Page 1 of The Life Daisy Devlin Designed
CHAPTER 1
“Right, we have to win this year.” Daisy Devlin marched into the office of Discerning Designs shortly after 8 o’clock, and put a cardboard tray with three takeout coffees on her desk. She turned to the other two. “You do know what day this is?”
Laura unfolded herself from behind her desk and crossed the room, her heels echoing lightly on the wooden floor in the high-ceilinged, open space, and picked up the two Americanos.
“It’s Monday, babes.” She perched herself neatly on the edge of Fionn’s desk, and handed one of the coffees to him. “You probably should have taken the day off to recover, Daisy. Weren’t you down in Galway minding your sister’s twenty kids at the weekend?” She gave a dramatic shudder.
Daisy picked up her flat white. “Four kids, Laura. And my parents were the ones minding them.” Although Rosie had rung at least twice a day to check up on them. Her sister was a total control freak.
“Hmm.” Laura rolled her eyes. “All I’m saying is you’ll be at least partly to blame if Rosie’s family is bigger in nine months’ time.”
That didn’t bear thinking about. Daisy sat down at her desk and turned to their intern. “What dayis it? Get the answer right, and I’ll do your coffee round tomorrow.”
Fionn grinned. “First, can I say you arekillingthat whole fifties look? But I’m going to be cheeky and say stop playing it safe with navy pumps. Go for killer heels in bright orange – they’ll pick up those flecks in your outfit.”
Daisy examined the tiny flowers in the full skirt of her vintage navy dress.
“Orange shoes, Fionn?” Laura shook her head. “How do we even let you answer the phone?”
Daisy and Fionn ignored her.
“Secondly,” Fionn continued, “I know the answer because it’s on my calendar. Submissions to the Interior Architect of the Year Awards open today.”
“Exactly.” Daisy took a gulp of coffee, wincing as it burned her throat. She looked at Laura. “So?”
Laura flicked a thread from her immaculate cream trouser suit. “So, I don’t think any of my projects this year would be suitable.” She pulled a face. “I finished those two commercial ones and then that awful one for Mr and Mrs Three-bed Semi.”
Daisy took a floral scrunchie out of her skirt pocket and pulled her thick, red hair into a high ponytail. “Stop being such a snob! I’d kill to live in a three-bed semi.”
“Yes, but you wouldn’t insist on having Grecian columns in your kitchen extension.” Laura tutted. “There should be a law that says if you’ve no taste, you shouldn’t be allowed to make a fool of yourself.”
Daisy and Fionn exchanged a grin.
“Anyway,” Laura was brisk now, “I’ve nothing I can enter. So unless some amazing project lands in my lap this week, and I manage by some miracle to get it finished in three months’ time, I’ll have to wait until next year.”
“You can submit once you can guarantee it’ll be finished by the judging date.” Fionn finished his coffee and dropped the cup in the bin beside his desk.
“Still not holding my breath!” Laura sighed and turned to Daisy. “What about you?”
Daisy switched on her laptop and monitor. “My best bet is Freya’s place. It’ll be a stunning family home when it’s finished.”
Laura wrinkled her nose. “I thought she and her husband said they didn’t want the house featured.”
“It’s a privacy thing, and they’re worried about security.” Daisy looked thoughtful. “But I’ve managed to persuade clients to change their minds before …”
Fionn cleared his throat. “Will we tell her the news, Laura?”
“Ah, yes.” Laura ran a hand over her smooth, pale hair, which was secured in a messy low-knot. “Granary House has been sold.”
“What?” Daisy sat bolt upright. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, it’s all here.” Fionn gestured towards his monitor.
“Read what it says.”
“It’s all stuff you know already, I think.” Fionn clicked his pen on and off, stopping when Laura glared at him. “‘One of the oldest houses in County Wicklow to come to the market in recent years ... sits on four acres of land … includes a walled kitchen garden and orchard … was run until two years ago as a guest house ...’ Doesn’t say who bought it.”
“I can’t believe it’s finally been sold!” Daisy finished her coffee, half wishing she’d bought a pastry but, as Laura was a health nut, who did Pilates three times a week and the Clontarf park run every Saturday morning, and Fionn seemed to live on air, she always felt a bit uncomfortable eating sugary foods around them. “It needs a lot of work, but structurally it’s perfect, and the Georgian proportions are amazing.”
