‘Assertive is the word, Hugo, and I was the same, you just never listened to me – you were too busy laughing and telling me off.’
‘Was I?’ Hugo looked down his nose at her and frowned. ‘Nonsense, and make sure you lock the tack room.’
Daisy was trying her hardest not to laugh. ‘It’ll be so peaceful without you around, Hugo. Mabel and Barney will have a great time.’ Hugo looked at her in consternation.
‘Does he laugh at you as well?’ Flo grinned and looped her arm through Daisy’s. ‘I thought it was just me.’
‘I only laugh when you’re being funny. Come on, stop ganging up on me, the taxi’s waiting. Although maybe this is a mistake.’
‘No way, bugger off and leave us in peace.’ Daisy gave him a shove in the direction of the taxi. ‘You have no idea how grateful I am to you, Flo, I’ve been trying to get him out of my hair for years. You couldn’t keep him out there permanently, could you?’
‘Oh hell, I’m going to miss all this.’ Flo threw her arms around Daisy. ‘Mabel is brill, and I loved Barney until he dumped me in a ditch, and I even quite liked the chickens.’
‘Well I’m quite happy for you to take Hugo, but I’m keeping the rest. That way maybe you’ll come back some time?’
‘Oh I will, promise.’ Flo hugged her tight, then pulled back and wiped the threatening tears from her smiling face. ‘Give my love to Anna, won’t you? I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her.’
‘I will. Love you, Flo.’ Daisy hugged her friend to her again, and then surprised herself by giving Hugo (who seemed so much nicer since she’d got back) a hug as well. She went up on tiptoe to whisper. ‘Look after my friend properly, or your horses are in trouble.’
He grinned. ‘Look after my horses properly and keep your hound out of my feed room or you’re not getting your friend back.’
‘Is that new aftershave, Hugo?’
Hugo laughed; a rich, deep laugh that she’d rarely heard before. ‘Oh God, you used to be so down-trodden. I like the new Daisy, and the new haircut – suits you.’
Daisy ran her fingers self-consciously through her hair as Hugo gathered the cases and loaded them into the taxi. Flo had done the impossible; made him more human. Although maybe he always had been. Maybe she just hadn’t looked hard enough for his nice side, the same as he’d never realised that she was more than the other half of Jimmy.
Javier slipped his arm round Daisy’s waist as they waved Flo and Hugo off.
‘They’ll have a great time. Barcelona on New Year’s Eve is awesome. I’m going to show you next year.’
‘Promises, promises. I might hold you to that.’ She nestled in closer to his firm body. It was hard to believe that he’d been there nearly a week already. That tomorrow would be the start of yet another year. And that so much had changed in her life over the past month. ‘Tippermere is pretty awesome too. Come on, I’m going to show you how we make proper mulled wine.’
The cottage was soon flooded with the spicy, fruity aroma that she loved. It was pure festive Christmas holiday: cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg and because Javier hadn’t been there to sample it on Christmas Eve she was determined he was going to taste some now.
‘I can see why you love being here.’ They were sitting together on her old leather sofa, Javier’s long legs stretched out in front of him, watching the flames flicker in the fireplace.
‘Do you think you’ll still be saying that after I send you out at 6 a.m. to break the ice on the trough?’ She was only half-teasing. All this was so different to the life Javier was used to, and it wasn’t just the cold weather. It was the small village, the fact that there was no wonderful beach, no happy buzz of constant activity.
‘Hey.’ He put an arm round her. ‘How can I not enjoy breaking ice if you’re next to me?’
‘Do you think we’ll be here next year?’
‘No.’ He traced a finger down her forehead, her nose, stopping when he got to her lips. ‘We’ll be in Barcelona.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I think we can be together, if it’s what you want.’ His tone was soft. ‘I’m not saying I don’t like a bit of sunshine, a walk on the beach, but I’m not rooted anywhere, Daisy.’
‘Hippy cat.’
‘Less of the cat, if you don’t mind. Honest, though, we can find a way to make this work. You want to do more, go to new places – well, we can do it together.’
Daisy smiled. Her mother could have been right about knowing when she’d found the right person. She still wasn’t quite sure what the next twelve months would look like, but that was good. Next year was about the new Daisy, the one who didn’t feel she had her whole life planned out. ‘Mum said that she and Dad can look after Barney and Mabel if I want to go away.’
‘I like your parents – they’re great.’
‘They are pretty good, aren’t they?’ She grinned. ‘Do you want to see my new list?’
‘List?’ Javier rolled his eyes.
‘Well you didn’t think I could stop writing them just like that, did you?’ She giggled at the look on his face. ‘And if you’re going to come with me on my trips, you do need to know what I’ve got in mind.’
‘I do?’
‘You do. For packing purposes. It’s not all flip-flops where I’m going, you know.’ There was a loud bang and Daisy jumped up, pulling him over to the window, where they could get a wonderful view of the dramatic firework display.
‘Where on earth?’
‘It’s over at Tipping House. They have a massive display every year and I reckon we’ve got the best view from here.’
‘I certainly have.’ He pulled her in closer to him. ‘One I’d like to explore in more detail.’
‘You’re being rude, aren’t you?’ She glanced up at him.
‘I certainly am.’
‘There is one minor problem. Well, quite a major one, actually.’
‘Which is?’
‘Mabel. She’s terrified of fireworks. At a guess, right now she’ll be under the duvet.’
He laughed. ‘I guess if I take you on, then it’s the animals as well?’
‘It certainly is. Come on, let’s see how masterful you are with an Irish Wolfhound.’
Chapter 28 – Flo. New Year, new start?
Hugo did debonair very well. His long, lightly muscled legs looked perfect in close-fitting chinos and boots, his scarf wrapped ever-so-casually around his neck, his jacket open. He was dangling a bottle of champagne from one hand, the other holding hers.
‘You’d almost pass as a Barcelonian, the vintage champagne’s a bit of a giveaway, though.’
‘One should never lower one’s standards, Miss Nightingale. So how much further is it?’
‘Not far, follow the crowds.’
They strolled along the front, gazed at the boats in Port Vell harbour, then waited to cross the road, watching the scooters weaving in and out of the traffic. ‘We turn right just after Christopher Columbus and head all the way up Paral-lel.’
As they walked up the wide Avinguda del Paral-lel, it started to get busier, everybody heading in the same direction, some already tipsy, some sober, some old, some young and Flo felt the same sense of anticipation she always did as they approached midnight: a new year, new promises, and hope. Except this time the feeling was heightened; this time she wasn’t quite sure what she should be wishing for. She just knew it had to be better. More real.
This time last year she’d been hoping that Oli would propose, that she’d be getting married. And it had been for all the wrong reasons. It had all been about appearances, not real love. It had taken a trip back to Tippermere to find that.
She glanced sideways at Hugo as the truth of what she’d been thinking hit her.
She’d fallen in love; it had crept up on her, he’d crept up on her, sneaked under her defences. Made her happier and more confident than she’d ever been.
He caught her watching him, raised an eyebrow, and winked. They strolled on in sil
ence, watching the people around them, swinging their joined hands, until at last Placa Espanya was in sight.
It was already busy as they weaved their way through the crowds, heading for the centre, where they could get a good view of the firework display.
The volume of the music increased, the ever-growing crowd pushed them closer together, and Hugo put a protective arm around her.
‘I wonder where we’ll be next year?’ She voiced the thought that had been on her mind, but didn’t expect an answer.
‘London. I’m doing Olympia at Christmas, then staying over for New Year.’
‘Really?’ Did that mean him, or them?
‘You need to see this whole firework thing done properly – we have a history of decent displays.’
‘For dodgy reasons.’
‘There is nothing wrong with dodgy, apart from this music.’
‘Shush.’ She giggled. ‘Pour the bubbly.’
‘It isn’t quite midnight.’
‘Maybe not, but who says we shouldn’t start celebrating early? And anyway it’s well into the new year UK time.’ She needed a drink, needed to make the most of their time together.
‘Such a rebel.’ He fished the glasses out of his bag and passed them to her. ‘So how do we do this?’
‘Well, you open and pour. I’ll hold the glasses.’
‘No, I mean this.’
She looked at him, his fingers twisting the wire that held the cork in place, his gaze not meeting hers and he looked so boyishly attractive it brought a lump to her throat. She was scared of ‘this’, she didn’t want to lose him – say goodbye – but she didn’t want to lose the new her either.
‘I don’t really do half-measures Flo.’ The cork popped and people turned. Smiling faces, but all she could see was his serious one as he poured the champagne. So did this mean that they either did things his way or not at all? ‘I’m a fill-it-to-the-brim type of person.’ He looked up then, his piercing gaze freezing her in place. Her heart was pounding in her ears, the thump, thump of her pulse blocking out everything but him. ‘Until now. I don’t expect you to come home with me, Florence, but I’m trying to work out how to play this.’
The crowd pressed closer as midnight neared. The countdown started. People jostled her elbows as she held the two glasses. Studied him. A pulse throbbed in his temple, there was the slightest tremor in the hand that held the bottle, and it suddenly dawned on her that he was nervous. Hugo was as scared about this as she was.
She swallowed hard, cleared her throat.
When she’d first met Hugo she’d done all she could to avoid falling under his spell, and then she’d got to know him. Caught a glimpse of the real Hugo and fallen in love with it. With him. Walking away without a second glance was something she couldn’t do, but he’d given her something. He’d given her a bit of herself back, the Flo that had confidence, that had dreams, and she didn’t want to let go of that. She couldn’t, or she’d be heading right back to where she’d been with Oli. The perfect life that was actually just a façade. ‘I can’t just leave Barcelona.’
‘I know. I’m not asking you to.’ They were jostled, pressed even closer, the champagne bottle clinking against the glasses. ‘I don’t want you to, Flo. I want you the way you are, and you’re not just some yes girl.’
But she oh-so nearly had been; the girl that had wanted to say yes to a proposal from Oli, the girl who’d gone along with everything he’d wanted.
Hugo was saying he understood her, and he seemed to, but … ‘You’ve got the horses.’ She couldn’t just be somebody’s groom, slotting neatly into his life. No way was she making that mistake again, even though it would be oh-so easy.
‘I have, but I compete all over the world. There’ll be times…’
‘I’ve got a book to finish.’
‘I know, and I want to be there on launch day, holding back the crowds.’
A shiver ran through her body. He was saying the words as though he meant them. Believed in every one. As though they could make it possible. Make it work. As a team.
‘You’ll hate my tiny apartment.’
‘We can get a bigger one.’ He grinned, as though sensing that she didn’t want him to offer all the solutions, to run her life. ‘Once you’re a bestselling author, that is, and have some dosh, and we can balance it with time in my big house.’
‘I might get jealous of your horses and your groupies.’
‘Then you’ll have to come and groom for me now and again, give them your special glare. The girls, not the horses – don’t you ever dare try and scare my horses.’
She laughed then. It was hard to imagine what kind of life they could have together, but it was getting hard to imagine one without Hugo in it too. Unconventional was the word that jumped out right now.
‘So, Miss Nightingale, I’m still not sure if you’re ready.’ He looked the full-on cocky and arrogant Hugo again now, the Hugo she’d fallen for.
‘Ready?’ She held one glass out to him. ‘Well, I don’t know what I’m supposed to be ready for, but I’d like to find a way to do stuff together, see if we can make it work. Except…’
‘Except?’
‘If you call me Miss Nightingale again I will hog your favourite horse.’
He stood still for what seemed an eternity. The crowd chanted – the countdown got lower. She was half expecting him to say he’d changed his mind. Then he took the glass.
He took a deep breath, his eyes searching over every inch of her face as though he was trying to memorise it, draw a picture of this moment in his head. ‘Florence, I bought this bottle of decent champagne for a reason and I hate to not ask now it’s opened.’
She looked at him, slightly confused.
‘I tend to agree that Nightingale doesn’t really suit you. I thought James might be better.’
‘James?’ Now she was confused.
‘I was wondering if now was a good time to ask you to marry me, but I’m really not sure whether you realise it’s what you want yet, or whether I need to wait until you’ve finished that book of yours.’ He paused. ‘And you get chance to realise that I really am as perfect as it gets.’ The corner of his mouth twitched, but he looked surprisingly earnest.
‘And as pompous and arrogant?’
‘And as pompous and arrogant.’ He grinned.
‘You’re being serious?’ Flo stared, letting the words sink in, the words she’d been dying to hear just a few months ago. From a different man. Then she shook her head and smiled. Only Hugo would dare ask for the answer before he asked the question. ‘And you think that’s all that would stop me saying yes,’ she really was trying not to laugh, ‘just finishing my book? Nothing to do with whether I want to marry you or not?’
‘Well, what else would stop you?’ He was looking as devilish as he ever had, but did she detect just the faintest hint of doubt in that arrogant tone?
‘Oh, Hugo.’ She shook her head again. ‘You really are amazing.’
‘I am being serious, Flo.’ His tone had sobered. ‘As well as a pompous, arrogant, and amazing man; you’ll get somebody who really loves you.’
She stared, feeling light-headed, dazed. He’d said it. He’d said he loved her and he’d proposed.
‘We’ll drink to that then, shall we?’ He linked his arm around hers, not waiting for a response. ‘But no promises on the Nightingale front. I’m still going to call you that for now.’ The bubbles fizzed in the back of her throat as they drank, so close they were almost touching, and the moment she moved the glass away his mouth was there. Dropping the sweetest, gentlest of kisses on her lips. ‘Until you come to your senses and know that you really don’t want to say anything but yes. Happy New Year, Flo.’
As people started to move they went with the flow, being carried out of the square. ‘I’m glad I’ve seen you on your own territory – it suits you.’ Hugo waved the arm that wasn’t draped round her shoulders. ‘All this. Barcelona.’
‘It does.’ She smiled,
it really did. She loved the countryside, but she loved her adopted home as well. She liked the buzz, the people, the fiestas, the energy. ‘Do you think it would suit you?’ It was fingers-crossed, breath-holding time. He knew she wanted to say yes, knew she wanted to marry him, but he also seemed to realise that she needed to test the waters. Be sure she was doing the right thing.
‘I’m pretty adaptable.’ He shrugged, but his dimples had deepened. ‘I’ll try anything if it’s an attractive enough proposition.’ He paused and spun her round. ‘And from where I’m looking this one looks more than attractive.’
‘I will come back to Cheshire soon, maybe in a month when I’ve sorted the apartment?’
‘You better had.’ He grinned. ‘Besides,’ he smiled, ‘you don’t think I’m going to miss you typing The End on your novel, do you? I really need to know what happens to that naked chef, and I rather think you’ll have to head back soon for more inspiration.’
Flo went on tiptoes and kissed his full mouth. ‘I rather think you could be right, Mr James.’ She dropped down onto her heels, then traced a fingertip over his generous lips, knowing she could say it now. ‘Oh Hugo, I love you too.’
THE END
Enjoy a Winter Break in Barcelona…
I love Barcelona, and being able to spend so much time out here is a dream come true for me. I’m a bit of a country girl (like Daisy) so I need a place where I can escape the crowds, as well as soak up some culture. Barcelona is the perfect city – it has large stores, chic boutiques, incredible architecture, and a beautiful beach. It’s sophisticated and glamorous, and yet also wonderfully laid back. In the winter it’s still warm enough to stroll in a light jacket (although the Spanish will be wrapped up in scarves and thick jackets!). So where better for country girl Daisy to start her adventure?
Here are just a few of my suggestions for enjoying a winter stay in Barcelona. I’ll be posting lots more on my website – so please do join me there as well www.ZaraStoneley.com
Sample the cava at El Xampanyet (on Carrer de Montcada). It’s a really cool tapas bar that is popular with locals as well as tourists. In ‘The Holiday Swap’ this is where Daisy and Anna spend their first evening with Flo. I love the colourful tiles on the walls and can spend ages studying all the artefacts hung around the walls – I spot something new every time I go. And you really should sample the house cava!
The Holiday Swap Page 30