Page 11 of The House Swap

She managed a smile as she typed back.

Feeling like I’m in Groundhog Day. Same old routine.

She added a bunch of emojis at the end of the message.

Hah. You definitely need that break.

Poppy hesitated, then answered honestly.

I do. Actually, I was looking at flights last night.

He replied:

Ooh. Where to?

Her heart thumped. Should she suggest coming to see him? It seemed the perfect moment to ask.

Deciding to be honest, she typed:

I was wondering how you would feel about me coming to Crete to see you.

Bouncing dots appeared on the screen. She watched them, holding her breath, unsure how he was going to react.

When they abruptly stopped after a few seconds, she thought she might be sick. She shouldn’t have invited herself. Now she had just made things awkward.

A couple of minutes passed, and she wondered if she should message again, say it had been a bad idea. But then her phone started ringing.

Tom.

Her chest tightened as she answered. ‘Hi.’

‘You want to come to Crete?’ he asked without preamble.

‘It was a bad idea. I’m sorry. I should never have invited myself.’

‘Whoa, Poppy. Slow down. It’s a great idea. I can’t believe I never thought of it myself.’

As he spoke, she could hear the excitement in his voice.

‘You’d be happy with me coming there?’ she asked tentatively, still not quite trusting he wanted her there.

‘Are you kidding? Finally, we get to meet. And there are loads of bedrooms here. You’ll love this place.’ He trailed off suddenly, falling quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, he sounded hesitant. ‘Am I getting the wrong end of the stick? Do you mean come here, but stay in a hotel? I don’t want to pressure you into anything.’

‘No, you’re not,’ Poppy quickly assured him. ‘I’d like to stay with you. If that’s okay.’

‘That’s more than okay. But wait… I do have that wedding in Paris coming up, remember?’

‘You do?’

‘Sorry, I thought I mentioned it a few weeks back that my old uni friend, Stephen, is getting married.’

Poppy’s heart sank, realising it wouldn’t work out. ‘Well, maybe I can come and visit you in a few weeks,’ she suggested. Although she wanted to get away now, she supposed she could wait. But the thought of staying in her flat while the Simon Daley situation continued to simmer was almost unbearable.

‘No, it’s fine,’ Tom assured her. ‘Get a flight out this weekend. I don’t have to leave for Paris until Friday. We can still have a few days together.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure. And you’re welcome to stay here after I’ve gone.’