The Holiday Swap

by Zara Stoneley

  Daisy giggled. ‘You didn’t! Oh Flo, I wish I’d been there, I would have loved to see his face.’

  Flo decided it was time to change the subject. ‘So how’s Barcelona? Everything okay?’

  ‘Oh fine, fine. I do miss everybody, and I have been a bit, I don’t know, it’s so different here, but I met this guy. Don’t look at me like that, Flo! It was your friend Javier. Honestly, what do you think I am? He’d dead friendly, isn’t he? And he brought the cutest of dogs over for us to walk because he guessed that I miss Mabel – wasn’t that lovely? Oh hang on, I think that’s my phone. Look, I’d better go, I just wanted to check everything was okay?’

  ‘Everything’s okay, including the chickens you didn’t tell me about.’

  Daisy grinned. ‘I knew you wouldn’t mind them, have you had many eggs?’

  ‘Eggs?’

  ‘Yes eggs, you know, chickens lay them? Just put your hand in the box underneath?’

  ‘Won’t they, you know,’ she really didn’t like those beaks, ‘peck me?’ Stick her hand in? Was Daisy mad?

  ‘Don’t be daft. I’d better go, catch you soon. Bye.’

  ‘Well, Daisy’s having fun, isn’t she?’ Mabel cocked her ears at the mention of her mistress’s name. ‘But she hasn’t got Cheshire’s answer to Don Juan next door, has she? Oh bugger,’ there amongst the Skype messages was one from Oli, his smarmy face grinning out at her.

  ‘Where are you? I need to pick my stuff up from your place.’

  ‘He really is a jerk, isn’t he?’ Mabel scratched behind her ear with one massive back foot and then ran her chin along the worktop in search of crumbs.

  ‘I told you, I’m away. Call me in the New Year. Florence.’ She had just pressed send when Mabel gave such a loud bark she jumped.

  ‘Mabel!’ The dog barked again, then again, then put her nose in the air and howled. ‘What on earth is the matter, you daft animal?’ Mabel stared at the door, her hackles rising, and for a moment Flo didn’t know if she should be scared and do a runner. Or go and open it.

  The dog cocked her head to one side, as though listening, then barked again – and wagged her tail. So maybe not a mad axe murderer.

  She opened the door a crack. There was nobody there. She opened it a bit wider, to take a better look and was just about to close it again when Mabel barged past her, heading straight down the path towards Hugo’s place. She didn’t stop at Hugo’s front door – she kept going. ‘Oh hell.’ Slipping on the wellingtons that were behind the door, and pulling it closed behind her, Flo started running after the dog, whose lolloping stride was covering the ground remarkably quickly. No wonder Hugo had warned her not to let the animal out.

  ‘Please don’t go round there.’ Mabel did, straight round the corner towards Hugo’s stables. ‘Bugger.’ Flo slithered on the mossy stones but kept going. ‘Mabel!’

  Then she heard the bellow.

  Hugo.

  Which meant he was there. She could creep back inside and wait for him to bring the dog back. Deny all knowledge. No, that was wrong. Wimpish.

  What had ever made her think she wanted a dog in her life? For once (just once) Oli might have been right.

  Then she realised it wasn’t just a bellow. He was shouting her name.

  ‘Thank Christ you heard me. I need help with this horse. Lock Mabel in the stable out of the way.’ He didn’t even look at her, his gaze was fixed on a horse, a very large horse that was lying flat out on its side, its neck lathered foamy white, its nostril flared, showing a blood-red lining.

  For a moment Flo stared, then, grabbing Mabel, she shoved her into the next stable before she had chance to realise what was happening and object.

  ‘He’s cast.’

  ‘Cast?’

  ‘Stuck. I think he’s got colic and rolled. Go and get two lunge lines out of my tack room over there,’ he waved an arm in the vague direction of one of the stables, ‘hung up on a hook at the back.’ She looked at him. ‘Go. Hurry up.’

  She hurried. His tack room, like everything else about him, was immaculate and ordered, which explained why he went ape-shit with Daisy the day Barney got in.

  The lunge lines were exactly where he said, hung up neatly, so she grabbed two and ran back. Mabel had her front paws over the stable door. ‘Please be a good girl.’ She slipped down soundlessly and sat in the middle of the stable, her large tail slowly wagging a neat semi-circle into the shavings.

  ‘Cheers.’ Hugo put a hand out to take them from her. ‘Rub his ears in slow circles while I loop these over his legs.’

  Okay. Seemed a bit weird, but sometimes it was wise to do as you were asked.

  ‘It will keep him calm, he’s normally pretty chilled but I don’t want him striking out if my head’s in the way.’ Hugo’s voice was steady, measured, not reflecting at all the danger – and Flo got why Daisy said he was good in a crisis. ‘Just keep some pressure on his neck with one hand to keep him steady, fine, there’s a boy.’ Adrenalin wasn’t in his vocabulary, he was as calm as somebody taking a stroll in the park as he murmured to the horse, working away to fasten the lines round his fetlocks.

  ‘Right, probably better if you just stand in the doorway, hold this.’ He passed her the end of one lunge line, then wiped his arm across his eyes. There was a thin sheen of perspiration across his brow, despite the cold and the fact he was in his shirtsleeves. This was bothering him more than he let on. He stood back. ‘Take up the slack a bit, there, good.’ Still he didn’t look at her, just had eyes for the horse. ‘We’re going to ease him over, together, okay?’

  It was over in an instant. The moment the horse started to move he took over the roll himself, hooves flailing, as Hugo ducked out of the way and stood in the doorway with her. For a moment the large horse lay on his side, as though exhausted, then he was up on his feet. Wobbling and unsteady.

  ‘Just stand at his head will you? Talk to him.’ He was back at work, moving the lunge lines out of the way, then clipping a lead rope onto the horse’s head collar. ‘I’ll walk him round in the school. Colic. Come on, boy. I thought he’d be okay in the stable; he usually is when this happens, but the silly old fool was rolling about too much. Weren’t you?’ The handsome head, darkened with sweat, rubbed up and down Hugo’s arm, then he followed, his head hung low as though he was exhausted. ‘I phoned the vet but he was out on a call, I think we’d better keep this old boy gently moving until he gets here. Eh?’ The horse faltered, looked round at its flank, then recovered and patiently followed Hugo into the school.

  Flo watched, feeling useless, but reluctant to leave as Hugo and the gelding walked falteringly round. ‘Go in, it’s cold.’

  ‘I’m fine. Isn’t there anything I can do?’

  He ran his hand over his face, blinking his eyes open wider, shattered, and she wondered how long he’d been in the stable trying to get the horse on its feet by himself before she’d arrived. ‘Well, there are a few horses out still that need bringing in.’

  ‘I’ll get them.’

  ‘A couple are a bit,’ he hesitated, ‘lively.’

  ‘I can try.’

  He shook his head wearily. ‘They probably won’t let you near them, they get fresh when it goes cold like this and they can’t be turned out for long.’ He looked at her, then back at the horse and hesitated, weighing something up. ‘I suppose you could walk him round while I do it. I won’t be long and…’

  ‘It’ll be fine, honest, I’ll do it.’ She was already walking alongside him, keeping in step.

  ‘I want to keep him on his feet unless he really wants to go down, but we do it at his pace.’

  ‘I know, I’ll carry on just like you’ve been doing.’

  ‘Shout me if anything happens, if there’s any change at all.’

  ‘Promise, go on.’

  It was a relief to actually be doing something useful. Flo murmured softly to the horse as she’d seen Hugo doing, encouraging him to plod on beside her. ‘Good boy, it won’t be long now. I know it
’s boring and cold, but you know it’s for your own good, don’t you?’ The horse nudged her arm in response, and she scratched under his forelock with her free hand, then stroked her hand down the long nose. It gave a low nicker, spotting Hugo coming back before she did, and Flo found herself blinking back tears. She would never have imagined that beneath that arrogant exterior there was such a caring man, but there was evidently a strong bond between him and the horse. The animal trusted him, loved him; a feeling that was obviously mutual.

  ‘Thanks.’ His hand rested on her arm, warm, strong, his gaze fixed on hers as he tugged the lead rope gently from her hands and for once there was no mockery, nothing but concern. ‘Thanks, really. I’ll take him back now. You warm your hands up.’

  She swallowed to clear the silly lump from her throat. ‘We can take it in turns if you like?’

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘I’ll walk with you, if you don’t mind, of course?’

  She fell into step with him again, not wanting to leave his side, wanting to feel the warmth of his hand again, wondering why all of a sudden she felt wobbly and her stomach felt strangely hollow.

  He nodded, his attention back on the horse and Flo risked a sideways glance. His brow was etched with a frown she’d never seen on his chiselled features before as he concentrated on his horse, his voice low and steadying as he coaxed it on – as they stumbled doggedly on, round and round the arena. This caring, determined Hugo was nothing like the mocking man who’d been trying to get her into bed, the man she’d decided was an insensitive idiot.

  Flo started as she realised she’d got closer and closer, and was practically leaning on him.

  ‘You’re tired – go and sit down for a bit.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She linked her hand through his arm. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  Two hours later, when they were all exhausted, the vet finally turned up.

  ***

  ‘Come and have a drink with me. I need one.’ It wasn’t a question, or even an invitation, but Flo didn’t mind. He needed company. He was shattered and, with a start, she realised this wasn’t physical. He was emotionally drained. Hugo cared. And as he sank down into an armchair and smiled it was the most genuine and open expression she’d ever seen on his face.

  ‘Thanks for helping.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ She felt pretty shattered herself, but strangely happy. For the first time in years she’d actually been useful. Somebody had actually thanked her for doing something. ‘Will he be okay?’

  ‘I think so. He’s getting on a bit though, and he’s had a few bouts. Vet doesn’t quite know what’s causing it. Christ, I’m shattered.’ His fingers were brushing through his hair, a habit she’d already got used to, and she had a sudden urge to hug him, to wrap her arms round him, feel his strong body against hers, taste his lips, those strong fingers tangling in her own hair…

  Oh God. She opened her eyes, which she hadn’t realised she’d closed. She had to stop this; it was totally inappropriate and was going to get her in all kinds of trouble. She could just hug him… no, she couldn’t.

  Instead she scrambled to her feet. ‘I’d better let Mabel out.’

  ‘Okay. Flo?’

  ‘Yep?’

  He didn’t continue until she was looking straight into those grey eyes, which didn’t have any hint of mockery in them at all. ‘How about we reset the counter, clear the slate, forget I was such a prick last night and start again?’

  ‘Sure.’ She wasn’t quite sure what ‘start again’ meant, but what the hell? It was only a fortnight out of her life. ‘That sounds good. I’ll catch you later.’ She took a step towards the door.

  ‘Florence?’

  ‘Hugo?’

  His brow was furrowed as he studied her over the rim of his glass. ‘What were you doing last night? You were in the front bedroom with the light on for ages.’

  ‘Have you been spying on me?’

  ‘Maybe.’ A hint of the normal Hugo returned, a gleam in his eye.

  ‘I was writing.’

  ‘Writing?’

  ‘Mm, you know, words, sentences. I do it for a living.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘I run a magazine with my boyf—’ she pulled herself up short, what did she call him that was polite? ‘My ex. Well I did, but I’m taking a bit of a sabbatical while I decide what to do next.’ With the rest of my life.

  ‘But you were writing last night. Not much of a sabbatical.’

  ‘Just scribbling, ideas. Other, different stuff, you know.’ Stuff that was too embarrassing to talk about.

  He didn’t look like he did know.

  ‘I better go and check on Mabel. Bye Hugo.’

  She’d been scribbling. That was the only word for it. After lying in bed for half an hour she’d had a sudden urge to write. It was strange, when she’d left college she’d wanted to be an author, she loved letting her imagination run free, creating characters who could roam free and cause havoc in her head. And then real life had taken over. She’d got a job, met Oli, set up the magazine. Then spent her days proof-reading his columns and writing her own. She did enjoy it, most of the time, but it was only now – in a cottage in the middle of nowhere – that she’d felt compelled to create. Oli had always said it was a waste of time, and she hadn’t had a second to spare anyway. But here, now, she had.

  And she’d just had a whole new line of inspiration. A hero who was a pompous cad who cared. ‘How terribly Jilly Cooper,’ she said to Mabel, who waved her tail frantically, glad to have escaped the confines of the stable. ‘Come on, we’re going to share beans on toast then I’m writing a bestseller.’

  Chapter 15- Daisy. Seeing clearly

  ‘I thought I’d find you here.’

  Daisy looked up and grinned, totally relieved that she hadn’t put Javier off for life. She’d had a horrible feeling that he’d be running for the hills, or at least his scooter. He was obviously taking his duties, as instructed by Flo, seriously. Didn’t anybody think she could do this on her own? Although she had to admit, she’d realised last night that she would miss Javier if she didn’t see him again. She’d got used to his comforting presence. He felt safe, reliable. Nice. More than nice.

  ‘Am I so predictable?’ She’d only been here a few days, but the small corner café in the square had become her go-to place for breakfast. The staff were friendly, the seats were in a sunny spot and the croissants just had to be the best. And it was quiet. She could sit undisturbed and start her day off with a bit of people-watching, and day-dreaming.

  ‘Nope, you look very at home and relaxed though.’

  She was – very relaxed. She was finally starting to unwind, to take life a bit slower and not feel like she should be doing something. Speaking of which… ‘Don’t you ever work?’

  ‘It’s a slow time.’ He sat down on the chair opposite her and ordered a coffee. ‘Another?’ She shook her head, she didn’t need a caffeine boost, she was already hyper enough these days. ‘There’s always a bit of a lull at this time of year. People come to go round the shops, see the lights and the Christmas markets. The tapas and wine are just necessary fuelling in between. Spring and autumn are my busiest times.’

  ‘I haven’t really done the shops, light, or markets yet properly.’

  ‘Tut, tut, although you’re not that type of tourist, are you?’

  ‘I’m not sure what I am.’ Many a true word spoken in jest. Isn’t that what they said? Which brought her neatly onto… ‘I said I’d tell you about my list.’

  ‘Later.’

  She really did want to try and explain about being here, about Jimmy. But Javier had backed off.

  ‘I want to take you somewhere. Drink up.’ He reached across and took a flake of croissant from her hair. ‘And eat up. Then go and get your scarf and jacket.’

  ***

  ‘Your chariot awaits.’

  She’d gone up to the apartment to get her scarf, as instructed, and now had got back down to find Javier wait
ing. ‘You have to be kidding!’ With a scooter. A bright red Vespa scooter. ‘Oh my God, isn’t it cute?’ She giggled and put her hands over her mouth. She’d discounted Flo’s idea of hiring a scooter because no way did she trust herself to motor unscathed round the city, but she trusted Javier to take her.

  ‘No joke.’ He waggled the helmet she hadn’t noticed in his hand.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘It’s a surprise.’

  ‘I don’t like surprises, I like to know.’ She always knew exactly what was happening and when. But hadn’t she come here to break the mould, get out of her normal routines?

  ‘Well you’re going to have to wait this time.’ He winked. ‘Trust me.’

  She did, even without the cheeky wink and the look he was giving her, which was making her forget all her good intentions to think about him as just a good friend who could never be anything more. He was a good friend though, everything about him was good. He seemed to be in tune with her, how she felt, what she wanted. Which was a totally new experience, Jimmy had never known, or, if she was honest, seemed to care.

  But Javier had known instinctively that she missed her dog and he’d actually gone to all the effort of trying to make her feel better, which he hadn’t had to do at all. He’d made an already good day even better by turning up with little Poppy, and he’d not made her feel bad about kissing him. Not made her feel an idiot.

  She just felt like he’d be there for her when she needed him, which she’d never ever felt with Jimmy. With anybody. It would have been scary if anybody else had seemed to read her mind so effortlessly, but with Javier it just felt right. Natural. She trusted him.

  He was waiting patiently, watching her, no pressure. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to resist.

  ‘Here, let me wrap that scarf round more authentically, then you’ll look the part.’ His hand brushed against her cheek and sent a judder of cold goose bumps down her arms. ‘There.’ He didn’t seem to notice, or the way she was sure she was gazing at him like an adoring puppy. He put her helmet on, not meeting her gaze, so she studied his mouth – lips pursed as he did the strap up.