The Holiday Swap: The perfect feel good romance for fans of the Christmas movie The Holiday

By the time Flo had heard all about Carol’s fun in Paris they were airborne, and the drinks trolley was jangling its way down the aisle.

‘I think we need a little drinky to cheer us up, don’t we?’ She patted Flo’s knee and, ignoring her protests, proceeded to order a mountain of snacks and drinks. ‘Here you are, love,’ she emptied the contents of a bottle into the plastic cup and added a splash of Coke, ‘I got you a couple of bottles of Bacardi. They’re only tiny little things, aren’t they? Cheers, me dears, drink up!’

Flo drank up and blinked, feeling surprisingly light-headed, which could have been to do with the altitude, or the fact that she really couldn’t put the drink away as fast as Carol.

‘Oh, now look at this.’ Carol had moved onto her magazine, and Flo squinted and tried to concentrate on something other than her disastrous life. ‘He’s a looker, isn’t he?’

Flo nodded dumbly at the photograph of George Clooney. Yes, like Oli. He was a looker alright, and a talker.

‘Makes it too easy for them, doesn’t it?’ Carol turned the page round so she could examine the picture more closely. ‘If they haven’t got looks then they have to work at it, makes them nicer, that’s what my mother always said. And those lookers go to seed, you know. Then what have you got left?’

‘George Clooney hasn’t gone to seed.’

‘Well there has to be the odd exception.’

‘Nor has Harrison Ford,’ chipped in dreadlocks girl, who had removed her earphones at some point, ‘he looked hot in Star Wars.’

‘They’re not real life though, are they, duck? You don’t know what work goes into making them look like that. Worse than women they are, all titivated up.’

Flo sighed. Maybe Oli hadn’t been real life, and the idea of him losing his looks and going to seed cheered her up a bit.

‘Oh look, we’re nearly there. I’m quite looking forward to this, like my mam always said, a change of scene works wonders.’

Flo stared out of the window. A change of scene, a complete change of scene, was probably just what she needed right now. She just had to work out what it looked like.

***

As the airplane touched down at Barcelona airport, Flo didn’t feel quite so tearful. The two double Bacardi and Cokes, plus the glass of Prosecco had taken her from the ‘he’s a bastard and I want to cry’ stage, to the much healthier ‘I’m better off without him (maybe) and I hope him and his hussy burn in hell’ stage. After swaying in the aisle of the plane for twenty minutes waiting to disembark, spending ten minutes in a queue for passport control and an impossibly long time (impossibly because her bladder was about to burst) waiting in line for the toilets, her alcoholic haze had lifted and all she wanted to do was go home, get so drunk she couldn’t see straight, and cry.

Chapter 5 - Daisy and Anna. Barcelona

Daisy was wrestling with a wet and very randy Dalmatian, and trying to ignore her hangover, when Anna reappeared the day after ‘the proposal’ – practically bouncing with her news.

‘God, Daisy, what are you doing to that dog?’

‘It’s more a question of what it’s trying to do to me. He wants to bonk everything with a pulse. Just hold him round the neck and look stern can you?’

‘Like a Dalamatrix?’

‘Very funny.’ She grabbed the shower head while the dog was actually still, and soon had him soaked to the skin and lathered up. There were days when she really thought her dog-grooming business should cater for nothing bigger than a poodle, and nothing with balls.

‘Anyway,’ Anna hung on as the dog made a bid for freedom, ‘I came to tell you it’s all sorted. Your big adventure is on; you’re visiting Florence!’

‘I am?’ She stopped mid-lather, which was handy. If she’d still had the shower head in her hand, then Anna might well have been soaked.

‘You are.’

It sounded rather final. ‘Don’t I get a say in this?’

Anna relaxed her hold on the dog in surprise and it was halfway out of the bath, and she was drenched, by the time Daisy made a grab for its collar. ‘Well yeah, of course. I just thought you’d like the idea…’

‘Florence, that’s in Italy, isn’t it? I thought it was expensive there,’ she sighed, ‘you know I’m broke.’ Anna giggled and got a firm hold on the dog again, relief flooding her face. But Daisy hardly noticed. ‘I’d been thinking maybe I should go to France first on the ferry. You know, a little village.’ With cute cafés where she could settle down with a book. ‘And beaches.’

‘Daisy?’

The more she’d thought about going away, the more she wanted to do it. But she was afraid of different, too different. Maybe she needed to think this through – it was fine thinking she needed to live a bit, but she’d been thinking of starting off with baby steps.

‘I was thinking somewhere on the coast, and Florence isn’t, is it?’ She’d only just scraped a pass at GCSE Geography.

‘Daisy will you let me finish, you dafty? You’re going to see Flo the person, not the place. Flo, remember?’

Daisy stopped trying to scrub the spots off the dog and looked at Anna in confusion. ‘Flo? But she lives in Barcelona doesn’t she? Or has she moved?’

‘Yep she does, and no she hasn’t. It was you who mentioned Italy, not me.’

Daisy decided it would be a waste of breath correcting her. ‘That’s Spain.’

‘Genius.’ Anna grinned, pleased with herself. ‘Barcelona’s got a beach, and it’s better than being stuck out in the sticks. Anyhow, December is hardly sunbathing weather and it’ll be freezing in France.’

‘Have you actually mentioned this to Flo? I mean, I’ve hardly spoken to her for ages and I thought she had this hectic high-flying lifestyle.’

Totally unlike her own. Totally unlike any other inhabitant of Tippermere. They might have gone to the same primary school, played kiss chase with the same boys and even hit puberty and agonised over their A levels together. But there all similarities had ended abruptly. Daisy had stayed in the village and Flo had swanned off to Barcelona with her Spanish mother, who had decided that she couldn’t cope with the damp English weather any longer.

‘The last Facebook status I read of hers she was going on about this Michelin starred restaurant she’d been to, and how fab the magazine she’d set up with her boyfriend was.’ And she’d hinted at spring weddings on the beach. Weddings had been the last thing on Daisy’s mind (up to a few days ago), and her extent of fine dining with Jimmy was limited to the village pub. Which was very nice, but they didn’t tend to have ‘foams’ or ‘amuse-bouches’ as far as she could recall – unless you counted pork crackling. ‘I know we’re still friends, but it just looks so glam, her lifestyle. Are you sure she’d want me gate-crashing?’

‘Well, actually, I do speak to her now and again, and I did ask her, and she does want you to go. It’s perfect because she said you can stay at her place for as long as you want and—’

‘But doesn’t her boyfriend mind?’ She was pretty sure she’d screwed her face up in a way only animals found attractive, but she was positive Flo had posted pictures of a guy on Facebook: a very attractive, well-groomed, sophisticated kind of guy. So unlike the type you found in Tippermere. ‘I’ll feel a real gooseberry.’

‘That’s the “and” bit. She’s just split up with him.’

‘But I thought they were on the verge of getting married.’ Daisy, who had been towelling the dog, stopped.

‘So did she, and she caught him with somebody else.’

‘You’re kidding!’ That was nearly as big a shock as Jimmy waving a diamond ring in the air. ‘Really?’

‘Really, as in shagging her in the next hotel room.’

‘Oh no. What a bastard. Oh, poor Flo.’

‘So you’ve got to go. She needs somebody to talk to, take her mind off it.’

‘Needs me?’ Daisy’s stomach gave a flip, which could have been nerves or excitement. She wasn’t sure. A trip to Barcelona would be brilliant, and it would be lovely to see Flo again. See how the other half lived.

‘Yep. So I told her you can go at the end of next week.’

An involuntary squeal escaped from Daisy’s lips. ‘Next week? But, I can’t…’

‘Whatever you were about to say, you can. Jimmy said he’d give you December, so it’s perfect. You need to just get on with it, Daisy. You haven’t got time to mess about, before you know it Christmas will be here, and then what?’

A family announcement. Wedding dresses. Bridal bouquets. Oh God, that word ‘bridal’ it just sounded weird when it was applied to you instead of somebody else. She needed to do something, but how on earth could this work? Next week! ‘But what about Barney and Mabel? I can’t just leave them, and what if the pipes freeze? And…’

‘Jimmy can look after the place for a few days, and your menagerie.’

‘But I can’t ask—’

‘Yes, you bloody can ask him, it was his idea you do it, or,’ her eyes gleamed, ‘if you don’t want to ask Jimmy, you can ask Hugo.’

‘No!’ No way was she going to ask pompous, disapproving Hugo to look after her dog, or wilful horse.

Anna was waiting, grinning, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

‘Okay, I’ll ask Jimmy, I suppose.’ She was feeling guilty even before she’d gone anywhere.

‘Good. It’s only for a few days, well as many as you like. Daisy, stop feeling guilty.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You are.’

She was. ‘I haven’t even got a passport though, so I don’t see how I can go that soon.’

‘We’ll get you one tomorrow. Come on, before you chicken out. Flo needs you right now,’ Daisy thought she might be stretching the truth on that one, Flo had always had lots of friends when they were at school, ‘and she knows the city and all the in-places to go. Look, it’s an ideal opportunity with having somewhere to stay, it won’t cost you hardly anything. We can sort a flight dirt cheap and you don’t need many spends.’

‘I’m not chickening out, I’m just being practical. I’ve got lots of customers booked in and I can’t just abandon them.’

‘Oh Daisy, I’m not trying to force you if you really don’t want, I just thought… I can always tell Flo… well, I suppose I could go instead.’

‘Don’t you dare tell Flo anything. You don’t think I’m going to let you go off and have all that fun without me, do you?’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘I’m being pathetic, it’s only for a long weekend, I’m sure Jimmy will sort stuff here, after all it was his idea, wasn’t it? And if he really does love me, he won’t mind helping out.’ She grinned. ‘Oh, God, he’ll think I’ve gone crazy.’

‘Well that’ll solve your problem then,’ Anna grinned, ‘he might un-propose.’

***

The next day Anna drove her to Liverpool to get a passport (which cost far more than she’d budgeted for), then they looked at flights, which turned out not to be exactly dirt-cheap after all. And now the butterflies were doing loop-the-loops in her stomach. There was no turning back.

She knew she had a stupid grin on her face as she put the kettle on. God she was pathetic to be so excited about a few days in Spain; anybody would think she was five years old.

Anna hung her sodden coat over the kitchen chair. Water dripped off, then ran in rivulets over the quarry tiles of Daisy’s kitchen floor, coming to a stop when they hit Mabel’s rug. ‘I swear if it doesn’t stop raining soon I’ll be coming to Spain too.’

Daisy shrugged. Even the rain wasn’t bothering her that much today, although it had made the motorway trip slightly scary, especially the way Anna drove. ‘The chickens hate it. They’re all huddled together in a sodden heap, refusing to lay.’ They had stared at her accusingly with their beady little eyes, looking very bedraggled and sorry for themselves when she’d checked up on them before they’d headed off.

‘Well at least it won’t be raining in Barcelona.’

‘No, Flo’s probably sitting in the sun.’ Daisy had to admit she was a teeny bit envious of Flo right now. She didn’t have a problem with a bit of rain, but this was turning the paddock into a paddy field – and it was cold, sleety stuff which trickled down the back of your neck. She found it hard to imagine not having any rain though.

‘It’ll be fab out there.’

Suddenly noticing the wistful note in Anna’s voice, Daisy stopped thinking about offering her field up to the rice gods, and put her mug down with a clatter. Hot coffee splattered out onto the back of her hand. ‘Bugger.’ She wiped it absent-mindedly down her jeans. ‘Why don’t you come?’

‘But it’s your trip.’ Anna was studying her mug intently.

‘Rubbish! It’s only a few days and I know Flo would love to see you, she was your bestie really, not mine.’

‘I don’t want to gate-crash your adventure.’ She still wasn’t looking up.

‘Anna! How could you possibly think that! Come. Book your ticket!’

‘Now who’s being the bossy one?’ She suddenly grinned and met Daisy’s eye. ‘You wouldn’t think I was awful if I admitted I’d booked a couple of days off work on the off-chance, would you? It’s just I was really hoping you’d say that.’

Daisy squealed and wrapped her arms round her friend. Being adventurous was one thing, doing it with Anna made it much better. ‘Really? You’re terrible, but it’s going to be fantastic, the three little bears back together again.’

Anna rolled her eyes, ‘I can’t believe you still allow your mum to call us that.’ She untangled herself. ‘It will be fab though, the three of us. Won’t it?’

Daisy paused, excitement was great, but what about the practicalities? She picked at a loose thread hanging from the bottom of her jumper and avoided looking at Anna. If she went to Barcelona she’d need clothes; she couldn’t go in these scruffs. But she’d be spending money she should be saving up towards a wedding. Although she doubted Jimmy had even thought about the finances, he was one of those ‘everything will work out fine’ types, whereas she liked to plan. ‘It’ll be amazing. I do feel a bit guilty though, I am very fond of Jimmy.’

‘I know you are. I’m not trying to interfere in your life, whatever he says, but I’m just scared that if you don’t take this chance you’ll just say yes cos it seems the sensible thing to do.’ Her arm hung heavy round Daisy’s shoulders. ‘Just for once I want you to stop being sensible, be a bit mad and impulsive like me.’ She grinned. ‘Then you can marry him if you’re sure it’s what you really want to do, and you won’t spend the rest of your life on what-ifs. I’ll even be your bridesmaid.’

Daisy rolled her eyes. ‘That’s enough to put anybody off.’ She paused. ‘Come on then, let’s get your plane ticket booked. When is Flo expecting us?’

‘Next Thursday.’ At least Anna had the good grace to look a little sheepish.

‘I’ll need some clothes.’ To hell with the expense, this was one of life’s essentials.

‘We’ll shop tomorrow. Christ, is that the time? I’m supposed to be working in the wine bar in Kitterly Heath tonight. See you at 10 a.m.?’

***

A frighteningly short week and a half after he’d proposed, Jimmy dropped Daisy and Anna off at Manchester airport.

It was a sunny December morning. Daisy’s favourite time of the year was actually autumn, when the leaves were a glorious multi-coloured mosaic and the golden sun, low at the end of each day, had lost its harsh stare and instead wrapped everywhere in a friendly- uncle hug. She wasn’t that keen on winter, the novelty of cold mornings and ice-covered troughs wore thin after a few weeks. So going away was good, wasn’t it?

Or not. What on earth was she doing heading to Spain and wall-to-wall sunshine (although a few hours spent with Google one evening had warned of showers) when she could be riding Barney across the fields and spending the evenings with her toes being toasted by the Aga? It was mad, it was crazy, it was so unlike her.

But she was damned well going to do it, even if looking at Jimmy left her feeling like the worst possible girlfriend in the world.

Then she’d come home and know for sure whether she wanted to waltz down the aisle with Jimmy, or not.

‘Stop worrying. It’s only three days, Daisy.’ Jimmy pulled into the ‘drop-off’ zone. ‘I won’t park up, not really into goodbyes. So I’ll say bye here, okay?’

‘Thanks.’ Anna was out of the car and was retrieving her rucksack from the boot almost before the car had stopped moving.

Only three days. Three days to discover the world and experience life seemed a bit of a rum deal, tall order, whatever her dad would call it. But three fabulous days! Oh God, what if it really was as good as it sounded? What if she didn’t want to come back? What if she ended up wanting more? She squashed the thought down and was sure that Jimmy had decided she was scared, not excited. Which was probably for the best. If you’d just proposed to somebody you weren’t going to be pleased if they looked deliriously happy at the prospect of whizzing off to another country without you, were you?

She set her face to serious mode and tried to squash down the giggles that were leaping up and down inside her like a boxful of frogs. ‘You will make sure Barney doesn’t get out, won’t you?’

‘I will.’

‘I got a new sack of carrots, they’re by the back door.’

‘Fine.’

‘And he doesn’t like that New Zealand rug, it rubs his withers.’

‘Daisy I am quite capable of looking after a horse for a few days.’

‘And don’t let Mabel sleep on the bed.’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t let her near it.’

‘I would love you to come.’ Prove to me that our relationship could work, that there is something in there that adds up to a happy-ever-after. That we actually do want the same things in life.

‘I know you would.’ He shrugged. ‘Go on Daisy, do this, this thing that you need to do, then promise me you’ll come home and we can go back to being like we were.’

‘I promise I’ll be back home soon.’ She couldn’t promise they’d go back to how they were because that had already changed. They could either move on to married life, or…

Neither of them mentioned what she was supposed to be coming home to – him, the rest of their lives, setting a date; the words sat like the wallflower at the party, wilting but determined to stick it out until the bitter end. Clinging to hope.

‘Go on. Bugger off. Anna’s waiting.’

She got out of the car, tugged at her suitcase and tried not to grin, because that wouldn’t be fair. She was finally doing it. Finally going.

***

As the plane banked to the right and started to make its way along the coast, Daisy was glad that Anna had insisted she sit where she had when they’d checked in for the flight.

‘You need Seat F, the window seat.’

‘Why?’

‘Because that way you will see the whole of Barcelona as we come in to land. It’s dead impressive; you can see everything.’

Of course she would. Anna knew, because Anna had, of course, been to Barcelona before. Everybody had been everywhere apart from her.

‘Oh wow, look Anna, it’s like a grid. All the streets go across or down.’

Anna grinned. ‘Apart from that diagonal one.’ She giggled. ‘It’s called Diagonal.’

‘Funny.’

‘I’m being serious. Honest. And that’s the Torre Agbar,’ Anna, peering over her shoulder, pointed, ‘there, like that gherkin thing in London. And the Sagrada Familia is up there, and that hill is Montjuic. We need to go there.’

‘Do we?’ She had spent the last couple of days wondering if she wanted to do this at all. But she had to. She had to prove to, well to herself, yes definitely to herself, that she wasn’t a dull-as-dishwater failure heading towards a hermit existence before she even hit thirty. And she wanted to. And now, as the plane started to descend towards the runway, it was as though a switch had flipped inside her and she couldn’t stop the smile that was tugging at her mouth.

She was finally doing something.

***

‘Come here, we don’t need that.’ Anna grabbed the map from Daisy’s unresisting fingers and crumpled it up with a look of glee. ‘Don’t look so horrified.’ Then dropped it into the bin they were passing with a flourish.

Daisy frowned and was about to complain when the Aerobus they had just stepped off pulled away – and she saw it.

The fountain that she’d seen in the guidebook. Two fountains in fact. ‘Wow.’

‘God, you are so easy to impress.’

‘They’re massive.’ She took a step off the kerb, she just had to see these close up.

‘Hang on,’ Anna grabbed her arm, ‘unless you can tell me how to say “call an ambulance” in Spanish?’

It wasn’t just that the fountains were big; everything was. When the traffic lights changed and Anna let her cross the road into the massive square she found herself spinning on the spot trying to take everything in. Fields were one thing, I mean she expected space in the country – but in a city? Kids were squealing as they chased enormous bubbles, and an… ‘Is that really an Apple store?’ Anna nodded. ‘Wow, Jimmy would have a field day, he’d never come out.’

‘Stop thinking about Jimmy, look,’ Anna took her by the shoulders and turned her round to face the way they’d come, ‘an enormous Corte Ingles – you know handbags, clothes, shoes.’

‘I’ve got a handbag.’ She whirled back round at the sound of flapping wings to see a black leggy dog scoot across the wide-open space, scattering the pigeons. It reminded her of Mabel; Mabel loved chasing birds. She missed the big lolloping dog already, they’d never been apart since she’d got her as a gangly out-of-proportion eight week old pup.

‘Stop thinking about Mabel.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You are, so.’ Anna stuck her tongue out.

‘It’s amazing.’ Changing the subject was always a good idea when Anna got into uber-bossy mode.

‘This is just the start, welcome to the big wide world, Daisy Fischer. Fancy a beer?’

‘I thought we were going to Flo’s? You do know where she lives?’

‘Kind of.’ Anna grinned. ‘Chill, who needs maps? I’ll sort it out, it just looks different to last time I came. Or maybe I’m thinking of Madrid.’ The grin slipped into a frown.

‘Anna!’

Anna laughed.

‘Maybe we should ask somebody?’

‘Rubbish, that’s cheating. Maps are for wimps. Come on, it’s this way I think.’ And before Daisy could object, Anna had straightened her rucksack on her shoulders and was marching back the way they’d just come.

It was only when they got to another square – this time with a large cathedral at one side – that Anna’s confident march slowed down. Which was actually quite a good thing, as Daisy felt she was in a fast-forward film.

‘That isn’t supposed to be there.’

‘Well it doesn’t look like anybody’s moved it for a few hundred years. What do you mean, isn’t supposed to be there? Can we go in?’

Anna frowned. ‘I think we’re going in the wrong direction. We’ll have a beer here while I work it out.’

‘So we can’t go in?’

‘Tomorrow. Beer. Beer and tapas, then my brain will work better.’’

Daisy raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure you should have binned the map?’

‘I’m just popping to the ladies, then we’ll go and find Flo’s place.’

‘Fine.’ Daisy was only half listening – there was a map on the next table, left by a couple who’d been too busy arguing to remember it, and any second now it was going to get whisked away by a waiter.

Anna turned her back and Daisy made a grab for it.

‘I can’t believe you came without a map!’

Daisy jumped guiltily, in very much the same way that Mabel did when she’d stolen a chicken leg off the table and still had the evidence in her mouth, then looked up. Straight into a pair of grey-blue smiling eyes.

A tall blonde girl, with the kind of tousled beach-babe look that on Daisy would be more ‘I need to wash my hair’ than ‘I need sex’, was looking down at her quizzically, one eyebrow raised. Which was exactly the look she gave Mabel when she caught her in the act, as it were.

‘Wow, Flo, is it really you?’ She scrambled to her feet. ‘What are you doing here? I didn’t think you were meeting us. Gosh, you look fabulous. That hair colour really suits you.’ It did; it looked sophisticated and casual all at once. But it only partly detracted from the dark circles under her eyes, and the slightly haunted look. ‘Are you okay? I can’t believe—’