LIPSTICK, POWDER AND PAINTDaisy’s family seemed to have recovered well
from their inadvertent drug taking. By the end of the day, Tony remarked how
well he felt, relaxed and refreshed. Her mum said one or two things about
calmness, putting it down to being away from streets full of traffic and
pedestrians moving at one hundred miles an hour.
Racked with guilt, Daisy had
spent the next two days with them. The afterglow
from the party, though, underlined the guilt,
scored it out in the end. She’d drifted behind Tony, Debbie and Matthew as they
explored some of the towns and villages nearby, uncomplaining when her dad
insisted on a visit to yet another dull and dreary museum, its exhibits stuffed
animals, old paintings and random bits of metal said to come from Iron Age
settlement
