams—and she’s genius smart. And Lando will wanna help too. I mean, he’ll hinder us more than anything, but his family name has a lot of weight around here.”

“What are you two gossiping about?” says an Argentinian accent from right beside my other ear.

“Noth—” I start to say, but Daisy cuts me off.

“We’re arranging a secret summer fair to raise money for the roof, but you can’t tell Dad.”

“Ooh, community espionage. Count us in,” Tom says.

I turn to Bryn.

“For real. Let us know how we can help. I’ll rally the troops,” he says.

“You guys should sort out the raffle,” Daisy says.

I’m on my feet. “Woah, no, I think we’re getting too far ahead of ourselves. It was a stupid throwaway idea, and I need to do more research.” A lot more research.

“Bit cosy in here, isn’t it?” Owen says, appearing from absolutely nowhere and making us all jump. “Why are you all looking so guilty?” He nudges his way between Tom and me and places a warm, possessive palm against my spine.

Nobody answers him, which makes us look even more suspicious.

---