Page 35 of Chasing Daisy


  ‘You seem surprisingly okay about it.’

  ‘I am. I just wish I’d sorted myself out and resigned before my father had a chance to stick his nose in. At least I’m not going back to New York, which is what I’m sure he’s expecting.’

  ‘What will you do?’

  ‘I’m going to look into catering colleges.’

  He stands up, going to his team carry case. I watch, intrigued, as he pulls out a green folder and hands it to me.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘I tried to drop it to you at HQ last week, but you weren’t there.’

  I open it up and pull out application forms for London catering schools. I stare at them, feeling utterly astounded. I can’t believe he went to that effort for me.

  ‘Thank you.’ I look up at him as my eyes fill with tears.

  ‘Hey, don’t get upset.’ He sits down next to me and puts his hand on my back. I stare down at the forms as my stomach is overrun with butterflies.

  ‘What are you doing tonight?’ Luis asks casually.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Will you come for dinner at my house?’

  ‘Your family’s house?’ I double check.

  ‘No, my house, but my family is going to be there. My mum is cooking dinner for us all,’ he explains. ‘I know she’d like to see you again.’

  ‘Does she even remember me?’ I’m pleasantly surprised.

  ‘Oh, yeah. She warned me not to mess you around.’

  My face breaks into a grin. ‘She didn’t?’

  ‘She did.’

  ‘How did she even know . . .’

  ‘That I had the hots for you? Come on, that must’ve been obvious.’

  These are not the words of someone who thinks I’m just a Screwdriver, even I can see that.

  ‘I’d love to come,’ I tell him.

  ‘Cool.’ He smiles at me as the butterflies go into overdrive, but he doesn’t attempt anything. It’s funny how sometimes the second kiss comes so much harder than the first.

  He picks me up in his yellow Ferrari.

  ‘No way,’ I exclaim. ‘You’re really letting me near it?’

  ‘You can drive it, if you like.’

  I burst out laughing. ‘You’d let me behind the wheel of this thing? Are you mad?’

  ‘Why not? Don’t you have a driving licence?’

  ‘Barely. I got driven round in limos when I lived in New York.’

  He rolls his eyes at me and grins. ‘Get in, then.’

  ‘I knew that’d change your mind.’

  ‘No, you can drive it later if you want to.’

  ‘What if I scratch it?’

  ‘Just get in and shut the door,’ he jokily snaps.

  He drives me north out of the city until we reach a small airfield.

  ‘What are we doing here?’ I ask, perplexed.

  ‘You’re not afraid of flying, are you?’

  ‘Luckily, no, otherwise I wouldn’t enjoy my job very much.’

  ‘Good.’

  Twenty minutes later I’m wearing earphones and I’m strapped into the front seat of Luis’s private helicopter. He’s next to me in the pilot’s seat.

  ‘I cannot believe I’m letting you fly me around in this thing,’ I say into my earpiece.

  ‘Just relax and enjoy the ride.’

  He starts up the rotors and moments later we’ve left the ground and are soon swooping over towns and houses far below. I wanted to scream at first, but now I’m just taking in the sights. I’m still stunned that he can fly as well as drive so fast. I wonder what else I don’t know about him.

  His home is a sprawling mansion surrounded by acres of private land. It’s dark now, but the lights around the house are welcoming. Luis sets down the helicopter, switches off the engine and comes around to help me out.

  ‘That was crazy,’ I exclaim.

  ‘Crazy good or crazy bad?’ he checks.

  ‘Crazy amazing. What other surprises have you got lined up for me?’

  ‘No surprises, just family.’

  ‘Come on, then.’

  When he said his family was big, I didn’t know he meant this big. There must be thirty-odd people here, including siblings, cousins and aunts and uncles, not forgetting his parents, of course. It turns out they live in the house along with his teenage sister, Clara, because he’s so rarely here to look after the place. His other brothers and sisters live in the surrounding area and it doesn’t take a genius to work out that Luis is looking after his family very well.

  His mother embraces me in a big hug the second we walk through the door.

  ‘What about me?’ Luis berates her.

  ‘Daisy, first,’ she jokes, before turning to engulf her son in a suffocating squeeze.

  Clara is standing just behind Luis’s father and she smiles shyly at me. ‘Hello,’ I call, after getting a hug from Mr Castro. Clara comes through to kiss my cheeks, but I impulsively give her a hug, too. And that’s the way it goes from then on. I’ve never been hugged so many times by so many people. There is so much warmth in this one enormous room, and I can’t help compare Luis’s family to my own. How I wish I had been raised in surroundings like this. Not in a mansion, you understand, just with people who loved me. And they’re all so proud of Luis. I’ve been swept away by Mrs Castro to meet various members of his family, but I keep looking back and catching glimpses of him laughing and chatting away.

  I wonder how he copes in England when his family are all here. He must miss them. Suddenly I feel bad about saying he lives in that big house in Hampstead, all on his own. He must be lonely.

  ‘And this is my granddaughter, Rosa,’ Mrs Castro says, after introducing me first to Fatima, another one of Luis’s sisters, and then to Fatima’s little baby girl.

  ‘She’s beautiful,’ I say, as Rosa coos and gurgles in Fatima’s arms.

  ‘Would you like to hold her?’

  ‘Um, will she cry?’ I ask hesitantly.

  ‘No, no, she’s as good as gold.’

  Fatima hands her over and, after a moment, I realise the baby isn’t going to scream so I relax. ‘How old is she?’ I ask her mother.

  ‘Just under six months.’

  ‘I think she has Luis’s eyes,’ I comment, looking into the baby’s brown ones.

  ‘Daisy thinks Rosa has your eyes!’ Fatima calls to her brother. Luis glances at me, amused.

  ‘I used to know a Rosa,’ I say to Fatima, handing the baby back. ‘She was an excellent cook.’ I think of Johnny Jefferson’s cook and how she inspired me. I wish I could tell her I’m going to apply to catering college – I know she’d be proud.

  ‘Speaking of cooking, it’s time to serve up!’ Mrs Castro exclaims.

  ‘Can I help with anything?’ I ask her.

  ‘Absolutely not! You’re our star guest. Please go through to the dining room.’ She points to large double doors on the far wall, then turns and shouts in Portuguese to her vast family. Everyone starts to file through to the other room.

  Luis appears by my side. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m good.’ I smile at him. ‘Your family are so lovely.’

  ‘You’re going down pretty well with them, too.’

  As he leads me through to the other room, I suddenly feel very strange. What am I doing here? He’s brought me to meet all his loved ones. That’s so personal and . . . I don’t know, odd? Why would he open himself up to me like that? I’m seeing Luis in a whole new light, here, and it scares me how much I like it.

  Two hours later, he tells his family we have to leave. His mother protests, suggesting we stay the night, but Luis is quite firm in his negative response, which is something I have mixed feelings about. Doesn’t he want to spend the night with me? Then again, the thought of having breakfast with his parents in the morning. . . Well, that’s too much, too soon.

  And so we say our many goodbyes and set off on the short walk to the helicopter. The flight back to the airfield seems to pass more quickly this time arou
nd and, before I know it, he’s parking his Ferrari in the hotel car park.

  I’m on edge. What happens now? I’ve been too busy talking to drink much alcohol, and he’s stone-cold sober, so there will be no drunken antics.

  He glances at me as we walk up the steps into the lobby. ‘Want to come up to my room?’

  I raise one eyebrow at him. ‘For a coffee?’

  ‘I was thinking more along the lines of a shag.’

  I crack up laughing.

  ‘But we can start with a coffee, if you like,’ he adds, his eyes twinkling.

  Inside his suite, he directs me to the sofa area while he gets on with the drinks.

  ‘That was such a nice night, thank you,’ I tell him as he brings two steaming cups over. ‘I can’t believe you can fly a helicopter.’

  ‘I can fly a plane, too. I’ll take you on one of those next,’ he says, sitting down next to me.

  I shake my head in wonder. ‘There’s so much I don’t know about you. And to think you once said I was the mysterious one.’

  ‘When did I say that?’ he asks, gently placing the cups on the coffee table.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ I quickly reply as my memory starts serving me properly. I feel my face heat up.

  ‘You were thinking about Will, weren’t you?’ he asks quietly, turning to look at me.

  ‘Sorry,’ I say again, but he averts his gaze.

  I feel tense and a little bit nauseous. He meets my eyes again.

  ‘Are you over him?’

  I don’t answer for a moment, then reply honestly, ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘That’s not good, Daisy.’

  ‘No, I know it’s not good, Luis,’ I snap. ‘But what do you expect me to do about it?’

  He looks away and shakes his head. ‘Were you in love with him?’ He asks the question so softly I can barely hear him.

  Was I in love with him? I don’t want to remember, but now I can’t help it. Images flood my mind of my time with Will. How he sat on a sofa not dissimilar to this one and told me he preferred my hair down to up. How he said I was doing his head in before he came clean about his feelings for me. How his eyes were full of regret when Laura got to him on the grid before me and I never wished him good luck.

  And then I see that crash, that terrible crash . . . The white sheet coming out by the ambulance crew, Laura and his family being rushed out of the pits, me packing his bag in his room and then losing his black T-shirt that still smelled of him . . . A lump forms in my throat and my eyes fill with tears, and then I desperately want to sob my heart out, but I can’t, not here with Luis.

  ‘I think you should go,’ he says morosely. ‘I have to get some sleep before qualifying tomorrow.’

  I nod and stand up. ‘I’m sorry,’ I tell him again.

  He doesn’t answer so I walk to the door and leave him alone on the sofa.

  Luis qualifies third the following day, and I can’t help but feel somewhat to blame because yesterday he was quickest in practice. I want to talk to him about it, but his parents are here now, and I don’t feel comfortable seeing them after what happened – or didn’t happen – between Luis and I last night. So I hide away in the kitchen because Frederick is still letting me help with the catering.

  ‘Very good,’ he comments, when I show him a platter of fresh seafood that I’ve prepared. My heart swells with pride because compliments don’t come easy to him. ‘I should have had you helping out with the cooking more often.’

  ‘I would have loved to have done that,’ I tell him.

  ‘Well, it’s too late now,’ he says, before erupting. ‘It’s a bloody disgrace!’

  I crack a smile. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

  He shakes his head angrily, and I’m touched that he cares about losing me.

  ‘I’m applying to catering college, you know,’ I tell him.

  He regards me with interest. ‘Are you? If you want me to write you a reference, let me know.’

  ‘Would you really?’

  ‘Absolutely. Just don’t go into competition with me on the Formula 1 scene.’

  I laugh. ‘I hardly think that’s likely. I’d be happy working in a restaurant in London.’

  ‘For some celebrity chef, no doubt,’ he scoffs.

  I smile and hand the platter to Gertrude to take outside to the serving table. Later, Pete, Dan and the lads drag Holly and me out on the town for our last night out together.

  ‘I can’t believe you two are leaving,’ Pete says sadly. We’re seated by the window at a piano bar called Terraço Itália and the view of São Paulo city laid out below is incredible. I’ve seen the twinkling lights of so many cities around the world and it still takes my breath away. I’ve been ridiculously lucky to have had this experience. I hope I didn’t take it too much for granted.

  ‘Me neither,’ I reply. I don’t feel like drinking, but the lads have insisted on caipirinhas all round. Brazil’s notorious cachacabased cocktail is very alcoholic, so I’m making mine last.

  Pete turns to me. ‘I had no idea you were a rich chick. And I mean that as a compliment,’ he adds, before I can give him any stick.

  I smile wryly. ‘I wish I wasn’t. But even if my father hadn’t interfered, it was time for me to do something different.’

  ‘What about you, Hol?’ Dan asks Holly. ‘What are you going to do?’

  My mind turns to other things, because we’ve had this conversation before.

  I miss Luis. It’s not the same without him here tonight. He’s having dinner with his family, who are all staying in the city so they’re close by for the race tomorrow. I really wish I were with him, right now.

  Am I over Will? It’s been four months since his death, and even when he was alive, I barely spent any time with him. It didn’t feel like that when the accident happened, but now, looking back, my relationship with him is starting to seem quite surreal.

  I go home early that night, while the others all head out to a bar in the Itaim area. The following morning I hide away in the kitchen again, poking my head out of the door to see if I can catch Luis when he arrives. I don’t know what I’ll say, but I’m hoping something will come to mind. When I finally do spot him, my heart flips and my spirits lift. I hurriedly wash my hands and go to walk out of the kitchen, but then I realise he has about ten members of his clan with him and my feet come to a stop. I turn around and hurry back to the worktop to continue with my chores. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to catch him alone later.

  But I don’t. As the minutes turn into hours and the race draws nearer, I worry that I won’t even get a chance to wish him good luck. Every time I see him, he’s surrounded. Holly comes into the kitchen to ask if I’m going to watch the race.

  ‘Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it.’

  ‘For the last time ever, girls,’ Frederick says, a tinge of sadness in his voice. ‘Can you take the tea, coffee and biscuits with you to the pits.’

  ‘Yes, Chef!’ we chorus, and he smiles at us.

  ‘Ooh, I feel a bit sad, actually,’ Holly says as we trek across the way to the garages.

  ‘Me, too.’

  ‘It’s the end of an era. I’m going to really miss working with you.’ She glances at me, tears in her eyes.

  ‘Oh, don’t, you’ll make me cry, too,’ I warn.

  ‘Okay, okay, let’s not get emotional,’ she jokes. ‘At least you’re still living with me.’

  ‘Not for long, I promise.’

  ‘Take as long as you need,’ she says. ‘Although saying that, I might have to move into town if I’m going to be working for Frederick and Ingrid. Don’t much fancy that commute in from the sticks.’

  ‘Yes, go on! That would be brilliant,’ I urge.

  ‘We’ll see.’

  Luis glances my way when we appear in the garages, but immediately averts his gaze and my heart sinks.

  ‘Daisy!’

  I look over to see Mrs Castro waving at me. I place the platter down on the serving table and walk her way, feel
ing horribly awkward and uncomfortable. I haven’t spoken to her son since Friday night, but I don’t think he will have told his mother that.

  ‘Hello!’ She gives me a big hug and I’m intensely aware of Luis’s nearby presence as he talks to Dan.

  Luis doesn’t make any effort to speak to me, so when I’ve exchanged pleasantries with the rest of his family, I make my excuses about needing to get back to work. I return to the serving table and help Holly set up the coffee cups.

  ‘Careful!’ she warns, when I almost drop one.

  ‘Sorry,’ I murmur, looking over to see if Luis noticed. He has his back to me. Cazzo, I feel so on edge. What if this is it? What if I’ve missed my chance? What if I don’t get to tell him that I care about him? What if he leaves the moment the race is over? No, I have to catch him alone. I’ll confront him on the grid if I have to.

  Oh, God. Luis confronted Will on the grid and then he crashed and killed himself. I put my hands on the table in front of me and take a few deep breaths.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Holly asks, all of a sudden realising I’m not in a good way.

  I nod and flash her a tight smile. Perhaps I won’t confront Luis on the grid, after all.

  I feel a hand on my back and turn to see him standing there. Holly quickly makes herself scarce.

  ‘Hey!’ I smile, relief flooding me.

  He reaches across and pokes at the platter of biscuits. ‘Still no custard creams?’

  ‘Oh, damn, I’m sorry!’ I cover my mouth with my hands. ‘I had every intention of getting you some. I just forgot.’

  He shakes his head at me, his face deadpan. ‘How could you forget something so important?’

  ‘I’ll get you some when we get back to the UK, I promise.’

  He folds his arms and stares at me. ‘Are we going to see each other when we get back to the UK, then?’

  ‘I’ll come and camp on your doorstep, if you’re not careful,’ I tease.

  ‘Luis!’ We look over to see Dan calling him.

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ he says.

  ‘Hey, good luck for the race.’

  ‘See ya later.’ He smiles and turns away.

  ‘Bye,’ I call, as a feeling of déjà vu overwhelms me.

  Those were the last words I exchanged with Will on the morning of his death. A shiver goes through me and I feel like I’m freezing, despite the humidity.