The Holiday Swap: The perfect feel good romance for fans of the Christmas movie The Holiday. Zara StoneleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
and snuffled a bit, and was looking back at the two shocked faces, it didn’t seem quite as bad. They weren’t used to seeing her crumble.
‘It was supposed to be a romantic break for him and bloody Sarah.’ She sipped from her overflowing glass, and then took a deep, calming breath. She could do this. She could explain and just not care.
‘It just never occurred to me…’ She speared an anchovy slightly more brutally than it deserved. ‘He didn’t even have the decency to wait until after the weekend, or the holiday. He could have put her off, but oh no, the bastard decided to kill two birds with one stone. Why take just your girlfriend on holiday, when you can invite the other woman along as well. My dear, darling nearly-fiancé, work partner, whole life, had decided not to let me ruin his plans.’
‘Two for the price of one.’ Anna shook her head.
‘Bog off.’ Daisy nodded.
‘Sorry?’
‘Buy one get one free, BOGOF.’ Daisy bit her lip. ‘Seems appropriate in the circumstances, that’s what you need to tell him to do.’
‘I know. I have.’ She sighed, looked at Daisy, then wiped her nose on the back of her hand. ‘So what’s the problem with Jimmy and you?’
‘Jimmy’s the problem.’ Anna cut in.
Daisy swilled her glass round. ‘I feel terrible now I know what’s happened to you.’
‘No, tell. I need to stop thinking about it, him, he doesn’t deserve having this much of my time spent on him.’
‘Well, that’s it,’ she shrugged her slim shoulders, ‘Jimmy proposed.’ She looked as glum as Flo had seen her.
‘But?’
‘She doesn’t love him.’ Anna nudged Daisy in the ribs. ‘Do you?’
Daisy screwed up her mouth. ‘It was completely out of the blue, I never expected it. His dad put him up to it.’
‘He’s completely boring,’ Anna continued, ‘and she’ll end up spending the rest of her life darning his socks and growing vegetables.’
‘I always thought he was nice, quite sexy, really, for his age, and I do remember his dimples.’ Flo took another gulp of cava, ‘but you can’t marry him if you don’t love him, can you?’ She propped her chin on her hands, and it promptly slipped off, which had to be down to too much cava and not enough tapas. She sat up, trying to look sober. ‘I thought I loved Oli, but you know what? He’s a complete control freak, as well as a selfish arse.’ She gazed at Anna. ‘I’d quite like to grow vegetables.’
‘Why?’ Anna frowned. ‘If God had wanted us to grow our own peas he wouldn’t have invented Tesco’s would he?’
‘I think he did want us to grow peas.’ Daisy said. ‘That’s why he gave us soil and stuff. But by your logic he wanted us to darn socks too, or he wouldn’t have put holes in them.’
‘My mum used to grow stuff when I was little, in England.’ Flo was not to be deterred.
‘That’s all people do in Tippermere,’ interjected Anna. ‘Grow stuff, ride horses and gossip. I am so glad I moved out and got a proper job.’
‘I’m not. I remember the smell of the tomatoes, all green and fresh.’ Flo waved the empty bottle of cava and waited for a refill, wondering just how many bottles they’d had. ‘And sprouts, she grew those as well, tiny ones for Christmas. Oh God, Christmas. I love Christmas and I’ll have to do all the stuff we normally do together on my own, go round the lights, shop,’ she put her head in her hands, ‘do the romantic Christmas special for our magazine. Shit, and I just know I’ll bump into him with her, doing all our stuff.’
‘You know what you two need to do?’ Anna leaned forward, elbows on the small marble table.
‘Drink more cava, by the crate.’ Flo watched as the waiter topped up their glasses.
‘Nope. You,’ Anna pointed at Flo, ‘need to get away from that selfish twat, and your job, for the rest of the month. That way you won’t bump into him. You need to grow stuff, do your own thing. And you,’ she swivelled on her stool to look at Daisy, and pointed with her other hand, ‘need to stay out here away from Jimmy. If you go back you’ll just end up saying yes.’
‘You can’t grow stuff in December.’ Daisy downed the contents of her glass. ‘This is so easy to drink; it’s just like pop. And I’m not that weak-willed thank you.’
‘Flo can finish off growing your sprouts,’
‘I don’t have sprouts.’
‘Oh whatever, while you do the whole going-round-the-lights thing here.’
‘What?’
‘You can both swap.’ Anna crossed her hands over and grinned. ‘I’m amazing, go on, say it. It’s the perfect solution, and it only took three bottles of cava.’
‘Four. But I don’t speak Spanish. How can I stay here on my own? It’s different being here with Flo.’
‘Most people don’t speak Spanish here.’ Flo grinned. ‘They speak Catalan. They throw in some French words, like merci, but without the French accent.’
‘Really?’ That made no sense at all.
‘Really.’ Flo looked at her best friends. ‘I like that idea, Anna, you’re amazing, I’d even go as far as to say a genius.’ This could work. This could really work. She could escape for a couple of weeks. By the time she came back everybody would know and there wouldn’t be all that embarrassing explanation stuff that made her cry, and she’d be over him. Completely. ‘Oh wow, yes,’ she laughed, wondering if she was drunk or delirious, ‘Anna, that does sound an amazing idea. Tell me we can do it, please Daisy? I’ve always wanted to go back and do the works. You know, a cosy cottage and build a snowman, toast marshmallows. Do all the stuff we used to do.’
‘Er, well, I’ll have to check with Jimmy.’
Anna rolled her eyes. ‘Jimmy’s given you until Christmas, you nitwit. Just do it.’
‘But he needs me there, and somebody needs to look after everything.’
‘Don’t you get it? Flo looks after your place, everything, and you look after hers. And stuff Jimmy, he’s perfectly capable of looking after himself. Right, while we’re on the subject of stuffing, can we have some of those stuffed pepper things?’
Chapter 7 – Daisy. The morning after
‘Go away.’ Daisy rolled over and buried her head under the pillow, trying to escape Mabel’s prodding.
‘That’s not very nice when I’ve been out for croissants. Come on, get out of bed, you lazy bug.’ Anna grabbed the pillow and Daisy scrunched her eyes up against the sunlight that flooded the room.
Something was wrong. It shouldn’t be this light; Anna shouldn’t be there.
Then she remembered. She was in Barcelona. She had shared a bed with Anna (who didn’t snore and snuffle and make little growly noises in her sleep), not Mabel (who did). She had drunk a gallon of cava last night, and it was trying to explode out of her head.
‘Hurry up.’ Anna, sounding disgustingly bouncy, had retreated and was standing in the doorway. ‘Croissants, coffee, come on. We’ve got to plan what we’re doing today.’
‘I was planning on sleeping.’
‘We’ve only got two days, come on.’ Anna nudged her foot.
Daisy suddenly felt wide awake (but with a thumping head) as last night flooded back (along with a hint of