was looking from Torin to Elsie and back like an overexcited Wimbledon spectator.
Elsie closed her eyes. ‘Please go away.’
He laughed – a sound that made all of Elsie’s defences instantly build. ‘Oh come on, you nicked my parking space. At the very least that should win me some gloating rights?’
Daisy nudged her. ‘That seems fair to me, Els.’
Elsie stared at her sister. ‘Thanks for nothing.’
Surprised, Torin held his hand out to Daisy. ‘Thank you. I’m Torin Stewart.’
‘Daisy Maynard. I’m Elsie’s sister.’
They shook hands, Torin holding Daisy’s for a moment longer than she was expecting.
‘Ah, a pleasure to meet another of the Maynard clan,’ he said, glancing sideways at Elsie. ‘Especially a polite one.’
Daisy ignored the muttered remark from Elsie and smiled back at Torin. ‘Oh, Elsie’s usually the picture of politeness. I guess there must be something about you that brings out her bad side.’
‘Oh and I expect you know all about that, being her sister?’
‘You’d be amazed at the stories I could tell you …’
They’re enjoying this, Elsie moaned to herself, they’re both flipping enjoying it. ‘Pleasant though this attack on my character is for both of you, we really should be going.’
Daisy shook her head. ‘No hurry, hun.’ She smiled her famous Daisy Maynard Smile™ at Torin – the one that had set many a man on a course towards heartbreak over the years – and Elsie knew this was far from over. ‘Actually, we were thinking of having a coffee before we head home. Don’t suppose we could tempt you to join us? As our way of apologising for the car park incident?’
Torin looked at Elsie, who averted her eyes. Right now all she wanted was to leave as soon as she could. Her expression must have betrayed her true feelings because, quite unexpectedly, Torin declined.
‘I’d love to, but I’m on a bit of a tight schedule. It was good to meet you, Daisy. Elsie, nice to see you again. I hope you find everything you’re looking for. Good evening.’
Elsie watched him walk away and, for the second time in as many weeks, felt the small pang of conscience in her stomach. Shaking it away, she faced Daisy.
‘Thanks for the help there, sis.’
‘I’m sorry, he just seemed like a really nice guy. I was trying to be polite … Oh, don’t look at me like that. It was an awkward situation and I thought maybe if we all sat down over coffee it might be a little less so.’
‘Believe me, it would have been a hundred times worse. He is the most arrogant, jumped-up individual I’ve ever had the misfortune to run into. Twice now.’
Daisy nudged Elsie’s arm. ‘My mistake, lovely. He did seem to be a little too pleased with himself, now you mention it. Let’s pay for this contraband and get the heck out of here, shall we?’
Two days later, Jim called Elsie at work and asked her to meet him at his house for tea. Always a fan of a Dad-cooked meal, Elsie was happy to oblige, heading straight over when her workday ended.
The most delicious aroma of cinnamon, onions, rosemary and pomegranate filled the kitchen when Elsie entered. In the middle of an industrious cloud of steam, Jim emerged, carrying a huge earthenware tagine.
‘We’re going Moroccan tonight!’ he announced, holding the pot aloft as if it was a sporting trophy. ‘There’s a bowl of couscous on the counter and a nice bottle of Chilean red. Be a dear and bring them over, would you?’
‘It smells amazing, Dad. New recipe?’
Jim set two places at the table and accepted a glass of wine from her. ‘Yep. Excellent Moroccan cookbook I bought from that second-hand bookshop café Olly loves so much. In fact, I was having coffee with him when he spotted it.’ His awful attempt at slipping this into the conversation made Elsie giggle.
‘Dad. That was terrible.’
Jim’s face fell. ‘I thought I was being subtle.’
‘No offence, but perhaps you’d better stick to cooking?’
‘Point taken. Sit, sit! We should have this while it’s hot. Preserved lemon? Found these in a wonderful deli that’s opened near the Theatre Royal.’
‘You’re such a foodie.’
Pleased by this, Jim winked at her. ‘Next stop MasterChef, eh?’ He served the aromatic vegetable stew and handed her a multi-coloured plate. ‘Now, tell me what you think.’
It was wonderful – warm, spicy flavours that made Elsie’s palate tingle and reminded her of a holiday they had taken to Marrakech when she was fourteen, Jim determined that his daughters should have every opportunity to visit new and exciting cultures. She could still remember his brave but ultimately fruitless attempts at bartering over a rug in the souk, as the sights, sounds and smells of the bustling market laid siege to their senses.
She had to hand it to Jim: he was a tremendous cook. But more than the chance to sample his excellent food, Elsie relished the opportunity to spend time with her father. The past two years of her life had often demanded her attention to the point where she had neglected time with her family; only now was she feeling like she was reclaiming some of it. Growing up as one of three siblings, with the added complication of her mother’s absence, time alone with her father had always been invaluable; even now, as each of the Maynard sisters lived out their lives, Jim’s time was divided. A fair man in everything, he tried to give each of them an equal portion of his attention, although Guin’s impending motherhood meant this was likely to change soon.
‘So what was it you wanted to tell me?’ Elsie asked, when the meal was over and they were sitting in the comfortable lounge watching soft candlelight bathe the walls from the collection of oil burners and pillar candles on the coffee table. Patchouli and lavender incense pervaded the air and Jim’s favourite Bollywood chill-out album provided an exotic soundtrack.
‘Ah yes. It’s very exciting. You know that I’m on the Traders’ Association committee for the Brighton Carnival this year?’
Elsie didn’t, but this was nothing new. Jim was nothing if not committed to his town.
‘Well, I am. Never learn, will I? Anyway, the point is, we were discussing community music for the street stage we’re sponsoring and I suggested your choir! I told them how much of a community endeavour it’s going to be, and they thought it was a fantastic idea! What do you think?’
‘I think it’s great, Dad, but don’t you think it might be better to wait and hear the choir we put together before you start booking us?’
‘It’s not till July, so there’s plenty of time to prepare for it.’ Jim hugged her. ‘I have every faith in you.’
Whether or not the choir would be able to take up Jim’s offer, Elsie was encouraged by the vote
