The Holiday Swap

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The Holiday Swap Page 22

by Zara Stoneley


  He didn’t comment, his steady gaze not wavering as he took another drag.

  ‘Until I caught him in bed with somebody else. I thought my whole life had ground to a halt, then I started to wonder how I’d ever put him on such a high pedestal.’ She shifted around and he put a cushion under her head. ‘I’d just let him push me round, stop me writing, just doing the stuff he wanted. Coming here has let me get a grip again, do what I want instead of what somebody else wants all the time.’

  ‘Like write?’

  ‘Like write.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ He stubbed the cigarette out, even though it wasn’t finished. ‘I can understand that.’

  ‘You can, can’t you, Hugo?’ There was something in his eyes. ‘Tell me about your father and his great expectations.’ The twitch of his lips told her she’d been right.

  ‘I hope you’re not expecting an outpouring of grief or hate that will explain all my faults away.’

  She smiled. ‘Nothing so simple. I’m just curious, and you seem good at wheedling stuff out of me. You said he wanted you to be a lawyer?’

  ‘I did?’

  ‘When we were talking about quotes the other day.’

  ‘There’s a lot to be said for a post-coital fag instead of a chat.’ He sighed, then lit a second cigarette and stared into the flames of the fire. ‘Not a lot to tell, he did indeed want me to do something useful with my expensive education, and be respected in my field. Law is in the family; another barrister would have suited nicely.’

  ‘But not for Hugo the rebel.’

  ‘I didn’t rebel.’ His tone was mild. ‘I just hate all the stuffiness, all the pomp, and I loved horses. It’s one thing that has always come naturally to me, and,’ he smiled, ‘I’m lazy, so why not follow the easy route.’

  It didn’t look like it had been an easy road to her. ‘Doing what you want rather than what’s expected is the hardest thing you can do.’

  ‘We fell out rather spectacularly when I not only started riding for a living, but I shagged his boss’s wife. He threw me out, told me never to darken the doorstep and all that kind of thing.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘I wasn’t that old, and she did rather grab me by the balls, as it were, and make me an offer I couldn’t refuse.’

  ‘You told him that?’

  ‘Did I hell! Pompous old fool, I wasn’t going to admit to being coerced rather than sweeping her off her feet was I? It was probably the only bit he was proud of, I think he was jealous.’

  ‘Hugo!’ She laughed. He flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette.

  ‘I do rather miss my mother. But that, my darling, is why I’m here in this dump. My money supply was cut off, and all my time and everything I earn goes on the horses.’

  ‘It isn’t a dump. Daisy’s nice, kind, you should be nicer to her and more grateful.’

  His hand, she noticed, was trembling.

  ‘I can’t be, I don’t have any redeeming features – or so I’m told.’

  She rolled over and wrapped her arms round him. ‘Oh I think you do.’

  ‘I think I should show you my best feature one more time and then have a whisky.’ He stood up and pulled her to her feet. ‘You are staying, I take it?’

  ‘No.’ The look in his eyes made her feel guilty. ‘I need to let Mabel out, and…’

  ‘You have to do things your way.’ The look had gone, and he’d got his normal, slightly mocking, look.

  ‘People will talk.’

  ‘There’s nobody for miles.’

  ‘I will talk. In my head, to myself, and I won’t be impressed. I don’t want to turn this into something wrong, Hugo, when it actually feels right. I’ll see what I think in the morning.’

  ‘After you’ve talked to yourself?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll let you know what I tell myself.’ She reached over to grab her discarded dress. ‘Night, Hugo.’

  Chapter 19 – Daisy. Finding Mr Right

  The sun was shining, but there was a cool enough edge to the air to make Daisy grab her jacket and scarf when she returned to the apartment after her morning coffee and croissant.

  She’d tried ringing Jimmy again, and got his customary message, which wasn’t quite as funny on the two hundred and seventy-eighth hearing. And it cost her a fifty pence connection charge; her next mobile phone bill was going to be of scary proportions. She didn’t mind the fifty pence, it was more the fact that she’d paid it to listen to his message and talk to his answerphone. But it seemed wrong to not keep in touch. She’d sent more than one email as well, but knew he wouldn’t even bother reading them. He considered all emails spam, and treated them the same way he did paper junk mail – by ignoring them.

  She’d had one email from Anna –

  Hiya Dais,

  How’s it going? I’d give anything to swap places, you lucky thing.

  The buggers here have got their own back for letting me have those measly few days off, I really hate my boss you’ll never believe what a cow she’s been and she just keeps saying it’s for my own good, ha, you should see the snide look on her face.

  Not had a chance to check up on Flo, but she texted and said everything was okay, and she’d met Hugo, and said why didn’t we tell her what your place was like? She also said she doesn’t like chickens much, but she loves Mabel.

  From what I’ve heard, Jimmy has more or less moved into The Bulls Head now you’re not there to cook his dinner. Not being funny, but if you decide not to say I do, then I think Angie will give him a shoulder to cry on. I have never, ever seen a skirt like the one she had on the other day – it made a cummerbund look big. I’ll send you a pic.

  Better go and prepare stuff for tomorrow, and go to the bar. Reception here is crap or I would have phoned.

  Anna xx

  It was no wonder Jimmy wasn’t answering her calls if he was in the pub all the time. The phone reception wasn’t the best in there, and he normally had his phone on silent, and in his pocket, so it didn’t interfere with his drinking.

  She glanced round the apartment to check she’d shut all the windows, then turned the thermostat down a bit. Double-locking the doors behind her (though any burglar keen enough to get all the way up here had to be deranged or determined) she set off down the stairs.

  Daisy opened the outside door then pulled the zip of her leather jacket up a bit higher. There really was a nip in the air today – although it was more like a British autumn than winter temperature – which was why she’d had a sudden urge to go for a long walk rather than catch a train.

  She’d abandoned the idea of jogging after looking at a couple of apps that were supposed to introduce you very slowly. So slowly that she’d still be at the stage that involved two minutes’ running and the same walking by the time she’d got home, which hardly seemed worth it. Plus, she’d actually found her days were crammed full of things to do. She’d hardly made any inroads at all into the contents of her Kindle – by the time she got in she was usually too tired, or too tipsy, to enjoy it. Which was a bit weird, she’d expected finding time to read to be easier here than it was at home.

  Crossing the road, she followed the route she’d jogged down, which meant she got to see a bit of everything. She wandered through the old streets, packed with bars and shops and then re-joined the main street that would take her down towards the port.

  On the corner there was an old circus, decorated caravans in a circle around the big old tent and a brightly painted ticket office with kids crowded round giggling and jumping around.

  A circus visited the nearest town to Tippermere when she’d been little, and her mum would always take her and Em, and tease her dad until he reluctantly took his overalls off and spruced himself up. They’d been like these families here: expectant, excited, waiting for somebody to add a little bit of magic to their lives. People were people the world over, she supposed. You didn’t need to catch a plane to see happy faces, to be happy.

  She wandered along in front of the posh rest
aurants that faced the marina and on a sudden impulse fished her phone out of her pocket as she stared out at the luxury yachts that competed for space and attention.

  ‘Well, this is a nice surprise, Daisy. I was just saying to your dad I wondered how you were getting on. Are you having a nice time?’

  ‘Hi, Mum. Yes, it’s great thanks.’

  ‘We’ve had snow here.’

  ‘It’s lovely and sunny here, not exactly sunbathing weather, but I did have a paddle in the sea.’

  ‘That’s lovely, dear. I always did think it was a shame we couldn’t get away from the farm more when you were little. Me and your dad are thinking of going on a little cruise next year, you’ve made me get my wanderlust back. I do miss going abroad.’

  ‘But who’ll look after the farm?’

  ‘Well your dad has a lad full time now, and he’ll get somebody else from the agency, just to help out.’

  ‘That’ll be great, Mum, you’d love it here.’

  ‘Oh I did dear, though I bet it’s changed since me and your dad went.’

  ‘You’ve been to Barcelona? I never knew.’

  ‘Oh it was before you were born – we weren’t always boring.’ She could hear the smile in her mother’s voice.

  ‘I didn’t think you were. Mum?’

  ‘Yes, Daisy?’

  ‘Did you ever, well,’ she couldn’t say ‘regret’ could she? ‘Did you ever miss all your trips away, you know all the excitement you had before…’

  ‘Before I decided to help your dad on the farm?’ Her mother’s voice was always soft, gentle, but now it dropped even more. ‘Oh never, darling. This is what I decided I wanted. But I think I know what you’re asking, you’ll know when you’ve found what you want, Daisy, and in the meantime you should enjoy yourself a little. I did.’

  ‘But you loved your job?’

  ‘Oh I did for a while. It suited me when I was younger, but people change.’

  ‘I think I’ve changed the other way. I think I want to see other places.’

  ‘You should do, dear, or how will you ever know where you really want to be? Although, to be honest, it is the people that make the place.’

  ‘I do love Tippermere.’

  ‘I know you do, Daisy, and that is why dear old Mrs Webster said she wanted you to have Mere End. She said you loved the village enough to respect it, and she wanted to give you freedom to explore.’

  ‘Freedom?’ She sat down on a bench. ‘But it’s made me stay there.’

  ‘If you have a base where you feel secure, Daisy, then it gives you the confidence to travel further. She was a clever old lady, she said she recognised a little of herself in you; she knew that once you’d settled and got yourself comfortable, then you’d start looking for a little bit of excitement. She thought it would give you the time you needed to think about it. Do things your own way, in your own time.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘You will be back for Christmas, will you love?’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’

  ‘That’s nice, it’ll be lovely to see you.’

  ‘Mum?’ She had to ask, had to know what she was facing when she got home. ‘Did you know Jimmy proposed?’

  There was a long silence. Which could have been a yes, or could have been shock.

  ‘I’m going to say no to him when I come back. I have tried to talk to him but he’s always busy, but I do want to tell him, explain properly, you know, be fair.’

  ‘Well you know we never like to interfere in your life, Daisy, but I have to say I’m pleased.’ She paused and Daisy waited for the ‘too old’ ‘too boring’ ‘no money’ spiel. ‘You’ll find the right person when you’re ready, and you’ll know, just like I did, and then it won’t matter where you are or what you’ve done.’

  ‘I know, Mum.’

  ‘He’s not the one, is he, Daisy?’

  She sighed. ‘I don’t suppose I ever thought he was.’

  ‘I better be off, love, as long as you’re okay. I’ve got some mince pies ready to come out of the oven.’ There was a rattling sound of baking tins in the background. ‘You haven’t met anybody out there have you, Daisy?’

  Daisy didn’t answer immediately, and when she did she knew she didn’t sound entirely convincing. ‘No, Mum.’ But maybe she had.

  She hadn’t come here to find anybody, she’d come to find the bit of herself she thought she might have lost. But then she’d met a man who seemed to instinctively understand her, to care about her, a man who wanted to share things with her.

  Except he was a man who had a home – and responsibilities she still didn’t properly understand – in Barcelona. And she had a home back in the UK. Or maybe the answer would have been different. Maybe, just maybe, she would have said yes.

  Her mother was wrong about one thing though. It did matter where she was, where he was. The lives they had.

  Or maybe she was just making up excuses, like she had in the past when she had stopped herself exploring the world and doing what she wanted to earlier.

  Javier had kissed her and he’d made her feel dizzy, confused, and exhilarated all at once in a way she would never have thought possible.

  Then he’d asked her if she’d come back to Barcelona, and she’d just brushed it off, said it was difficult. Not even tried to find out more about his sister and his complications. Not dared to think that they might have a chance to get to know each other better. She groaned inwardly. It was no wonder he’d driven her home in near silence. How could she have done that? Been so thoughtless.

  But he had asked her if she would come back to him.

  ‘Are you still there, Daisy?’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’

  ‘And you are okay?’

  ‘I’m good.’ She was good, but maybe she could be better if she could be brave enough to follow her heart, to really go for it. ‘I’ll give you a call when I get home. Bye, Mum’

  ‘Bye, love. You enjoy yourself.’

  Daisy slipped her phone back in her pocket. She’d expected to feel homesick, wanting to rush back. But she hadn’t. She just felt happy. As soon as she got home she was going to write out a proper list of places she really wanted to go, and she was going to find out how much they cost and plan exactly when she was going. And she was going to work out when she could come back to Barcelona and see Javier – if she hadn’t already blown her chance. But for now she was going to walk as far along the beach as she could.

  Daisy slowed her pace as she neared the cafés that sat at the back of Port Olympic. They were set back a bit from the water and had glass fronts, which she was sure would cut down the effect of the breeze, meaning they’d be quite warm. She really fancied coffee and churros, or even some of the spicy patatas bravas – just something to warm her up and stop her stomach growling. She seemed to be eating more and more since she’d been here – whether it was the fact that the tapas and pintxos were so inviting and tasty, or just the brisk walk, she was definitely in eat mode. It was probably a good job she’d be heading home soon, before the waistband of her jeans exploded, there was a lot to be said for a good percentage of elastane.

  She eyed up the menus as she walked, not that she was going to be tempted into anything more than a snack, then narrowed her eyes as she spotted a familiar dark head of hair above broad shoulders. No it couldn’t be.

  Some instinct stopped her from running over, from waving and shouting his name. Either that, or the fact that he’d said he was busy today and she’d just assumed he was working, not…

  She backed up a few steps, then ducked into the restaurant she’d just passed so that she could take a closer look. From this angle there was absolutely no doubt at all.

  It was Javier. And he was bouncing a giggling toddler on his knee.

  On the seat opposite was the girl that Daisy had seen him with when she’d gone to the meet-up, on her first evening alone. The petite, pretty girl he’d shared a look of pure adoration with.

  He’d told her that it had ended; they’d st
ayed friends. That he wasn’t in the right place for a relationship – and she’d just assumed that was because of his sister. Because of family responsibilities. So what was this? This put a whole different slant on the meaning of ‘family’.

  The girl was watching the man and boy, laughing, putting out a hand to rest on Javier’s knee in a way that spoke of a closeness Daisy was suddenly jealous of. Then she leant forward and kissed him on the cheek.

  No wonder he’d said life was complicated.

  Daisy’s hand went up automatically to her own cheek, the cheek he’d kissed when he’d left her the day before. When he’d told her he was busy – with work – today. When he’d suggested she catch a train out of town.

  Way out of town, out of his way.

  Daisy frowned. She shouldn’t be upset. It was one kiss, a few friendly days. Days when he’d warned her off, when he’d said he should never have kissed her.

  But the pain in her chest was real, as was the choking feeling in her throat, followed by the sudden sharp taste of bile as her hand dropped to cover her mouth.

  Why would he lie to her?

  She’d trusted him so much, instinctively, wanted to. Thought that they had something far closer than anything she’d had with anybody before – and suddenly it looked like it had all been built on nothing. If he’d lied about this, what else had he lied about? Did he even have a sister who relied on him?

  She couldn’t drag her gaze away from the little boy, who was now bouncing and rubbing his nose against Javier’s. Then Javier swung him up in the air above his head and he squealed with excitement. They all looked so happy. A perfect family. Which was what she could have with Jimmy. But she didn’t want it.

  A short time in Barcelona had given her what she’d always dreamed it would, it wasn’t that she wanted to spend the rest of her life here. But she couldn’t go back to how things were before – with no promise of a better future.

  The girl turned, and for a moment Daisy was sure she’d seen her. She had to get out of here. How bad would it be if he saw her watching them like some kind of stalker? She stumbled back, nearly tripping over a table leg, then righted herself and ducked down so she was doubled over.

 

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