Coming Home to Ottercombe Bay: The laugh out loud romantic comedy of the year. Bella Osborne
going to let on to her discomfort.
‘Well, Reg loved him and Reg loved you. It kind of makes you related,’ said Tamsyn, settling herself down.
Daisy shot bolt upright. ‘No, it doesn’t.’ She shook her head at the ridiculous suggestion. ‘I am not related to a bloody pug.’
‘I think you’re in denial,’ said Tamsyn shutting her eyes.
Daisy opened her mouth to argue further but realising it was pointless she shook her head and lay back down, a little more gently this time.
‘I hear you met Jason last night,’ said Tamsyn.
‘Is there some sort of live feed or webcam I don’t know about? Or am I actually part of a TV programme like The Truman Show – The Daisy Wickens Show?’ She was amazed how everyone seemed to know what was going on almost before it had happened. This was the problem with small towns. To the untrained eye, Ottercombe Bay probably seemed an average-sized town but take out all the holiday lets, all the camp sites, the second homers and day trippers and the core of locals was actually a lot smaller. It was most definitely a village and a peculiar one at that.
‘No, silly,’ giggled Tamsyn. ‘There’s a hole in the wall between our cottages.’
‘What?’ Daisy was outraged and found she was covering her precious areas with her hands.
‘Only kidding, but you should have seen your face. No, Jason told me he’d seen you.’
Daisy heaved a sigh of relief. It wouldn’t have surprised her if there were a hole in the wall. She gave up on lying down and sat up. ‘Are you and Jason together?’
Tamsyn gave a tinny laugh. ‘Noooo, he’s not my type. Too geeky.’
Daisy scrunched her face up. Given Tamsyn’s interesting dress sense and love of fantasy novels she thought perhaps she shouldn’t be throwing stones at someone else’s glass house. ‘Okay, who would be your type?’
Tamsyn’s gaze drifted off to sea. Daisy was moments away from waving a hand in front of her face when she eventually spoke. ‘I like my men beefy and broad shouldered. Intelligent but not geeky. Romantic, kind and caring, like Flynn Rider.’
‘The cartoon character?’ queried Daisy, although she wasn’t sure why this should be a surprise to her.
‘Yes, he’s perfect and Tangled is my favourite film ever.’
‘Okay, anything else?’
‘Someone who likes the same things I do, like fantasy novels, vintage, dragons, crafting, pineapples and buttons. And they have to be an animal lover.’ She shot Daisy a withering look.
‘That’s some list. You found anyone who fits your criteria?’
‘Not yet. How about you?’
Daisy felt uncomfortable, she wasn’t big on sharing at the best of times. ‘Nope, no one.’
‘Oh, come on, there must have been someone in the last zillion years. Don’t fob me off. All those trips abroad to exotic destinations full of hotties, there must have been a few.’
Daisy admired Tamsyn’s tenacity. ‘There was one guy.’
‘Only one?’ Tamsyn tilted her head. ‘You guard your heart like a dragon guards its hoard.’
Daisy was momentarily stunned by Tamsyn’s profound insight. ‘Anyway … I meant only one serious one. His name was Guillaume.’
‘Gee-om?’ mimicked Tamsyn with a titter. ‘How do you spell it?’
‘Trust me that won’t help you. He was very French, olive skinned and utterly gorgeous.’
Tamsyn bore the expression of the perpetually bewildered. ‘Was his skin like black or green olives?’
‘Neither,’ said Daisy with a chuckle. ‘It’s a warm tone, like having a good tan.’
‘Okay.’ Tamsyn still looked perplexed but she settled down for the story anyway. ‘What went wrong?’
‘We rowed a lot. Mainly about money. He was a huge risk taker. We had a good thing going in France and we lost the lot because of his stupid get-rich-quick schemes.’ Daisy’s voice was tinged with temper.
‘But now Reg has left you some money, could you try again with Gee-womb?’
Daisy was already shaking her head. ‘No. I couldn’t trust him not to blow every penny. I’m better off on my own.’ She knew this was true, but she also knew it wasn’t that simple. Guillaume had hurt her greatly. It was rare that Daisy let down the barriers she had erected around her heart but she’d let him march in and he’d torn it to shreds. ‘Anyway, I like being on my own.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ said Tamsyn bluntly. Daisy looked taken aback. ‘I mean, you must miss your parents.’
Daisy felt uneasy and pulled in a steadying breath. ‘Dad and I keep in touch. He seems happier in Goa. A little more at peace than he ever was in the UK. And of course, I miss Mum every day.’ Daisy thumbed her locket. She couldn’t begin to explain the emotions just thinking about her mother trawled up.
Tamsyn patted her leg. ‘Your mum was lovely. It was sad she died. Such an awful accident.’
Daisy swallowed. This was a subject she was uncomfortable discussing but she couldn’t let Tamsyn’s comment go unchallenged. ‘But we don’t know it was an accident.’
Tamsyn became animated. ‘You don’t believe the rumours that your dad killed her, do you?’
‘No,’ said Daisy. She was shocked by the statement, even though she was familiar with the rumours. Despite his best efforts, the suspicions had still reached her and she knew it was one of the main reasons they had left the area a few months after her mother’s death, just before her eighth birthday. ‘But someone else could have caused her death. We know she drowned but not how exactly. The inquest was an open verdict.’ This still haunted Daisy.
Tamsyn bit her lip as if considering her next sentence. ‘Or it could have been suicide.’
Daisy shook her head. This was an idea too awful to entertain. ‘But why? Why would she kill herself? She had people who loved her. Dad said she was the happiest person he knew.’ And she had me, she thought, how could she have left me? Daisy concentrated hard to keep control of the emotions starting to bubble inside.
Sadness clouded Tamsyn’s face. ‘I guess we’ll never know,’ she said, giving Daisy’s leg another pat.
Daisy paused for a moment while she considered something. She liked Tamsyn and she was beginning to feel she could trust her. She undid the clasp on the chain of her locket and handed it to Tamsyn. ‘I think this holds the key.’
‘There’s an actual key inside?’ Tamsyn’s eyes were wide like Bugsy’s.
‘No, I think it holds the clue to what happened to my mother.’
‘Is there a message engraved on it or a note inside?’ Tamsyn studied the locket closely.
‘No, there’s no message.’ Sometimes Tamsyn was hard work. ‘It was with my mother’s effects when the police handed them over. Dad has always maintained he’d never seen it before and even tried to give it back to the police but they insisted it was hers.’
‘So who’s right?’ asked Tamsyn.
‘I don’t know, but if my mother had it with her the night she died then I believe it holds the answer to what happened.’
When Saturday morning dawned Daisy wasn’t entirely sure how she had been roped