Daisies for Daisy
Daisy! Havent you ironed my dress yet? And who asked you to tidy my room? Now I cant find anything! the sharp voice of her granddaughter jolts Daisy Bennett awake, making her flinch in her rocking chair.
She rises wearily, shuffling toward the living room.
Youre nothing but trouble! Why did you iron this blouse? Its supposed to look wrinkled! Honestly! Im late, and its all your fault! Charlotte storms around the flat, tossing clothes and muttering as she goes.
Standing in the doorway, Daisy clutches her hands to her chest, guilt filling her pale blue eyes as she watches Charlotte.
Im sorry, darling I didnt know I was only trying to help
Charlotte halts just long enough to look her grandmother up and down, her beautiful face twisted in irritation and disdain.
Dads right youre useless now, just a burden. A care home would suit you well. Its where you belong, with the rest who have lost their marbles.
Slamming the bathroom door, Charlotte disappears. Daisy stands there, paling, desperately holding back tears.
Half an hour later, her granddaughter rushes off to university, leaving the flat finally silent.
Once upon a time, Daisy had her own place. Just five years ago. Then her daughter and son-in-law decided to start a business they needed money. Her daughter sang her sweet promises: Life will be wonderful with us, Mum, weve got a split-level flat, plenty of space for everyone.
Daisy signed the papers and moved in.
Gradually, she had every household duty piled onto her shoulders, never acknowledged, simply expected.
And now a care home…
Her heart contracts painfully and her breathing falters. She sits down shakily, fumbling for her pills.
Come on, old dear, can you move any slower? Got a whole queue behind you! Have you nodded off or what? The cashiers harsh tone drags Daisy from her thoughts.
A sloppily-dressed girl with stringy, peeled-nail fingers taps impatiently at the till.
Good grief, you lot drive me mad, she grumbles. Why dont you stay in and stop bothering the rest of us?
Embarrassed and humiliated, Daisy hurriedly unloads her groceries.
Stepping out into the street, she feels as though a bucket of rubbish has been dumped over her. Senile is that what she is? Shes only sixty.
Shes always been one of those women who wears her age gracefully: slender, her silver hair tied up neatly, her blue eyes clear.
And yet, this is how people treat her now.
She drifts along the avenue, head bowed, when she hears:
Daisy, is that you?
She turns, startled and freezes.
Archie? Is it really you?
Standing before her is a spry old gentleman in a luxurious cashmere coat.
My word, youre just as lovely as you were forty-three years ago How wonderful to see you.
Its Archie Redford her childhood sweetheart, first day of primary school. Back then, he would bring her bunches of daisies and call her Daisy Daisy. Shed call him Archie Daisy in return.
They were inseparable till Year 11, when Archies family moved to the north. Letters arrived less and less often and then one day, not at all.
Daisy studied art history, married, and had a daughter. Her husband was an inspired architect. She counted herself fortunate.
But he died at fifty, leaving her alone.
And heres Archie, standing right in front of her.
Ive been following you for a hundred yards I couldnt believe it was you, he says, hugging her. Im so glad so glad…
The tea goes cold as they talk and talk, laughter mingling with their memories as if the past forty-three years never happened.
A vase full of daisies sits on the kitchen table. Daisy absentmindedly strokes the soft white petals.
Daisy, I live abroad these days, run my own business. My sons in America. I finally decided to come home and what luck, running into you, Archie holds her hand and smiles.
She returns home late, starts dinner, glancing at her daisies every now and then. For the first time in years, she smiles.
They promise to visit his cottage in the countryside over the weekend it belonged to his aunt.
How lucky they found each other again…
Now Daisy Bennett sits on a bench in the garden of the care home.
Shes done crying. The IV treatments have made her a touch stronger, but the pain in her chest wont leave.
The home is comfortable, set in pretty surroundings, but happiness feels very far away.
Her daughters husband brought her here. Not a word. Her daughter and granddaughter jetted off on holiday perhaps to avoid any awkwardness.
She cant leave. She didnt say goodbye to Archie his phone remains silent.
Three months have passed.
Its a grey, drizzly autumn. Theres been winter in her soul for some time now.
Her daughter seems to have forgotten her.
And as for Archie he never came back.
Perhaps he left?
Why no farewell?
Shes frightened by the questions swirling inside.
A knock at the door. The nurse pops her head round:
Theres someone to see you.
Daisy makes her way downstairs and finds a young man she doesnt know.
Are you Daisy Bennett?
Yes Why?
Im a solicitor. Ive been trying to find you for months, on behalf of Mr. Archibald Redford.
Archie?.. Why didnt he come himself?
Her knees buckle and she slumps into a chair.
The solicitor sits beside her, opening a folder.
Im afraid Mr. Redford passed away two months ago. He left these papers and a letter for you.
Rain drums harder against the windows.
For a long time, Daisy cannot bring herself to break the wax seal. At last, she opens it.
She weeps.
My dearest Daisy…
If youre reading this, then Im already gone.
I didnt want to darken our reunion. I came back home to die final stage of cancer. Doctors gave me two months. I dreamt of spending them by your side.
But it got worse, and I was hospitalised. I didnt want you to see me like that.
Better you remember me well.
Ive loved you my whole life. Its a pity we couldnt overcome the barriers when we were young. Youll always be my Daisy Daisy.
I know things are strained with your daughter… I want you to be happy and never dependent on anyone.
Enclosed are the deeds to my countryside cottage. Its my gift to you. Dont you dare refuse.
And plant lots of daisies there.
All my love,
Your Archie Daisy.
That night, the rain weeps along with her.
A year passes.
A bright yellow cab pulls up at the churchyard.
Out steps a slender, elderly woman with an enormous bouquet of daisies.
The groundsmen know her well by now; theyre used to those daisies.
She walks the winding path, autumn leaves whispering underfoot.
At the old maple, she pauses, lays the daisies on his stone, sits on the bench, and smiles softly.
Hello again, Archie Daisy its meFor a while, Daisy sits in companionable silence, listening to the wind threading through the golden leaves. In the hush, she feels Archie beside hernot as a memory, but as warmth in her chest.
She closes her eyes, breathes in the bittersweet tang of autumn, and lets herself recall the laughter in the tearoom, the rustle of daisies in her hand, the hope that once returned with an old friends smile.
Later, she stands, tucks a stray petal behind her ear, and straightens her back. There are seeds in her pockettiny, white daisy seeds, ready to root in good earth. The old cottage waits, sunlit and wild, longing for laughter and life again.
As the taxi heads homeward, Daisy looks out at the golden countryside. She imagines spring: a garden grown riotous with daisies, wind chimes ringing, childrens voices carried on the breezethe possibility of new beginnings, even now. Her heart, stitched together with memory and loss and love, pulses with promise.
She smiles out the window, letting the past and present merge into something gentle and bright. And for the first time in years, Daisy feels she truly belongs where she’s headedwhere the daisies will always bloom for her.
