Chapter Text
Daisy had felt the eyes burning into her all evening. Ever since she’d come downstairs and appeared in the bar to start her shift. It had been three months and she really thought the novelty of being the new girl might have died down by now.
Because at first that’s all it was. A novelty. No one said anything horrible, quite the contrary. Everyone in Glemsford was perfectly friendly and welcoming to her and her family. They were the new Publicans who had taken over the dilapidated Red Lion, thrown a lick of paint on the walls, fixed up some outside heating and given the villagers a new watering hole.
But now a few months in and most of her somewhat dysfunctional family had well and truly become part of the village furniture. Fiona had joined the WI Mafia and spent her Sunday mornings helping out at the church, served tea and cakes after the morning sermon. Steve had already made some friends and even attended a few football games in Ipswich, a town at least a one-hour drive from quiet, little Glemsford. Daisy still hadn’t gone further than Big Tesco, just twenty minutes away on the bus.
Daisy knew she didn’t look like your typical village girl. She’d probably have to buy a pair of wellies at some point, and a decent waterproof come the winter months. But for now, she was holding onto her identity as much as possible. She had wondered several times if she was just being paranoid. Maybe having become so attuned in the first few days of not even being able to go and get the morning paper without people literally stopping in the street to get a look at her. Most people would talk, the women mainly. They weren’t afraid to approach her to coo into the pushchair and ask a multitude of questions she considered quite personal seeing that she didn’t know them. How old was she? Was she married? Where’s the Dad? Yes, complete strangers asked her that question.
She supposed you didn’t get many single Mum’s in a village like Glemsford. A small Suffolk village, just on the Essex border. It wasn’t totally remote, a bus passed through every half an hour with links to Bury St Edmund's and Sudbury. Neighbouring villages would be walkable on a nice day. If you wanted to risk the country roads or don some hiking boots and trek across some fields. It was a pretty place, home to a handful of houses, a primary school, church, post office come village store, and no less than three pubs.
The Red Lion was the most central of all the pubs, and since the grand reopening a few months ago it had established a decent group of regulars. They were also the only pub to serve food more substantial than chips and sandwiches, which was a plus. Their Sunday Roast had become something of a talking point amongst the villagers and so far, every single Sunday since they’d been open, there hadn’t been a free table in the house.
Daisy had never minded working the bar. Back where she was from she was what you’d expect of the typical barmaid. She’d been collecting glasses from tables ever since she turned fourteen and went into the care of Fiona and Steve. She was the first child they’d ever fostered, and she loved that they gave her pocket money for helping in the pub. At eighteen she was pulling pints and flirting with the locals.
She didn’t blend in here though and this Saturday night seemed worse than normal. She was well aware of the eyes following her around as she tottered two and from the bar, clearing and wiping tables. It seemed like the whole village had come to spend the night in their tiny little pub. Busy wasn’t a problem for her, but the leering drunks were. At the old pub, in the busy seaside town they’d moved from, she wouldn’t have hesitated to give as good as she got, but here it would just draw more attention to herself. So, she kept her head down and kept herself busy.
The reason it was so busy, according to Fiona, was because the son of her friend Diana, who she knew from the WI had just returned home, having been out of the country for a year. Diana had lived in Glemsford all her life, and she had three children. Her only son, despite not actually having lived in the village since he left home at eighteen, was considered a local hero. He worked for the Red Cross and had been doing Humanitarian Aid Work in one of those War-Torn Countries. He was going to be living with his Mum whilst he settled back into ‘normal life’. He and the rest of the village were celebrating his safe return at The Red Lion.
Daisy hadn’t seen him yet, nor did she really care to. But she knew where he was because of the crowds surrounding the table he was at. There was a constant flow of people going over to welcome him home and give him their praise for his heroic actions. She didn’t really understand it herself, she supposed people from Glemsford didn’t really leave Glemsford all that often. But in her eyes, although admirable, there was nothing more heroic about what he’d done, than say adopting a neglected dog from an animal shelter or fostering a child without a home. You don’t do good things for the recognition, you do it because you care. She’d already lost count of the number of people who’d come to the bar to buy a drink for the hero of the hour. He’d have a paid tab to last the entirety of his stay.
“Dais, help me clear some of the glasses, we’re running out,” Fiona called across the bar, and Daisy slipped out to join her foster mum, and brave the crowd. “Excuse us gentleman,” Fiona pushed her way through the scrum to get to the table, and Daisy kept close behind. “We’re just going to make a little room for you,”
“Anything for you love,” A tall fellow who Daisy only knew as Breezy, leered as the two women started collecting glasses. “Ere Daisy Baby,” Daisy rolled her eyes at the nickname their regular Lager and Light drinker had given her. “Bring us a double Jameson’s on ice for our Tommy Boy,” Daisy, hands full of empty glasses, balanced precariously between her fingers looked across the table to where the man of the hour sat. Currently talking to someone next to him, all she could make out from his profile was a head of curly fair hair, slicked back a little with some product, and a bit of scruff adorning his jaw, chin and upper lip. From his sitting position she could make out he was dressed in a hoody which had probably seen better days, and she could see a t-shirt underneath which looked a bit threadbare around the collar. He certainly looked like he’d just spent a year in a war zone. Wow where had that bitchy thought come from?
“The bar’s right over there Breezy,” Daisy tilted her head in the direction of the bar, and didn’t meet the man’s eyes, “This isn’t table service,”
“Dais,” She heard the warning tone in Fiona’s voice.
“What?” Daisy shrugged, and then the man in question ‘Tommy Boy’ turned and shot her a grin.
“Don’t worry darling, I’ll get up in a minute,” He told her, then immediately turned his attention back to his conversation. Contrary to his group of friends, his words were polite his accent finely polished. Likely the result of some public schooling, and higher education. Daisy bit her lip but refused to feel guilty for her rudeness. Do it once, you’ll be doing it for everyone. She fought herself away from the table and jeering lads to make her way back behind the bar. Behind her own wooden barrier of safety.
“That was a bit rude Dais,” Fiona followed her, and placed her own collection of glasses upside down in the washer.
“What? This isn’t a fucking restaurant,” Daisy shot back, “If they want to get Bob Geldof a fucking drink they can come to the bar and get it,”
“Oh Dais,” Fiona let out a laugh, “Reign it in a bit, you’re not making yourself any friends,” She proceeded to fetch a glass of Jameson’s and handed it to Daisy, “Take this over and try to smile,”
“No,” Daisy responded sharply, “I need to check the garden,”
“Do this on your way,” Daisy shot a look back over to the group of men, inconveniently situated right near the door which exited onto the small decked area behind the pub. As expected about four pairs of eyes were on her, she consciously tugged at her skirt, and checked the neckline of her top, before accepting the glass from Fiona.
“I hate you,” She muttered, shoving past and out the bar, strutting back to the table. “Move,” She said simply, as she approached the crowd, receiving a few frowns from the customers, “Double Jameson’s on Ice,” She said loudly, drawing the new boy’s attention back to her. She didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed up and down her body for a second, nor did she miss the slight grimace following his assessment of her. Good she’d prefer that. Most of the men around here viewed like she was on the menu, rather than serving it. “On the house,” She placed it down and slid it across the table with a small push. The man had good reflexes and his hand opened quickly to catch the glass.
“Thanks,” he told her, grimace gone, and his earlier smile returned. She imagined for a moment, under all that hair he’d probably be quite good looking, if he wasn’t like, forty or whatever.
“Don’t she used to it,” She wasn’t sure where the teasing tone, or flirty smile had come from, and immediately regretted it. Making a hasty exit outside to a volume of cheers and wolf whistles from the table behind her. It was the first time since arriving in the village that she’d let her guard slip just a little, and all it had taken was a nice smile from a scruffy man. It had been a mistake, judging by the attention it had received from the man's friends. A mistake she wouldn’t be making again.
A combination of becoming a mother and moving to a new area had knocked her confidence, and her big personality had suffered as a result. She knew Steve and Fiona didn’t see this as a bad thing, they quite liked the new quiet and refined Daisy, she caused them much less trouble. But Daisy struggled to find the positives. Now rather than smile and flirt, the only time she ever spoke to the customers was when they were pissing her off. What had been considered back home as sass, was considered extreme rudeness here. So, to avoid that all together, most of the time she just forced smiles and kept her mouth shut. Not tonight though. Tonight, she’d managed to not only mouth off to the regular with the highest bar tab, but also flirt with the new boy.
The truth was, Daisy was miserable. She’d never felt so alone in her entire life. She knew she still had Fiona and Steve, but they just didn’t get it. They had each other and were used to moving around the country, they’d been running pubs together for over thirty years. Daisy had left the only place she’d ever considered home, and though the place didn’t really hold any sentimental relevance to her, she hadn’t been prepared for quite how much she’d miss it. She didn’t really have any friends back home, most of them had chipped her off the minute she found out she was pregnant, but she knew people. She knew where she stood and how to act. Here she’d completely lost sight of who she was. She couldn’t speak her mind, she couldn’t really go out and meet people because these people just weren’t ‘her kind of people’ and she knew if she really wanted to fade into the background she would need to change the way she dressed. But she was holding back on that for now, because she wasn’t ready to completely let go of herself.
She could have stayed back in Eastbourne. She probably would have got a nice little council flat for her and her baby. But she wanted to stay with Steve and Fiona, they were the closest thing to family that she and her son had. She’d never had a real family growing up, and her foster parents treated her like a daughter and her son like their very own grandchild. There was no way she’d take that away from her child, she wouldn’t wish her old life on him. Even if that meant sacrificing her own happiness.
So, for now, she would have to put up and shut up.