‘That was you?’ Kate laughs as she slides the ring onto her finger. ‘Thank you. I’ll treasure it.’
‘Rebecca?’ A hand reaches out and touches my arm. ‘Can I have a word?’ I start at the sound of the meek version of Vanessa’s voice again. She’s smiling at me, which is still unsettling after all this time.
‘Okay.’ I turn to Kate and tell her I’ll meet her in the café in a minute or two before following Vanessa to a quieter part of the yard.
‘Stacey tells me you organised the open day. You’ve done a great job.’ The smile from my former boss was unsettling enough so her unexpected praise is truly disturbing.
‘Thank you, but it wasn’t just me. It was a team effort.’
‘But you took the lead, yes?’ The smile on Vanessa’s face droops when I nod. ‘I should have seen your potential while you were working for me, and I definitely shouldn’t have put my trust in Emma.’ Me either, I think, but I don’t voice it. ‘She did steal your ideas, didn’t she?’
‘She admitted it?’
Vanessa rolls her eyes. ‘As if, but it didn’t take a genius to work it out. She didn’t have an original idea of her own once you left. Putting her on the team was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made. Trusting a word that came out of her mouth was another. Did you know it was Emma who convinced me it was poor Sonia who was having an affair with Ty behind my back? She kept whispering in my ear until I believed it, stupid cow that I am. It was her the whole time.’
‘Emma?’ My jaw almost hits the deck. ‘And Tyler?’
Vanessa nods and sighs heavily. ‘At it for weeks behind my back. No wonder he kept whisking me away for romantic weekends away and taking me out for expensive dinners. Guilty conscience. And I was daft enough to fall for it.’
‘How did you discover the truth?’ It’s none of my business, obviously, but I’m morbidly curious.
‘I found them in a rather compromising position in the haunted house at the Heron Farm Festival.’ Vanessa shudders. ‘They deserve each other. Not that it lasted – Ty’s dating a minor soap star now, according to the gossip mags, so good luck to her. And Emma was working in a call centre for PPI the last I heard.’ Vanessa reaches out, and I instinctively flinch, though she simply places a hand on my arm. ‘Is there any chance you’d come back?’
‘To Vanessa Whitely Events?’
Vanessa nods. ‘Not as my PA, obviously. I already have a new one of those, not that she’s a patch on you. But no, I have an opening in the team. It’s yours if you want it.’
It’s all I ever wanted, to be part of Vanessa’s creative team. It was The Dream. But dreams change.
‘Thanks, but I’m happy where I am.’
Vanessa nods as she removes her hand from my arm. ‘Thought as much, but worth a try.’ She gives a sad smile as she starts to back away. I could leave it at that. Move on and forget the whole business with Vanessa ever happened. But Vanessa has made a concession today, and I could do the same.
‘Thank you, for selling the land to Stacey. And without making a profit.’ Stacey’s used the extra money we raised at the festival to update the former education suite so she can now house more indoor animals. There are currently five guinea pigs awaiting new homes, as well as a recuperating ferret.
‘It’s my pleasure.’ Vanessa looks around the yard. ‘It’s down to you and your home truths that did it. I did used to think only of myself, but losing you, poor Sonia – who won an industry award last month, did you hear? – and that pair of vile creatures in a matter of days really highlighted how right you were in everything you said. And I’ve actually grown quite fond of this place. Did you know I’ve sponsored Violet?’
My eyebrows shoot up my forehead. ‘The pig?’ The smelliest animal at the sanctuary by far.
‘But I only have to pay towards her upkeep.’ Vanessa holds up her manicured hands. ‘I absolutely don’t have to clean up after her or anything gross like that.’
Part of me wants to laugh, because it’s just so typical of Vanessa, but I don’t, because she’s doing a noble thing. She’s choosing to help in a way that’s comfortable for her.
‘That’s great, Vanessa. I guess I’ll see you around?’
Vanessa nods, the smile returning as she backs away again. We’ll never be the best of friends – probably not friends at all – but we can at least be civil when we inevitably bump into each other in the village.
‘There you are!’ Oliver wraps his arm around my waist as Vanessa disappears into the crowd. ‘Stace and Dominic have challenged us to a paired game of Giant Jenga. You up for it?’
I give a spluttery laugh. ‘Are you kidding? Let me have a quick cup of tea with Kate and make sure she’s not about to give birth and then we’ll kick some ass.’
Oliver kisses me on the cheek before he takes my hand in his to lead me across the yard. ‘This is why I love you.’ He winks at me. ‘Not the only reason, obviously, but a pretty major one.’
We head across to the café, and for once I’m not bothered in the slightest whether we win or lose the game, because I feel like a winner no matter what right now.
If you enjoyed The Accidental Life Swap, why not try The Single Mums’ Picnic Club?
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Acknowledgements
Firstly, a massive thank you to everyone who helped to name the (numerous) animals in The Accidental Life Swap. I thought it’d be fun to ask for help naming them on my Facebook page and I was taken aback by the response! Thanks to everyone who took part (far too many to list!) and the following people who provided the names used in the book: Sharon Smith (Daisy), Gemma Tierney (Chow Mein), Gisele Le Corre (Bianca), Maggie Rollison (Patty), Anne Maria Seymour (Claude), Rae Kenny-Rife (Pumpkin), Jo Jackson (Sophie), Melissa Elizabeth (Tommy, Timmy & Tammy), Stephanie-Jayne Matthews (Rupert), Patricia Scott (Honey) and Maggie Ewing (Violet). When my daughters found out I was asking for help naming animals, they insisted their names were used, so thank you to Rianne and Isobel too!
As I started to plan the book, I put a call out in my newsletter for one of my subscribers to have a character named after them, so a humongous thank you to Stacey Rowe for lending her name.
Thanks also to my family for all the support and cheerleading. Special thanks to my mum, my husband, Chris, and Rianne and Isobel (again), and my writing companion, Luna.
As always, thanks to my editor, Charlotte Mursell, and the HQ Digital team. I really, really couldn’t do this without you guys.
Finally, the biggest thanks to you, the reader. I hope you enjoy The Accidental Life Swap as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.
Turn the page for an exclusive extract from The Single Mums’ Picnic Club, another enchanting read from Jennifer Joyce …
Chapter 1
Katie
‘What do you mean, you don’t like cheese sandwiches?’ Katie blinked at her daughter, unable to comprehend the information she had just been given. ‘Since when?’
Hadn’t Lizzie polished off the double Gloucester with onion and chive from the cheese board just a few days ago? The double Gloucester with onion and chive that Katie had been looking forward to? She’d deliberately left it until last and the deep disappointment at finding the empty wrapper in the fridge was still there, as was the annoyance, bordering on rage, that her children seemed unable to use the flipping kitchen bin to dispose of empty wrappers. The whole kitchen showed their abuse of the family home, from the puddle of milk seeping towards the edge of the countertop to the dirty breakfast dishes dotted around the room; a bowl plonked on top of the microwave, a plate spilling toast crumbs on the table, a butter-slicked knife smearing grease on the floor. Katie despaired, but she was hardly a domesticated goddess herself right now, as evidenced when she gathered up the dirty plates, bowls and cutlery and yanked opened the dishwasher. It was full. And the contents inside were far from clean.
Lizzie dumped the offending clingfilm-wrapped che
ese sandwich down on the kitchen counter, missing the milk puddle by mere millimetres. ‘Can’t I have Nutella instead?’
Ha! If only. Katie had discovered the empty jar in the cupboard during the early hours, when she’d been in dire need of a stress-generated snack, and had almost howled with fury. She suspected her oldest child was the culprit of this particular crime, so she’d enacted her revenge by wolfing down three segments of the boy’s squirrelled-away Chocolate Orange. Elliot hadn’t clocked the theft yet so, having calmed down since her hunger-induced haze of rage, Katie was hoping to replace the pieces before he did.
‘It’s cheese or nothing, I’m afraid.’ After dumping the dirty dishes in the sink, Katie grabbed the sandwich and dropped it back into Lizzie’s open Tupperware box. ‘You’re lucky we had any bread in for sandwiches at all.’
It was January now – the first day back to school after the festive break – but Katie was still submerged in the fog of Christmas, where routine things like grocery shopping flew out of the window and more relaxed eating habits became the norm; five-a-day now related to different versions of chocolate treats, and grazing replaced structured mealtimes. The bunch of blackened bananas lounging in the fruit bowl hadn’t enticed anybody while there was an unhealthy supply of festive indulgences on offer.
‘Mu-um!’
Lizzie’s protests about the cheese sandwich situation were swallowed by the holler of her fifteen-year-old brother from the top of the stairs. Katie winced. Had he discovered his depleted Chocolate Orange already? She’d planned to dash to the supermarket after her morning’s appointment (she desperately needed to stock the kitchen with foodstuff that contained vitamins after two weeks of eating crap anyway) and replace the nabbed segments before Elliot noticed, but it looked like she’d been rumbled. She should have nipped the chocolate-for-breakfast in the bud as soon as Boxing Day was over, but she’d rather enjoyed indulging too, to be honest.
‘Where’s my tie?’
Katie released a giant sigh of relief. She was still safe.
For now.
‘Didn’t you put it away safe in your underwear drawer at the end of term? Like I told you to?’
Lizzie sniggered as she clicked the top of her Tupperware lid into place. ‘Elliot doesn’t even have an underwear drawer anymore, Mum. Most of his clothes are on the floor and any that have made it into drawers are in shoved in at random. When was the last time you saw his room?’
She was in it only a matter of hours ago, actually, creeping around using the torch on her phone to guide her, but she’d been so delirious with hunger, so set on her mission, she hadn’t stopped to survey the state of her teenage son’s bedroom.
She didn’t tell Lizzie this.
Life didn’t used to be like this for Katie. She didn’t used to sneak around the house, hunting sugar fixes in the dead of night because she was stressed and unable to sleep. She hadn’t felt like a harassed madwoman back then, one who always seemed to be on the verge of tears or an empty Nutella jar away from throwing back her head and howling. Eighteen months ago, her life was pretty perfect. She’d enjoyed her job as a bookkeeper at the haulage firm she’d worked at for most of her adult life, she’d had a fantastic husband who was an amazing father to their son and daughter, and they had a gorgeous Georgian property on the seafront of Clifton-on-Sea, a small seaside town in the North West of England. Life was idyllic, with the promenade across the road and the beach beyond, the cliffs just a few minutes’ walk away with their stunning views, the harbour with its restaurants and fresh fish and chips at the other end of town. And the house was everything she’d ever dreamed of when she’d imagined starting married life with Rob; large, airy rooms with high ceilings and original fireplaces, a homely kitchen with a sofa at one end and high-gloss cabinets and worktops at the other, and a master bedroom overlooking the sea. Yes, life had turned out perfectly for Katie. Okay, so her boss – who also happened to be her father-in-law – thought it was appropriate to refer to the female members of staff as ‘birds’, and she’d barely caught sight of Rob since he’d started an introduction to French course at the community centre, but she was happy. She’d thought Rob was happy too, until she learned it wasn’t just French he’d been introduced to at the community centre, but the stunning, stretchmark-free and legs-up-to-here tutor. French, it transpired, really was the language of love, and Katie had been dropped like a hot pomme de terre.
Bastards, the pair of them.
‘It isn’t there!’ Elliot was back at the top of the stairs, yelling down an update on the tie situation.
Katie dropped the milk-soaked kitchen roll into the bin after making sure she’d mopped up every last drop and headed out into the hallway to peer up the stairs. ‘It must be in your room somewhere. Have a good look.’
Elliot sighed, long and hard. ‘I have looked. It isn’t there.’
‘It must be. Look again. Properly. But please hurry. We have to leave in …’ Katie craned her neck to look at the kitchen clock. With a yelp, she dashed back into the kitchen to rifle through the basket of clean washing that had yet to be sorted into piles, locating a ruffled blouse that she could get away with wearing without having to iron it. Katie – and the kids – had to be out of the house in less than five minutes and she wasn’t even dressed yet. Wasn’t parenting supposed to get easier once the kids gained a bit of independence? She couldn’t remember feeling this frazzled when Elliot and Lizzie were babies, but then she’d had youth on her side back then. And a husband to share the load. Rob and his infidelity were the gift that kept on giving.
‘Mu-um!’ Elliot was back at the top of the stairs before Katie had even stepped foot out of the kitchen with the blouse in hand. ‘It isn’t up here.’
‘It must be.’ Unless Elliot’s tie had grown legs and scuttled away (many objects in the May household had a tendency to sprout limbs and hide themselves away, mostly remote controls, the pens Katie kept in her handbag, and every single teaspoon they owned).
‘I’ve looked everywhere. It isn’t in my room.’
‘Where else would it be?’ Katie didn’t hang around for an answer. She needed to throw herself into some smart-ish clothes and get the hell out of the house before they were all late. She was in the middle of wrestling on a pair of black trousers (they’d fit before Christmas, she was sure. She really needed to cut out the sweet stuff) when Lizzie poked her head around her bedroom door, dangling a bottle-green tie with the school’s crest embroidered on the front between her fingers.
‘Where did you find it?’ Lizzie and Elliot attended the same school and wore the same uniform, but Katie knew the tie belonged to her son as it was still knotted for ease (or laziness, to be more accurate).
‘On top of the fridge.’
Katie opened her mouth to question why Elliot’s tie would be on top of the fridge, but it was a useless enquiry. She wasn’t sure why half the things happened in this house any more.
‘Great. Thanks. Can you give it to Elliot and get your stuff ready? We need to leave. Now.’ Katie yanked the trousers over her hips, ignoring the sound of ripping threads, and prayed she’d be able to zip them up.
By some miracle, Katie managed to coax the zip to fasten on her trousers and throw on her blouse while only overrunning by a couple of minutes. Lizzie was already waiting in the car as she ran from the house, yanking a hairbrush through her shoulder-length hair, with Elliot – now wearing his tie and with a slice of toast clamped between his teeth – throwing himself into the front passenger seat as Katie started the engine.
‘I’d rather get the train.’ Elliot tugged at the triangle of toast and chomped on it as though the bread had offended him somehow.
‘You can get the train home later, and I won’t be offering chauffer service every day. It’s only because I need to go into town anyway.’ Katie wound down her window despite the freezing temperature outside. She’d grown up in the small seaside town, but she never took her surroundings for granted, and the smell of the salty air sti
ll filled her with joy. She’d fallen in love with the house that would become her family home because of its large kitchen, its en suite master bedroom and the beautiful period fireplace in the living room, but mostly she’d fallen for its seafront location. She would never grow tired of throwing open the curtains in the morning to be greeted by the golden sand and the rippling sea beyond. It was a breathtaking sight, even on a gloomy January morning.
‘Why are you going into town so early anyway?’ Lizzie asked from the back seat. ‘Have you got another interview? Or are you signing on? Are we skint?’
‘We’re not skint. We’re fine.’ Coping, at any rate. Rob was still covering his half of the mortgage and providing for his kids (he hadn’t abandoned them completely, no matter what Katie thought of him) and they’d had a bit of extra income from their holiday let over the festive period. Katie had stuck it out at her father-in-law’s haulage firm for a couple of months after Rob left her, but eventually she’d felt she had no choice but to leave as she felt herself turning into a paranoid wreck. Who’d known about the affair? Her father-in-law, probably, but what about Lesley in payroll? Or Nancy down on reception? She’d handed in her notice, sure she’d be able to find a new job quickly with her qualifications and experience.
She was still job-hunting, more than a year later.
‘I have an appointment, that’s all.’ Katie didn’t mention the appointment was with her solicitor as she didn’t want Lizzie worrying about divorce proceedings. ‘Jack! Hello!’ She waved out of the window as her neighbour staggered out of his house with a child pulling on his hand as he tried to manoeuvre a buggy onto the path with the other. An older child was already flinging open the gate, even as his father instructed him not to. Katie flashed him a look of solidarity.
The Accidental Life Swap Page 27
