Staying at Daisy's

Staying at Daisy's by Jill Mansell Page A

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Authors: Jill Mansell
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glass hadn’t shattered.
    ‘Of course I lied. What would you have done in my situation?’ He kept his voice low.
    OK, thought Tara, fair enough.
    ‘So you didn’t mean all those things you said?’
    ‘I didn’t mean for this to bloody happen! Christ, I can’t believe it, this is my fucking wedding day.’
    Tara took a deep breath. ‘Do you still want to marry Annabel?’
    He turned and looked at her as if she were a bag lady. ‘What? Are you mad ? Of course I want to marry her! But she’s upstairs, having a complete head fit and refusing to marry me… Jesus, what have I done to deserve this? It’s so fucking unfair.’

Chapter 7
    Tara’s least favorite person in the world opened the door to the Bellingham Suite. Actually, Tara decided, Dominic was her number one least favorite person. But Jeannie had to be number two.
    ‘Oh God, I don’t believe it. What is this, some kind of sick joke?’ Jeannie, who was smoking a cigarette, exhaled a long stream of smoke right into Tara’s face.
    ‘I’d like to talk to Annabel.’ It was a lie, of course; there was no question of liking it, but Tara pressed on regardless. ‘Alone. Please.’
    ‘Oh, this is too much. You seriously think my sister would want to talk to you?’
    ‘Look, could you just ask her?’
    ‘Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage?’ Jeannie snapped.
    Tara swallowed, red-faced with shame. ‘Yes, I do. That’s why I’m here now.’
    The door was abruptly slammed shut in her face. Tara heard a lot of furious whispering inside the room. Moments later the door swung open again. Without looking at her, Jeannie and a middle-aged woman in a vast purple mother-of-the-bride outfit marched out.
    ‘Five minutes,’ Jeannie hissed as she passed Tara in a rustle of apricot satin. ‘Then,’ she warned, like Schwarzenegger only scarier, ‘we’ll be back.’
    Annabel, her blonde hair still fastened up in an elaborate chignon, was sitting rigidly on the window seat wrapped in one of the hotel’s white terry cloth robes. Her wedding dress lay in a crumpled heap on the four-poster bed. She looked at Tara as if she were a dentist arriving to rip out all her teeth.
    ‘Well?’ Annabel demanded without preamble. ‘What happened?’
    Tara took a deep shuddering breath. ‘I’m sorry. It was all my fault and I’m so ashamed. Seeing Dominic again after all this time was too much for me. I just couldn’t cope with the fact that he was marrying someone else and I threw myself at him. It was a mad thing to do and I don’t expect you to forgive me but please, you have to forgive him. You can’t call off the wedding. He told me how much he loved you. I’m just so sorry I caused all this trouble. You have to marry him. It wasn’t his fault, it was mine.’ There. Who said she wasn’t an actress?
    Tara waited miserably for the other girl’s reaction.
    A single tear rolled down Annabel’s cheek. ‘Really?’ It came out as a whisper. Her fingers were agitatedly winding the belt of her terry cloth robe around her knuckles, above which glittered a hefty emerald and diamond engagement ring. ‘Is that the truth?’ There was hope in her eyes.
    Tara nodded. ‘It was me. All me. I just… lost control, I suppose. And I’m sorry.’ Pause. ‘But he really does want to marry you.’
    Another tear slid down Annabel’s made-up face. Instinctively Tara ripped a couple of tissues from the box on the coffee table in front of her and crossed the room with them. ‘Here, don’t wreck your makeup.’
    ‘Thanks. For the tissues, I mean.’ Annabel jerkily dabbed beneath her eyes. ‘I’m not going to thank you for telling me you threw yourself at my boyfriend.’
    But it’s what you wanted to hear, thought Tara, because you thought he might have been the one up to no good. Who knows, maybe Dominic’s done this kind of thing before. But you don’t completely trust him, do you?
    God, was she doing the right thing here? Should she be lying to this girl,

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