The Holiday Swap: The perfect feel good romance for fans of the Christmas movie The Holiday. Zara Stoneley
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never been.’ She turned to Flo. ‘So were me and map-girl heading in the right direction?’
Flo, looked bemused. ‘Sure, if you were heading to my place, but if you were supposed to be exploring El Raval you’re going in completely the wrong direction, it’s kind of straight across in that direction, until you hit La Rambla, then keep going on the other side.’
Anna grinned, completely unperturbed.
‘You could come back to my place now to dump your bags if you like, then spend the afternoon exploring your dodgy spots on your own. Meet up later for drinks?’
Daisy lifted her face to the sun. It would be fine. Calm. ‘I don’t do dodgy.’
‘We’ll have another beer first, then decide.’ Anna wriggled her way deeper into the seat and looked at Daisy. ‘I’m not moving until you’ve chilled a bit. However many drinks it takes, and I’m starving, can we eat?’
With her mouth wrapped inelegantly round a very large baguette, Daisy began to feel much more confident. For one brief moment she’d wondered if Anna coming with her had been such a good idea after all, but they’d have fun. The three of them had always had a good time together. ‘So what’s on the agenda for tonight?’
‘Well, if you fancy it I’ll take you to this fab little bar? Only, of course, if you want to. I don’t want to tell you what to do – it’s your weekend.’
‘Well if you don’t decide, somebody else will.’ Daisy grinned in Anna’s direction. ‘Won’t you?’
‘Somebody has to. But fine by me.’
‘Here, give me the map and I’ll show you where you are and where my place is. It’ll help you get your bearings.’ She looked at the map. Daisy put it on the table reluctantly, as far away from Anna as she could. ‘We’re right here in this square, here’s my place,’ she put a cross on the map, ‘then tonight, after you’ve done your exploring, I’ll meet you here,’ she circled a spot on the map, ‘it’s called El Xampanyet, it’s by the Museu Picasso, which is right here, you can’t miss it.’ Daisy wondered if she’d be able to decipher all these lines later.
‘Just ask anybody, or there are plenty of signs.’ Flo added, no doubt reading her dubious look. ‘It’s a great bar, tapas, cava okay?’
‘Fab.’ She reclaimed her map. ‘But are you sure you’re not doing anything else? I mean we can manage if you’re busy.’
‘Nothing.’ There was a flicker of expression that Daisy couldn’t quite pin down, but looked a bit like she felt. Wobbly. ‘It’s fab you’re both here, I can’t wait to catch up on the gossip.’ She smiled, but it was one of those not-quite-happy, not-quite-sad smiles. ‘I get dead jealous of you pair together having all that fun.’
‘Jealous?’ Daisy stared at her hard. ‘You have got to be kidding. You’ve got all this,’ she waved an expansive hand, ‘it’s amazing.’
‘Yeah, amazing.’ Flo sighed. ‘It is, I know, I’m lucky. Shall we make a move, go back to my place so you can freshen up?’
‘Sure.’ Flo, Daisy decided was definitely below par, she’d always been so bubbly and positive. ‘Come on Anna, let’s go before we’re plastered. Then I’ll pick a place to explore, I’ve got a map.’ She grinned and waved it, rather unwisely, in the air, just out of Anna’s reach.
Chapter 6 – Flo. Another kind of proposal
Flo stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and thought, not for the first time, how bloody amazing decent make-up could be. It almost looked natural – like she was a normal, pre-non-proposal-Paris happy person.
She peered a bit closer, until her nose nearly hit the glass. Well, obviously it didn’t actually work miracles, her eyes were still puffed up so that she looked like one of those poppy-out-eyed goldfish, but it was a vast improvement – her face had been rescued from the totally yuk broken-heart look. Now she just looked like she’d had a bad night, or been punched. Which she had, well the bad-night bit, the punch was purely mental. It just felt physical. She rested her forehead against the glass.
Bugger Oli. She had to get a grip. He was a completely useless, two-timing wanker who didn’t deserve another second of her life.
She needed to block his phone number, shred his photos. Oh God, there were so many happy, laughing-couple photos, and the ones when he was looking into her eyes like some dashing prince about to…
STOP.
Flo scrunched her fingers into fists and counted to ten. Then looked down at her make-up bag.
She could do this. She could be single again and bloody enjoy it.
The make-up had been a gift from a local business that she’d run a spread on. For their magazine. Their joint magazine. Oh stuff him and his stupid magazine. Concentrate on concealer, foundation. She would obliterate him from her life, wipe every trace away, including the bloody dark smudges under her eyes. And they were because of the copious amounts of alcohol. Nothing to do with him and the fact she couldn’t stop crying.
She’d thrown all the expensive products into the bathroom drawer and laughingly wondered who the hell needed stuff like that.
Now she knew.
People that went out with cheating creeps.
Most of the time Flo stuck with a quick flick of eye-liner, a coat of mascara and smear of lip-salve, but she’d just discovered there were times that demanded something more drastic. Like right now.
The red-eye look wasn’t quite so in-your-face when your blusher and lipstick were several shades darker, and the concealer had almost obliterated the dark smudges under her eyes. She could probably explain everything away as a bad dose of hay-fever. Except it was winter. Hangover, they’d accept a hangover as a good enough reason.
Flo wasn’t sure that she really wanted to go out. But no way was she staying in and thinking about Oli.
When she’d got back from Paris she’d felt wiped out, and crashed into an alcohol-and grief-induced coma. And it didn’t seem to get easier as the days went on, even knowing that her friends were coming to stay – and take her mind off him. Off the whole fiasco.
Today, despite a bracing walk along the beach, shopping therapy and a quick chat to Anna and Daisy, she was still fidgeting inside. She needed to do something that didn’t involve throwing things he’d bought her at the walls.
And going out with old friends was far better than an evening with Spanish friends. As in ‘their’ friends. That was the trouble with being a couple, wasn’t it? Who had custody of the friends? At some point she’d have to face the inevitable questions from the Oli-appreciation fan-club – which all her mates seemed to belong to – but right now, with the memory of Oli’s bare bum partly covered by another woman’s hand still fresh in her mind, she’d rather try and think about something else.
She wasn’t quite sure what had got into her when she’d practically insisted Daisy and Anna come out to Barcelona, it wasn’t like her at all. But maybe that was how she’d get through this – by being less like her normal self. No hanging about waiting for him to turn up to meet her, no dropping everything to answer his calls, no working until midnight to meet his deadlines. Maybe it would help. Maybe it was time to do what she wanted, and not just try and please some self-satisfied idiot.
Flo stared at her image in the mirror. That’s what she’d just wasted the last few years of her life on. The reality hit her. Oli had been the centre of her universe, she’d actually morphed from the girl she used to be into the woman he demanded. She hadn’t stopped to think about it until now, but he’d gradually got under her skin, and, because she loved him she’d wanted to please him. Like some pathetic lap dog.
Which