Page 79 of The Life Daisy Devlin Designed
“Sorry, the line dropped for a moment.Er, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to ask if you know any occupational therapists here in Dublin? Or even near Dublin?”
There was a silence. “Why?” Rosie said, finally.
“A friend of mine asked me to ask you,” Daisy said. “Well, not a friend, she’s actually a client. She wants to go private and doesn’t want to have to wait – well, actually, I think she’senquiring for someone else but I don’t know who. She’s very – eh – private.”
“Whoever it is needs a referral from a doctor.” Rosie sounded brisk. “Would it be for an older person, do you think?”
“No idea. But normally it would be, right?”
“Not necessarily. It could be a young person who’s been in an accident, although in that case they’d be assessed in hospital.” Rosie paused. “But it could be a child. Lots of kids are referred to OTs for diagnoses.”
“Diagnoses?”
“A good OT can diagnose everything from developmental delays to dyslexia to autism.”
It was Holly, Daisy thought, with a flash of insight. It was probably why Freya always seemed so worried about her, why she seemed to miss so much school.
And why Freya wanted her in her own room, close to her and Neil. She’d bet it was why the couple had been through so many childminders.
“Yeah, it might be a child,” she said.
“Then she’d need a paediatric OT.”
Like Rosie, Daisy thought. Except Rosie lived on the far side of the country, and was currently on career leave.
“How’s work going on Granary House?”
Daisy was a bit surprised. Rosie never remembered specific details about her work. Although her sister was probably less interested in the house than its owner.
“Um, fine. We’re having to do the house and gardens pretty quickly because the grounds are going to be used all summer.”
“What’s it like having Kayley Lynch around?” Rosie said. “Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t be mad about her music, but you’d feel a bit sorry for her. Nothing would pay you for the abuse she’s getting online.”
“I suppose so.” Daisy was about to add that Kayley was a pain in the arse, but stopped herself in time. Rosie was right: nobody deserved it.
“Anyway, I’m glad you’re nearly finished,” Rosie was saying. “The longer you hang around Matt, the more danger you’re putting yourself in.”
Technically, that boat hadn’t set sail, Daisy mused. But it was definitely pulling out of the harbour. “How are plans coming along for Mum and Dad’s anniversary party?” she asked.
“Oh, class. I listened to three bands, and I’ve picked the best one. They’ll play all the stuff Mum and Dad like.”
Daisy half-listened as Rosie went into detail about her music choices.
“Cáit Furey’s younger brother is the lead guitarist,” she said. “So they gave us a good rate.”
Daisy was trying to remember who Cáit Furey was, when Rosie asked about James.
“He’s sick at the moment.” Daisy wondered how much detail to give, but then decided to be honest. As a mother of four, Rosie fancied herself a font of all knowledge about illnesses, and Daisy figured she might have a few tips. “It’s strep – he just got an antibiotic for it.”
“Strep?” Rosie sounded a bit surprised. “Have you had it too? You’d better be careful not to catch it, Daisy, it’s really contagious.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So, how did he get it?” Rosie sounded thoughtful. “Who was I talking to recently, who said they had it?”
God, she shouldn’t have said a word. “No idea. How are the kids?”
“Happy out.” Rosie paused. “Although I might just ask the doctor about Ben when we’re there next. Hedoesseem to throw up a lot. I think he might be allergic to something.”
