Page 6 of The House Swap

‘Hey, trouble.’ She could hear the smile in his greeting and the tension in her shoulders eased a little.

Oh, if only he knew how close to the mark he was.

‘Is this an okay time to call? I don’t want to bother you if you’re writing.’

‘It’s all good,’ he assured her. ‘We don’t often speak during the day. Is everything okay?’

Tom had the sort of freedom that meant he could write whenever he wanted. His days were his own. Still, Poppy hesitated. Should she burden him with all of this? Though he would see it when he next logged on to Facebook. At which point he would probably question why she hadn’t said anything.

‘Not really,’ she told him.

‘What’s wrong?’ he demanded, immediately sounding concerned.

That was her cue. Without thinking it through any further, she unburdened, and everything that had happened came pouring out. By the time she had finished, she was slightly breathless and could feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

‘Wow!’ Tom uttered just the one word before falling silent.

Managing to swallow the lump in her throat, Poppy waited.

‘I know Simon Daley. I’m shocked he would do this.’

Did Tom not believe her? She clenched the phone tightly, nausea heavy in her stomach, the thought of losing him too suddenly seeming a possibility.

‘I only did what he paid me for,’ she said, unable to hide her defensive tone.

‘Of course you did. You’re a professional, Pops, and brilliant at your job. I wasn’t doubting you. I’m just shocked at Simon’s behaviour if I’m honest.’ Tom hesitated. ‘Have you spoken to him? I’m sure this can be sorted out.’

‘No, and I’m not sure it can be fixed. The accusation is already out there now.’

Simon had been a nightmare throughout her dealings with him and she doubted he could be reasoned with. She could try grovelling and beg him to remove the video, but everyone had already seen it. Besides, the only thing she had right now was her pride. She wouldn’t give it up.

‘Would you like me to talk to him?’ Tom suggested. ‘I’m happy to try to mediate.’

It was kind of him to offer, but Poppy couldn’t drag him into her mess.

‘Thank you, but no. I just need to ride the storm out and hope it doesn’t kill my business.’ She hesitated, conscious not to make the call all about herself. ‘Besides, you need to focus on your writing. How is the book going?’

‘Slowly.’ Tom laughed. ‘You know me. I can’t help tweaking as I go along.’

Tweaking was an understatement. He had almost changed the whole story.

It was through his book that the two of them had met. He was a good friend of Rebecca Kennedy’s and Rebecca had approached Poppy mentioning Tom’s name and asking if she could put them in touch for when Tom eventually needed an editor.

At the time, he only had a handful of chapters written and wouldn’t need her help until further down the line, but he had reached out to thank her and from there a friendship had blossomed.

He lived in Crete, which made meeting up difficult, and the one time he had been back in England for his friend’s fortieth and had suggested coming to see her, Poppy had unfortunately been busy with other plans. It would happen, but for now they kept in regular contact, speaking most evenings, and their conversations often stretching late into the night.

‘I guess it must be all that sunshine distracting you,’ she teased, her heart squeezing a little when he gave a deep, throaty laugh. She could picture his warm smile and the pale blue of his eyes that always sparkled in his online photos, and for a moment it felt like he was right here beside her.

‘I have to admit the weather here is definitely a plus,’ he confessed.

‘I can imagine. What’s the temperature today?’

‘A nice balmy 23 degrees. I might go for a swim.’

‘Ha, I’m jealous.’ Poppy laughed. ‘I’ll trade you. I’ll take your sunshine and you can have this nice grey, damp day.’

‘You make it sound so tempting,’ Tom joked.