The Holiday Swap

‘It’s just,’ putting her hands under her thighs and shuffling down so nobody could see her didn’t seem to be helping, ‘I’m not quite ready to be thinking about grandkids for your dad, and…’ It was one thing him feeling a bit of a dick, she was beginning to feel a real cow.

‘Oh. Silly me.’ The glass went down with a clunk and he snapped the box shut, and then it was engulfed by his large hand. He stared at the table and his whole body seemed to close down, block her out.

She could prise his fingers open. Declare undying love. Give up on everything but him.

‘Jimmy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…’ Daisy put her hand over his; the rough, weathered hand she was so fond of. If she was clear in her own head what she meant, this would be easier to explain. ‘You’ve just caught me… you mean a lot to me, you know that.’ Lame, that was so lame.

‘Sure,’ the box disappeared back into the inner packet of his waxed jacket, ‘want another beer?’

‘I just need a bit of time to get used to the idea. I’m in shock.’

‘You shouldn’t need a bit of time, Dais.’

‘I didn’t expect…’ If she’d had a warning, then she would have talked herself round.

He gave a weary sigh, then stood up. ‘I thought you’d be pleased. It’s what women want, isn’t it?’

She’d ignore the bit where he’d just lumped her in with half the population. ‘It’s just, well, sometimes I think I haven’t actually lived, you know done things.’ There were ways to say this without sounding loopy. ‘I, we, shouldn’t settle down yet. I’m too young.’

‘Young? Lots of people get married younger than us; look at my brother Andy.’

Oh yes, randy Andy, who was intent on giving the Tippermere population a boost single-handed.

‘And what do you mean you haven’t done things? Like what? You do lots of stuff. It’s that Anna, isn’t it?’

‘What is that supposed to mean, it’s Anna?’

‘Well you’re always chatting to her.’ He towered over her, beginning to look belligerent. ‘She’s told you I’m not good enough for you.’

‘That’s just not fair, Jimmy and you know it. I like Anna, she’s my friend, but I can make my own mind up about what’s right for me.’ Anna did think she could do better. Younger. More exciting. ‘And she’s never said you’re not good enough for me.’ Well, she had never actually said it in so many words.

‘Well, she’s the one that’s told you you’ve not lived.’

‘Well, actually it was you that just said I needed to lighten up, have a bit of fun.’ But he did actually have a point about Anna. She had told Daisy more than once that she needed to get a life (as in one that didn’t centre round a grumpy horse, her naughty dog Mabel, and Jimmy), but it wasn’t Anna’s voice in her head. In fact it wasn’t a voice at all, it was her heart pounding so hard it was echoing in her ears, something deep inside screaming out Help!

Jimmy’s mouth twisted stubbornly. ‘I meant we needed to get out more.’

‘You mean come to the pub more often.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with coming here for a pint now and then, or isn’t it good enough for you now?’

‘I didn’t say there was anything wrong. But maybe you’re right,’ switching it back to him had to help, concentrate on the positive Mum always said, ‘I do need to lighten up and get out more. I mean I used to have all these dreams about walking barefoot on some beach in Greece, or riding in the Canadian Rockies, or …’

‘Or swimming with dolphins. Yeah, yeah, just like in those daft magazines you read. Daisy, that’s all crap, real people like us don’t do stuff like that, you just read about it.’

‘Anna does.’

He scowled. ‘People like us don’t go hang-gliding, or jumping off cliffs or whatever it is. We’re happy as we are.’ He paused, the killer pause. ‘I bet your parents never did stuff like that.’

Bull’s-eye. She didn’t want to be like her parents, even though she loved them. They’d spent their lives tied to a farm; milking cows and cutting crops. Making hay between showers. ‘No, but I want to.’ What had he unleashed? An hour ago, before he’d asked her to marry him, she’d thought she’d been more than happy with Mabel and Barney, with him. With mucking out stables, hacking down the lanes, shampooing and clipping dogs, with being Daisy.

Now she was insisting she wanted to jump off cliffs. Which she didn’t want to do at all. Ever. She hated standing on the edge of anything, even a high wall. And the dolphin thing was a no-no. It had taken a very patient teacher and a lot of swimming lessons before she’d been able to splash her way across the width of the local swimming baths still clutching a float, mewling like a drowning kitten.

‘Right.’ He folded his arms, confidence returning. ‘Tell you what then, you spend December doing whatever these things are.’

‘December!’

He ignored the interruption. ‘I’ll wait, then we can announce it at Christmas. Go on, you get on with it, go and do things. Then you can come back home, eh?’

He could have added ‘when you’ve come to your senses’, but he didn’t. She could see it in his eyes though.

‘But I can’t do much in December, it’s too cold, and I’ve no time to plan, I—’

‘Daisy, be fair.’ He looked her in the eye, an earnest frown on his normally happy face. ‘You can’t just expect me to hang around for ever while you think about doing stuff. If it’s that important to you, then get on and do it. Unless it’s just an excuse, and what you’re really trying to do is tell me to sod off?’ He cocked his head on one side, and the normal twinkle wasn’t in his eyes.

‘Of course I’m not, Jimmy, we have a great time, it’s just…’

‘I’ll get that drink.’

They had another beer. He dropped her off home.

‘Do you really, really want to get married?’

‘I’ve asked you now, Dais. I can’t exactly un-ask, can I?’

Daisy crashed onto the sofa and didn’t object when her Irish Wolfhound Mabel climbed onto to her lap. ‘Why did he have to ask?’

Mabel didn’t answer, just flopped sideways so that her back legs dangled over the edge. Whatever happened, it meant things had changed between them forever. They couldn’t just go back to how they’d been.

‘Oh Mabel, what am I going to do?’ The dog wiggled her eyebrows, then rested her hairy chin on her paws and gave a heavy sigh. ‘He’s right. He’s blown it now. You can’t un-ask a question like that, can you?’ And you couldn’t announce an engagement when your fiancée-to-be hadn’t said yes, could you? ‘I need to talk to Anna.’

***

Anna kicked her Ugg boots off, pushed Mabel’s tail out of the way, and plonked herself down on the sofa – stretching her feet out towards the fire. Still clutching her bottle of wine. ‘Come on then, spill.’

Wriggling her way out from underneath the front end of Mabel, Daisy wondered what on earth she was supposed to add. Her text to Anna had said it all, and rather succinctly, she’d thought. Jimmy proposed, what the hell do I do now?

‘There isn’t exactly anything else to spill. I’ll get some wine glasses and a corkscrew.’

‘So you are sure he actually meant to propose, Daisy? He wasn’t just mucking around?’

‘He had a ring.’

‘Wow, I didn’t know he could be that organised. Did it fit? Did it have a huge diamond?’

‘I didn’t try it on, that would have been weird.’ She daren’t even touch it.

‘A ring is kind of, er, conclusive. Shit.’

‘I didn’t think he wanted to get married.’ Jimmy didn’t do surprises, and he didn’t do organised. He was just Jimmy.

‘But you love him, don’t you?’

‘I thought I did.’ Daisy looked glumly at Anna. This was what people waited their whole lives for, wasn’t it? Falling in love, being proposed to. Nest-building. Having children. Growing old together. Oh bugger, she’d just written off her whole life.

‘I take it from the look on your face that you’ve worked out you don’t.’

‘Well, I am very fond of him.’ Yuk, what kind of a word was ‘fond’?

‘Daisy! You either do love the man or you don’t.’

‘It’s not that simple. I mean I do, really, really like him. We get on.’ Which was enough for some people. She loved him, they were compatible, had reasonable sex (even if the headboard didn’t bang as much these days), they shared a sense of humour, they got on. She loved him like she loved Mabel and Barney (but obviously it was platonic with them).

She’d always just assumed they’d carry on together. As they were. Without a ring. With separate homes. Have fun. It wasn’t that she was expecting some man to sweep her off her feet; sexual frisson seemed to have largely passed her by. Which was fine, but did she really want to deny herself the possibility of ever having it? To give up on the hope of even the smallest fizz?

‘What are you thinking about? You’ve got a weird look on your face.’ Anna was peering at her, one eyebrow raised.

No way was she going to say sex, or excitement, or thrills. She’d never hear the last of that. ‘Nothing.’ She wriggled, pretty unconvincing then, even to her own ears. ‘Jimmy is great, but,’ she’d moved on to squirming, which was better, ‘it’s not that I’m not grateful.’

‘You’re not supposed to be grateful, you idiot, you’re supposed to be excited.’

But she wasn’t. That was the problem.

She covered her face with her hands. ‘I ignored him the first time he asked.’

Anna laughed. ‘That is so mean.’ Then she frowned. ‘And it’s not like you at all.’

Daisy peeped through her fingers. ‘Well he mumbled, and I was busy tying the gate together and I thought maybe I’d misheard.’

‘You hoped you had, you mean. So you made him ask again, twice, and then said no! Oh, poor Jimmy.’

‘Shush, I didn’t mean it, and I didn’t say no. Oh, Anna, the second I saw the ring I just felt… oh God, this sounds awful.’

‘Spit it out then.’ Anna was looking more intrigued by the second. ‘This is better than an episode of EastEnders.’

‘If you’re not going to take me seriously, then I’m not going to talk about it.’

‘I am. Honest, cross my heart.’

‘I just felt,’ if she said it quickly it might not sound as bad as it did in her head, ‘is this it? Is this all there is?’

Anna giggled. ‘Sounds like a song,’ and she started singing.

‘This is my life, Anna.’

‘Another song.’

‘Sod off, it’s not funny. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?’

‘Well, you’re sounding a bit philosophical even for you – is this all there is? – roll on death and maggots eating your rotting corpse.’

‘I didn’t mean that, you know I didn’t. It’s just…’ She gazed out of the window into the blackness, but knew that in the morning the beautiful rolling hills that she did love would be there.

She had Mabel, she had her horse. It should be enough; she should be satisfied.

‘Spit it out then, Dais.’

‘Well, I haven’t been anywhere.’

‘And you haven’t shagged anybody else? Is this what it’s really about?’

Everybody in the village knew that Daisy had never fallen in love with a playground buddy. She’d never sneaked fags or kisses behind the bike shed, she’d just been Daisy. Then Daisy had left school and turned into Daisy and Jimmy.

‘I’m not talking about shagging.’

‘So? Can’t this dog go on the floor?’

‘She’s asleep, don’t be mean. Look, you went on proper holidays when you were a kid, didn’t you?’ Daisy said, slightly accusingly, at Anna, feeling like she wasn’t being taken seriously. ‘All we ever got was a week in a caravan in Tenby, cos Dad had to get back to the cows.’ And the chickens, and the hay-making. She sighed. ‘Not that there’s anything wrong with Tenby. But we were supposed to go to France once, then there was a ferry strike. Dad said what will be will be and never tried again.’

Anna topped up the wine glasses. ‘So you’ve never even been to France?’ Daisy shook her head. ‘Or Spain?’

‘Nope.’

‘Greece? Italy?’

‘Now you’re being silly.’

‘Isle of Wight?’

‘You’re making me feel worse now, not better. I thought friends were supposed to help. I did go to Cornwall once.’

‘Well it’s a start, it used to be a separate country didn’t it?’

‘Dad was competing with a prize heifer in the Royal show. We were only there for two days.’

‘Okay, better than nothing I suppose. Just. Won’t Jimmy take you somewhere, you know, if you get married? You could have a blow-out honeymoon.’

‘He’s like Dad, he likes what he knows.’ Daisy sighed. She’d actually always liked that side of him, until it had come to the crunch. She knew where she stood with Jimmy, he was like a comfortable old fleece – the one you always grabbed. ‘He did go to Ibiza with Andy and the gang for a stag do, but that was it, and he kept saying how glad he was to be home.’

‘He is nice though, Jimmy. You do get on.’

‘My whole life is nice, Anna, that’s the problem and I hadn’t really thought about it properly until he asked.’ Had her cornered, more like. ‘But I do love him,’ maybe more in the old-fleece than mad-passion way, ‘and all this.’ She waved expansively to take in the cottage and everything outside. The world as she knew it. ‘But I just sometimes get this feeling that if I’m not careful I’ll miss out on a whole load of stuff.’

‘Like?’

‘I don’t know. Everything. I’m being daft, aren’t I? This should be enough. I should just know he’s the one for me.’

Anne grinned. ‘How should I know? Miss Footloose and Fancy-free, that’s me, but,’ the smile slipped, ‘you know what, girl? Maybe you need to sow some wild oats,’ Daisy rolled her eyes, ‘well not shag around or anything, but get away from Cheshire. I sometimes envy you, you’ve got everything while I’m just dashing round wasting my life, so I’m not going to hand out advice. But maybe you just need to get out there, go somewhere.’ She shrugged. ‘Then you’ll appreciate Jimmy and all this, or,’ she grinned, ‘never come back.’

‘I’d never not come back,’ Daisy protested, ‘it’s my home.’ She peered at Anna over her glass. ‘I could go away though, couldn’t I?’ Actually go somewhere, rather than just think about doing it.

‘You could. And you’ve got a deadline, so we need to come up with a plan, book flights to exotic locations.’

‘Anna!’

‘He’s given you an ultimatum, Dais, and it’s the best thing that could have happened to you. You can’t put it off – you either live a bit, or,’ she paused, and this time did look up, ‘or you give Jimmy an answer now.’

‘You know I’m not going to do that.’ She stared at Anna. She was right. It was her chance to actually do something.

‘If you stay here before you know it Jimmy will have moved in,’ she picked up one of Jimmy’s socks off the chair next to her and wrinkled her nose, then flung it in the air – it hit Mabel on the head, ‘and you’ll be married and have a brood of Jim and Jemima’s.’

‘He said you’ve got until Christmas,’ Anna’s voice softened, which was dangerous, so Daisy concentrated, ‘I know you’re still not sure, and you’ve got to be. This could be the most important decision you’ve ever made in your whole life.’

‘I’ll be fine. I’m perfectly capable of making my own decision.’

Anna sighed. ‘I’m not having a dig, it’s just you’ve kind of settled into middle-aged bliss without doing the bit before. You said yourself that you didn’t want to end up like your mum, giving everything up and becoming a farmer’s wife.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Well at least she had stuff to decide to give up, didn’t she?’

‘I think she had a pretty high-powered job, though she doesn’t say much. She used to fly all over the world.’

‘Exactly, and what have you done, Daisy Fischer? You said yourself that you’ve never been abroad. Let’s face it, you hardly ever get more than fifteen miles from Tippermere.’

‘Okay, I’m hopeless. Can we leave me alone now and talk about the weather?’

‘You’re not hopeless; you just need to take this opportunity.’

‘I am going to. I just need to think, decide what I really want to do, where I want to go.’ No way was she going to let Anna book her a ticket to Bangkok, or wherever she had in mind. But she was going to do this. It was just a case of deciding what ‘this’ was.

‘Now you’re talking. The world is your oyster.’

Not that she’d ever even had an oyster. ‘But who do I go with? I don’t know anybody but you.’

‘Well actually, it would be better if you went with yourself, just you, Daisy. Otherwise you won’t see anything and you certainly won’t meet,’ Anna’s eyes were positively gleaming with fun, ‘anybody. But I’ve got a better idea.’

‘What?’ Daisy really didn’t like that look in her friend’s eye.

‘I’ll tell you tomorrow, when I’ve done some checking. Come on, drink up, I’ve got another bottle of wine in my bag.’

Daisy groaned. Anna knew she was a pushover after two glasses of wine, she’d agree to anything.

Chapter 3 – Flo. Paris and back again

Florence Cortes liked Barcelona best when the fierce heat of the summer sun had mellowed and the crowds had thinned, not that you could ever call the city quiet. But in the autumn it was still warm enough to laze on the beach at weekends, and even the more popular tourist bars had the odd empty seat in the evening.

She was nursing a very nice glass of red wine, in her favourite El Born bar, when Oli bounced in. Late as usual.

‘Evening, gorgeous.’ Oli kissed her, a broad smile on his full lips. ‘Same for me, please.’ He signalled to the guy behind the bar for a glass of wine before settling down on the stool next to hers. He snuggled in closer, so that their knees touched.

It was like loving a Golden Retriever; hard to be cross when he looked so adorably happy to see you. No, she corrected herself, it was more like loving a cat. A very demanding cat. He might be asking for cuddles right now, but she seemed to be spending an increasingly large chunk of her life trying to please him; he was like a surgeon – he liked having his patients there in the waiting room ready so that he didn’t have to waste any of his own precious time. The fact that she could have written an article for their magazine, or done her nails, instead of sitting in a bar on her own waiting was irrelevant to him.

At times it niggled her, but it was silly to let his little bad habits annoy her – and as everybody was always telling her (including Oli himself), she had the perfect life. A lovely apartment, great job, and Oli. She shook off her irritation; he was the perfect man, even her parents seemed to think so.

‘Sorry I’m late.’ He hadn’t missed the way she’d glanced at her watch. ‘But I’ve been busy.’

‘You’re always busy,’ she tried not to sound cross, he was after all working hard for them, both of them, ‘what deal have you been sealing today, Oli?’

‘One just for you.’ He grinned. ‘You’re going to love this. Hang on, I need a leak but I’ll be back in a sec.’ He tapped his mobile phone. ‘No peeking. I’m expecting the confirmation any second now.’ He rolled his eyes theatrically. ‘The things I do for you.’

Flo was staring at his mobile, which for once wasn’t attached to him, and then it pinged. Just like that.

She wouldn’t normally dare touch his precious phone (in fact, as it was seldom out in the wild on its own, chance would have been a fine thing), but it was for her, wasn’t it? He’d just said so. She hesitated for a nanosecond – to give him time to get back from the toilet, which he didn’t – then grabbed it.

Oli had always been pretty spontaneous in the early days of their relationship. In the very early days he’d once knocked on her door with a rose between his teeth and tickets for a gig in his hand, and he’d surprised her with a brand new Vespa scooter when it wasn’t even her birthday, but things had got a bit more predictable lately. But that was what happened in relationships, wasn’t it?

Or maybe not.

She scanned the email. Then read it again slightly more carefully just to be sure. Then a third time (it was a very short email) and the bubble of excitement burst out just as Oli got back from his visit to the gents.

‘What are you doing with my phone?’

‘Oh My God,’ she laughed out loud, ignoring the edge to his voice, ‘Oli. Really?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘What’s that you’re looking at, Flo?’ He put a hand over hers to steady his phone – which she was waving about in front of his face as she jumped up and down – so he could read what was on the screen.

‘Christ, what are you doing?’ He paused. ‘Oh that.’ The nervous twitch and flat tone wasn’t quite what she’d expected. Nor was the way his grip tightened on her wrist as he tried to tug the phone from her grasp, while she was busy attempting to re-read the message. Just to make sure it really did say what she thought. ‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Florence, give me the bloody phone.’

Flo froze. Oh shit. Now he was cross (that cat thing again), she’d spoiled his surprise, and he so liked to do things his way. Or not at all. ‘Oh no, I’m sorry, you wanted to tell me your—’

He shrugged, pulled at the phone again in what was getting to be a bit of a tug of war. ‘This is you all over, isn’t it? Why do you always have to interfere and spoil things?’

‘I wasn’t interfering, the message just came in, and I thought, you said you were expecting… Oli, I’m sorry, honest.’ She never normally got a chance to be remotely nosey, he was far too good at being in control. ‘I didn’t mean to spoil… it’s just such a wonderful surprise and now I’ve ruined it.’ Even for control-freak Oli it was a bit of an over-reaction. Flo stared at him, wondering if any moment now he was going to storm out and cancel the whole thing.

There was a moment when he just stood and stared at her, then his normal quirky grin reappeared. ‘It’s fine, never mind. I know you always wanted to go to Paris, so I thought what the hell.’

‘You remembered.’ She shrieked, then relinquished control of the phone, as he’d confirmed exactly what he’d done himself, and grabbed him. ‘You remembered, oh Oli, you are amazing. I am so lucky’

‘Of course I remembered.’ His expression was a mixture of satisfaction and slight annoyance that she’d doubted him. ‘I always remember important facts like that. You said it was one of the most romantic place on earth.’

‘No, well yes, but I meant you remembered our anniversary. Oh Oli, I do love you.’ And if she hadn’t been quite as excited, and convinced that he really, really did love her, she might have noticed there and then that he hadn’t reacted to the word ‘anniversary’ at all. ‘And going on the train; that is so romantic.’

He wriggled free of her grip and straightened his top. ‘I thought flying was overrated. This way we’re doing it in style, making it part of the trip. Flying first class would have been a bit of a cliché and you can pack your own hamper and bubbly. It’ll save us some cash too, no point throwing it away.’

Flo didn’t actually mind being clichéd, or being wined and dined in style, but she was being picky and ungrateful. And this was all fabulous, and SO romantic, and this way they’d have some spare money to go out on their actual anniversary. Oh God, maybe he had something special planned. Like a ring. For her third finger. She tried not to grin like a simpleton. One step at a time, she mustn’t just expect it – that would spoil the actual surprise.

Oli patted her stool, expecting her to behave and sit down again.

‘I’m sorry, I…’

‘Forget it.’ He pocketed his mobile. ‘But you know I don’t like people messing with my phone.’

She could have said she wasn’t just ‘people’, but that might have seemed churlish, and at least he seemed to have got over it now.

‘Blew the budget really a bit as it was, but we’re worth it.’ He grinned, his good humour fully restored. ‘Paris is bloody expensive you know.’

‘But so romantic.’ Flo sighed. She loved all of France, but Paris really was the most spectacular, romantic spot on earth. And this time she’d be with the man she loved, not her parents, or on a school trip with a bunch of teenage boys who thought culture was seeing who could spit their chewing gum out furthest.