Chasing Daisy

when I finally do, I make to leave the kitchen.
    ‘Where are you going, now?’ Frederick demands to know.
    ‘I, er, just have to go and see Will for a minute,’ I stutter.
    ‘Those dishes aren’t going to wash themselves,’ he snaps.
    ‘No, I’m sorry, I won’t be long.’ I look at him anxiously, but he turns away. He’s obviously been noticing my recent disappearing acts.
    I walk out just in time to see Will going up the stairs. I hurry after him, glancing around me to see Laura sitting at a table with Catalina. I hope she doesn’t follow him up. I knock on his door and don’t wait for him to tell me to enter before pushing it open.
    ‘Is she staying with you? At the hotel?’ I barely have time to close the door before I start my interrogation.
    ‘Hi!’ He looks startled.
    ‘Just tell me, Will. Is she staying with you?’
    He looks uncomfortable. ‘She is staying at the hotel, yes.’
    ‘In your room?’
    He hesitates before answering. ‘Yes. But we’re not sleeping together.’
    ‘Oh, God.’ I feel overwrought. I want to cry. I turn to walk out.
    ‘Daisy, wait!’ He gets up and puts his hand on the door, blocking my exit. ‘It’s not like that.’
    ‘Yes, I know, Will, you’re just keeping up appearances. Well, to hell with that! Sorry, but this is too hard!’ I try to turn the handle,
    but he blocks me again.
    ‘Please. It’s only for this race. She won’t come to any more.’
    ‘I have to go,’ I say dully. ‘I have to get back to work.’
    ‘Stay for a minute,’ he begs, putting his hand on my arm. I can’t look at him.
    ‘No. Frederick’s getting annoyed with me.’
    ‘Is he?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Okay.’ He lets go of my arm and I walk out, feeling even worse than I did when I walked in.
    I refuse to go out that night, preferring to stay in my hotel room and torture myself with my thoughts instead. It’s the night of Laura’s charity do, and everyone who’s anyone is going. Holly is furious because Simon is attending it with Catalina. Not that she’s telling me that, mind. She’s out drowning her sorrows with Pete and the lads. The next morning, both of us are in horrible moods when we arrive at the track. It’s Saturday, the day for qualifying, and a huge turnout is expected in Will’s honour.
    I’m outside at the serving table when Will and Laura appear together. I’m guessing he gave her a lift into the track from the hotel. He flashes me an awkward glance, then stops to talk to Simon at a nearby table. A moment later he turns around to speak to a man and a woman who walked in the door behind him. He says something to them and points in my direction, then pulls up a chair at Simon’s table. Laura leads them my way and they’re almost upon me before I realise they could be Will’s parents.
    They appear to be in their late fifties and are both wearing smart tweed suits with pristine white shirts. The woman has a matching tweed hat.
    ‘Good morning,’ I say brightly, hoping to make a good impression.
    Neither of them answer, but the woman looks me up and down, disdainfully.
    ‘Hello,’ Laura says to me. ‘Daisy, isn’t it?’
    ‘Yes,’ I reply, taken aback. I don’t want her to be nice enough to remember my name.
    She turns to the woman. ‘What would you like?’
    ‘I’ll take a tea,’ she replies, in an upper-crust British accent.
    ‘Mr Trust?’ Laura asks. Doesn’t she even call them by their first names?
    ‘Yes, that’ll do.’ His tone is curt.
    ‘Three teas, please,’ Laura says to me, forcing a smile. She looks as uncomfortable as I feel. Considering she’s known Will’s parents most of her life, I don’t fancy my chances much.
    I pick up the teapot and begin pouring the tea, before remembering to ask if they take milk.
    ‘Start again,’ Will’s mother insists, glaring at the half-full teacups in front of her.
    ‘Sorry,’ I mutter, feeling my face heat up as Laura fidgets with her gold bracelet in front of me. I wonder if Will bought it for her? Trying not to be distracted by that thought, I put the spoiled cups to one side and pour in a little milk before adding the tea this time. I pass them over, aware that my hands are shaking.
    Will’s mother glances at Laura and a small smile forms on her lips. I’m about to breathe a sigh of relief when she says, ‘One couldn’t expect an American to make a decent cup of tea, could one?’
    Laura smiles awkwardly and leads them away, giving me a sympathetic look over her