House Swap

by Olivia Beirne

  Dad shuffles into the wooden chair at the head of the table and smiles at me.

  ‘Sorry,’ he laughs, wiping the corners of his eyes, ‘I just can’t stop looking at you. You’re so grown up.’

  I smile awkwardly, feeling my cheeks flush as I look down at my tea.

  There are so many elephants in this room, we might as well be at the circus.

  ‘Yeah,’ I say, ‘I mean, there are some obvious changes . . .’

  I gesture down to my bump.

  ‘Bet you didn’t know you were about to be a grandad.’

  I hear myself laugh awkwardly, as though I’ve admitted that I’m arriving with a big, ugly secret. The realisation shocks me and I grip my hand onto my bump.

  I’m not ashamed of you.

  ‘I know!’ Dad laughs. ‘I can’t believe it! It’s fantastic! I bet Danny is so excited. Is he back from his latest cruise yet?’

  His words hang in the air and I stare down at my tea, my hands gripped so tightly around the mug that they start to burn. Dad’s smile droops.

  ‘Rachel?’ he says, trying to catch my eye. ‘What is it?’

  I lift my head to look at him, but when I try to speak, my mouth feels as though it’s full of sand. Slowly Dad’s expression changes and he nods.

  ‘Ah,’ he says, ‘I see. I’m sorry, love.’

  ‘It’s not his,’ I manage. ‘He doesn’t even know.’

  The shame burns through me as I hear the words spoken aloud, and my clammy hands peel away from the mug.

  ‘Who does know?’

  ‘Nobody.’

  Dad raises his eyebrows. ‘Nobody?’ he repeats. ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’m scared I can’t do it,’ I mumble. ‘I’m scared I’ll be a bad mum. I—’

  ‘Hey.’ I jump as Dad’s voice cuts through me, thick with his Welsh accent as he leans forward and grips my hand. ‘You will be a great mum.’

  I try and control my tears, which are now streaming down my face.

  ‘Even though I’m bringing this baby into a broken family?’ I say quietly, finally voicing one of my deepest fears, which rumbles in the pit of my stomach as I hear it out loud.

  For a second Dad doesn’t speak, but his grip stays firm on mine.

  ‘Just because a family doesn’t look how you thought it might doesn’t make it broken.’

  I pull my gaze up to meet his, my stomach turning over as his bright eyes stare fiercely into mine. Guilt rolls through me as I look into his kind face, and I realise how much I have needed this. How much I have needed my dad.

  ‘I’m so sorry I never returned your calls.’

  He gives my hand a firm squeeze and winks at me.

  ‘You’re here now,’ he says. ‘That’s what matters.’

  *

  Great bubbles of red liquid stretch and pop in the saucepan, and I turn my wooden spoon, gently stirring the sauce. Stacks of new Tupperware sit next to me, all shiny and new, not stained red like mine are.

  As I stir the pot, a lightness spreads through my body. Ever since I left Dad’s, the fear I’ve been carrying around hasn’t felt so heavy. I ended up staying for hours, sitting at his kitchen table and chatting.

  Whilst I was there, I took a good look around. His Welsh rugby scarf was still tacked to his bedroom wall, and Katy’s pottery sat proudly on almost every surface. There were more signs of Katy in his flat than there are in the lodge: photos of them at the cinema, out for dinner, waving Welsh flags and watching the rugby World Cup on his cream sofa. As I looked at Katy’s beaming face, I felt an ice-cold rush through me. All she wanted was for me to forgive Dad and allow us to be a family, but I refused. I didn’t even want to know. I didn’t care how much it hurt my dad or how much she needed me. And now I’m terrified she’ll do the same to me.

  I jump back as the sauce splats at me, and turn the heat down.

  Tomorrow my time in London is up and I go back to Wales. Whether I like it or not, and no matter how much I bury my head in the sand, this baby is coming. I can’t keep it from Katy for much longer. Dad promised me he wouldn’t say a word, but in a few weeks I won’t be able to pretend it isn’t real. A living, breathing human is hard to keep secret.

  I turn my phone in my hand as Peggy’s latest message shines up at me.

  Met the famous Katy! She seems nice. Don’t worry, I didn’t talk to her about anything. Although I think you should. She’s just like you.

  I chew my lip as another message pops onto the screen.

  Also, have you had a chance to try any of those vaginal stretches? I found this fab diagram online, I’ll ping it over now.

  Good God, the last thing I want is Peggy sending a diagram of vaginal stretches to my work email account. How will I explain that to IT when I’m called in for receiving inappropriate content?

  There is a knock at the door and I turn to see Fiona’s shadow. I wave at her to come in, turning down the heat under the sauce.

  ‘Hi, Rachel.’ She smiles. ‘Oh, something smells nice!’

  She gawps at the stacks of Tupperware and I feel my chest stretch with pride.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘I just decided to fill Katy’s freezer with some bits. I like cooking.’

  ‘I can see.’ She perches on the arm of the sofa. ‘Have you heard much from Katy? Is she enjoying Wales?’

  My heart twinges, and the guilt flutters again.

  ‘Yes,’ I say, ‘although I think she’s found it hard not working. I think she’s been a bit anxious about it.’

  I glance at Fiona to try and catch her reaction, but she’s busy examining her hands, frowning at a smudge of something on her pillar-box-red nails. She starts to rub it off.

  ‘Oh?’ she says absent-mindedly.

  ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Did you see an email from her? I don’t know what it was about, but she mentioned—’

  ‘Yes.’ Fiona cuts me off, her voice now cold and businesslike. ‘I did receive it, Rachel. I will take a look at it.’

  I close my mouth. She’s made it clear that I’m not to ask any more questions. A damp heat prickles up my neck and my hands grip onto my sides as I suddenly feel as though I’ve just made things worse.

  ‘Great,’ I say, trying to keep my voice bright, ‘thank you. She’ll be back late tomorrow anyway,’ I add.

  Fiona flicks her eyes up at me. ‘Is it tomorrow you’re going?’

  I nod. ‘Tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Oh, well let’s have a farewell dinner then!’ she cries, the warm, hospitable Fiona back. ‘I’m sure Jasmine and William will want to say goodbye. Unless you wanted to go out?’ She stands up. ‘Actually see London outside of Chiswick? We could go to the theatre!’

  I try not to laugh as she flings her arms in the air and then almost instantly drops them back down.

  ‘Oh no.’ Her face falls. ‘It’s Jasmine’s school play tonight. Oh, I can’t believe we’re busy. I’m never busy.’

  She runs her fingers through her hair, looking genuinely annoyed, and for some reason I feel a wave of disappointment.

  ‘Honestly, it’s fine,’ I say. ‘You’ve done so much for me already. I wouldn’t expect—’

  ‘I know!’ she cries, clapping her hands and making me jump. ‘Let’s have an early dinner at four. The show doesn’t start until six. How’s that?’

  I blink. She really wants to see me that badly?

  ‘Oh,’ I say, ‘sure. That sounds lovely.’

  The bright smile Fiona often wears springs back onto her face and she turns and totters out of the lodge.

  ‘See you then!’ she sings. ‘I’ll pop out and buy some goodies. Did you know they do vegan ice cream now?’ she adds, sticking her head back in and raising her eyebrows. I laugh and nod as she looks at me as though this information is worth a round of applause.

  ‘Sounds great,’ I say. ‘See you then.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  KATY

  I laugh as Bruno gallops ahead of me, pummelling his legs into the ground and charging through
the fields at full force. It’s as though he’s never been on a walk in his life, although this is one I took out of Rachel’s manual as being in his ‘top three favourites’. I rolled my eyes when she first sent me the list (like, come on, he’s a dog!). But watching him leap across the fields and dance with the swaying stalks of grass, she may have a point.

  He stops running and stares at me, panting heavily, waiting for me to follow.

  ‘I’m here!’ I say, another laugh spilling out of me. ‘I’m coming. I’m just not as fast as you are.’

  Bruno takes this as fact and bounds off again through the fields.

  I’m also not as relaxed. Me and Isaac practically pulled an all-nighter in that shed, and it wasn’t until the final candle flickered out that we realised that maybe we should go inside.

  I tuck my hands in my coat pockets.

  I shouldn’t have slept with him. I knew that the moment it happened, but a large part of me didn’t care. As soon as he arrived with the clay, the feelings I’ve been trying to fight took over, and for the first time since I arrived in Wales, I allowed myself just to love him. To be honest, I’m not sure I ever stopped; I just knew that I shouldn’t. I’m not staying in Wales, and long-distance relationships don’t work. One person ends up giving up on the other; look at me and Rachel.

  We haven’t spoken about it. He left early to go to the farm and I managed to steal a few hours’ sleep before Bruno’s desperate barking snapped me awake.

  The sun is bright and slices through the clouds, making me squint, but there is a cool nip to the air. I take a deep breath, pushing the fresh air deep into my lungs, and shut my eyes, turning my face up to the sun. I feel my shoulders drop as I glance down at my phone, free of any messages from Rachel. Ever since our last conversation, I have felt a horrible niggle in the pit of my stomach that something isn’t quite right.

  My brain has been working overtime since I hung up the phone to her on Wednesday, desperately trying to piece together memories over the years like a mad detective. When was the last time I saw her in person? When was the last time I saw Danny? When was the last time we did a video call, instead of an email or text? Did she sound happy? How did she look?

  It never occurred to me that she might be alone here, even though I knew Danny worked away for the majority of the year. I was the one who moved to a scary new city all by myself. I was the one who left my family, friends and boyfriend behind. I was the one who should be lonely, not her.

  But a louder voice pierces through my mind.

  Why would she take down the photos of Danny?

  I dig my hands deeper in my coat pockets.

  Have they split? Is that what she’s been hiding? Has he left her?

  I rub my forehead with the back of my hand as Bruno speeds towards me, checking I’m still following him. Poor thing, I probably scared him half to death when I lost him. I can’t lose him this time; I’d never get back home.

  I squint into the sun as Bruno leaps up at two figures in the distance. As they step closer, I recognise one of them immediately as Ellie, and feel a twinge of guilt. Last time I saw her, I was trying to log on to that stupid Wi-Fi and I was hardly conversationalist of the year. Actually, I think I was downright rude.

  I push a large smile onto my face as I reach them, Bruno skirting between us like he’s introducing everyone.

  ‘Hi, Ellie,’ I say, holding my hand above my eyes to block out the sun.

  ‘Oh,’ Ellie says. ‘Hi, Katy, I thought you were Rachel when I saw Bruno. This is Sadie.’ She turns to the girl next to her, who has bright pink hair and a nose ring. ‘Katy is Rachel Dower’s sister.’

  Sadie pulls a face of recognition and smiles at me.

  ‘Is Rachel with you?’ Ellie says hopefully.

  ‘No,’ I reply, ‘she’s still in London.’

  ‘Is she all right?’ Sadie asks. ‘We haven’t seen her in ages.’

  My stomach flips over.

  I have no idea.

  ‘Yeah,’ I say brightly. ‘Did you know it was her birthday a few weeks ago?’ I move my eyes back to Ellie, who stares back at me, her face indignant.

  ‘Of course!’ she says. ‘We all messaged her to try and arrange something, but she didn’t reply.’

  ‘Well,’ Sadie interjects, ‘she sort of did. She just brushed us off.’

  Another piece of the puzzle slides into my mind and I bite my lip.

  Why would she do that? I know Rachel can be shy, but she’s not antisocial. She loves her friends.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket.

  ‘Can I take your numbers?’ I ask, passing the phone to Ellie, who looks at it dubiously. ‘I want to plan something.’

  As I take the phone back, a message appears on the screen. It’s from Isaac.

  Are you free tonight? I’d like to make you dinner. I can cook now, you know. See, another surprise you’ll love.

  *

  I look at myself in the mirror for the fourteenth time and squirm with embarrassment at my reflection. I gave myself two hours; that’s how long it takes me to get ready for a day in the office with Fiona or a big work event. Normally I’ll spend at least an hour straightening my naturally wavy hair within an inch of its life. Then I’ll smother my face in thick pale foundation to mask my freckles, like I’m drowning them in cream. I’ll spend about twenty minutes carefully drawing my eyebrows in place to ensure that they are perfectly symmetrical, and then I’ll apply a set of pointy fake eyelashes, in the hope that nobody will notice that they’re not the eyelash extensions all the other girls wear but I can’t quite afford.

  But today, I didn’t feel like flattening my hair or hiding my freckles. I even found myself liking them, and so getting ready only involved a flick of mascara and a swipe of pale lipstick. I haven’t gone out like that since I moved to London.

  The outfit took much longer to construct. I hadn’t packed any date outfits; why on earth would I? If I’d suspected that Isaac would be lurking next door, I would have manhandled the train driver and driven us all back to London.

  So I’ve gone for skinny jeans and a fitted lacy top. I think I look okay.

  Bruno lets out a yelp and I jump, clutching my hand to my chest.

  I will never get used to him doing that.

  I turn to look at him sitting on the sofa staring at me.

  ‘What do you think?’ I say, trying to squash the nerves fluttering in the pit of my stomach. ‘Do I look okay?’

  I raise my eyebrows as Bruno blinks back at me, silent.

  Oh, so now he doesn’t bark.

  ‘Useless,’ I mutter, grabbing my handbag. I make my way to the front door and grab the keys off the hook. Bruno scrabbles after me, but I shoot him a look.

  ‘We’ve spoken about this,’ I say. ‘You can’t come with me everywhere. I’ll be back later.’

  Why on earth am I talking to this dog like he can understand me? Is this what Rachel does? It’s like having a child.

  I click the front door shut and start walking down the garden path.

  I shouldn’t be going on this date. I should have said no. Nothing good will come of it. I’m leaving tomorrow and going back to London. But as soon as Isaac asked me, a stronger feeling took over and the voice inside me screaming to do the sensible thing was silenced. I wanted to say yes. I wanted to spend more time with him. So that’s what I’m going to do.

  He pulls open the door and I feel my heart turn over as he smiles at me. He’s wearing a checked shirt and jeans, and as he leans in for a hug, I get a whiff of his manly aftershave.

  ‘You look nice,’ he says, looking me right in the eyes. I can’t help it; the grin I was trying to keep at bay splits across my face and I beam at him.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say, stepping inside his house.

  ‘So,’ he says, as I push off my shoes, ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I thought I’d cook us fish. I went down to the fishmonger’s this morning.’

  He hands me a glass of wine and I take it, resisting the te
mptation to neck it in one gulp in the hope of silencing my jittering nerves.

  He lifts his own glass and we chink them together.

  *

  I place my knife and fork down, allowing my body to sink back into my chair as my stomach stretches in appreciation.

  Isaac places a final piece of sea bream into his mouth and I smile at him.

  ‘That was delicious,’ I say, my voice slow and relaxed. ‘I haven’t had sea bream in years.’

  He frowns at me. ‘Why not?’

  ‘I just never eat it in London. Fish is better by the sea.’

  He nods in agreement as he swallows his mouthful.

  ‘I’ve got something for you,’ he says, reaching behind him and pulling out a box.

  ‘Another present?’ I laugh. ‘You can’t keep buying me things.’

  He smiles and hands me a box. ‘This is more of an IOU.’

  I take it from him.

  ‘What have you bought me?’ I ask.

  He shrugs. ‘Well open it and you’ll find out.’

  I slowly unfold the gold paper that is wrapped around the box and gasp as an Apple Watch box peers up at me.

  He bought me an Apple Watch?

  ‘Isaac,’ I breathe, ‘I can’t accept this; these are really expensive.’

  I feel a stab of worry as I look back up at him. I know how much they cost. Fiona gave me hers when she got a new one for Christmas. I’d never be able to afford one brand new.

  ‘Well I should have thought about that before I threw yours into the sea.’ He grins as he gets to his feet, taking our plates with him. I look down at the box and smile.

  ‘You can even hack into my internet if you want,’ he says. ‘I know how obsessed you are with emails.’

  I roll my eyes in his direction but waste no time in setting up the watch and tapping in Isaac’s Wi-Fi password.

  ‘Rachel would be so mad if she knew I’d done that,’ he laughs from the kitchen. ‘You know how much work she does to keep our beaches clean, and there I am openly lobbing stuff into the sea.’

  For a second I forget about the watch. I turn in my seat to face him.

  ‘Isaac,’ I say, ‘can I talk to you about something?’