The House Swap: An absolutely hilarious feel-good romance

by Jo Lovett

  He opened his eyes wide, tried to blink his sleepiness away, smiled at her and mouthed, ‘Thank you.’

  Matt handed James the baby and took a glass of champagne with one hand and ran a finger round the inside of his collar with the other. ‘Hot,’ he said.

  The baby was screaming blue murder. James cradled him horizontally and did some vigorous sideways rocking back and forth and miraculously the noise stopped. He’d discovered the trick from his brother-in-law when his twin nieces were babies. It was definitely another thing that upped his desirability as a godfather. People loved him for it.

  ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you,’ Matt said. ‘That noise.’

  The baby’s eyes looked firmly closed. James eased the rocking down to a gentle sway. And stood still. The baby’s eyes pinged wide open again. And his mouth opened wide too.

  James started rocking again and the crying stopped.

  He and Matt looked at each other. ‘He’s perfect,’ Matt said.

  James nodded. Perfect but really bloody loud and really bloody tiring. He was just the godfather and he’d been away for the past couple of months, but after one night he was knackered and had had enough. To be fair, he was jetlagged and the birthday party yesterday afternoon had been ear-splitting – a lot of little girls in princess costumes running around screaming – and he and Matt had had a late one last night. But still. Just one more reason that he never wanted a baby of his own.

  Five minutes later and he was ready to stop rocking. But every time he stopped, the baby cried again and everyone turned to stare like he and Matt were murderers.

  ‘Hello, my beautiful,’ Becca crooned, taking the baby out of James’s arms. Nothing happened. No noise other than a cute, snorty, satisfied little sigh. She wasn’t rocking at all. ‘I’m going to go and give him a feed.’

  ‘And we can go and get another drink,’ Matt said to James.

  The other godparents all had children. And again, they all had stories that reminded James, if he’d needed any reminder, of why he absolutely did not want children himself.

  ‘So James—’ Anna/ Emma’s husband, Richie, back from the very free-flowing bar, slapped him hard on the shoulder. The man had definitely had too much to drink ‘—you planning sprogs soon?’

  ‘Nope. Very happily single and childless,’ James said.

  ‘You should have kids. They’re fantastic. Emma has two. I have seven and counting.’

  ‘Okay. Cool,’ James said. He didn’t want to ask why. Bad joke? Many ex-partners? Whatever.

  ‘Do you want to know why?’ Richie leaned in. James leaned backwards to get away from his beer breath.

  ‘Sure,’ he said. No, he didn’t. No interest in a pissed idiot.

  ‘Emma and I have two together but I’m a sperm donor.’

  ‘Ah.’ James nodded. He snuck a look at Emma. She’d just finished downing a full glass of champagne and was reaching for another one. ‘Sounds great.’

  ‘We wanted to give something back, didn’t we, darling?’ He nudged Emma. ‘Em’s eggs were duff, whereas my sperm are great little swimmers, golden balls, what can I say, so we had our two via egg donation and we thought we’d like to help people in the same way. So I did it because Em obviously couldn’t.’

  Emma said, ‘Oh, piss off, Richie. Enough,’ and walked off.

  James walked off too.

  ‘Apparently he’s playing away,’ Matt told James. ‘Not for the first time. Poor old Emma. She and Bec were at school together. Such a shame that she married such a dickhead, frankly. Bec thinks she’s going to leave him.’

  James nodded. ‘Not surprising.’

  So many messy relationships out there. So many good reasons to stick to the single life.

  So many shit fathers, too. Like James’s own. Frankly, he’d probably have been a lot better off with someone like Richie. At least he owned up freely to his paternity.

  In the end, it was a relief to leave the christening and head to the airport. It had been great to see his friends, but this weekend had felt like an odd blip in the middle of his summer. Being in London, seeing everyone, had made him feel like an interloper in his own life. It turned out that he’d adjusted a lot better than he’d thought he had to life on the island, and he wasn’t ready for the experience to end. He had a lot of plans for the rest of the summer. Business, obviously, but leisure, too. He was going to go fishing, and sailing. Explore some of the nearby islands by bike. There was also genuinely the possibility that if Laura tipped her head to one side and asked him one more time to join her poker evening, he’d give in and go.

  Seriously; he was getting sentimental. Carry on like this and he’d be begging Cassie to remain lifelong pen pals. And, peculiarly, that thought made him smile.

  Fourteen

  Cassie

  Cassie waved the remote at James’s enormous TV and flicked aimlessly between a few more channels. It was so hard to concentrate on anything when you just wanted to know if your IVF was going to work. It looked like they were on track to retrieve eggs soon. The waiting after that would be even worse. Although at least she wouldn’t have to inject herself any more. It would definitely have been nice to have had someone to share that with. Pretty much everything else was better on her own, though, than her first pregnancy. Simon had been way more interested in his golf handicap – and flirting with other women – than in her and the baby.

  She checked another couple of channels. There was nothing she wanted to watch.

  The TV was huge. You actually had to turn your head a bit sometimes while watching it, it was so far from one side to the other. It was very flash – very James.

  Was that the real James, though? It was hard to tell. He’d been a bit of an arse to start off with but recently he’d been a lot more pleasant. Was he still trying to get his hands on her land or was he genuinely nice?

  What he definitely was, no question, was gorgeous. When she’d seen him in the café yesterday morning, just, wow. At her house, in the rain, grumpy as hell and mean, he’d still been undeniably handsome. But when he was smiling and friendly, he was something else.

  She’d have to be careful if he tried to persuade her in person to go down the ecotourism route. If he did too many of his disarming slow smiles, she might give in. Good job she hadn’t stayed to talk to him any longer yesterday.

  For goodness’ sake. She was smiling just thinking about him. Like she was developing some kind of idiotic crush. Better than obsessing about IVF but kind of ridiculous.

  Her phone rang. It was her mum.

  ‘Can we come and see you this weekend? I’ve managed to persuade your dad to move his History Club night.’

  ‘Of course. That would be lovely.’ It would be. One of the great bonuses of spending the summer in London was having the opportunity to see her parents. It was a lot easier for them to travel to London than to Maine from their new home in France. Next weekend wasn’t the best timing, because she’d probably have had the embryo transferred by then and be feeling at least as hormonal as now, and even more stressed, but she could always just pretend she was feeling ill. And seeing them would be a distraction from the constant thinking.

  She looked around the room as her mother told her about the new trees she’d just had planted in their garden.

  Her parents were going to love this flat.

  Good job her mother wasn’t going to meet the flat’s owner. She’d no doubt love James too and probably try to set Cassie up with him. Now that she’d retired, she was desperate to become a grandmother. Last summer when Cassie had visited them, her mother had invited two different ‘eligible young men’ over on consecutive days and had literally asked them, in front of Cassie, about when they’d like to start families. She had also let them both know, very explicitly, that they weren’t required as long-term partners, just as potential fathers. Sperm donors basically.

  At least she wouldn’t be upset in the slightest if Cassie got pregnant via actual sperm donation. Cassie had been able to as
sure her implications counsellor that her family and friends would have zero problem accepting her choice to do IVF in this way.

  Her parents would actually be ecstatic if Cassie got successfully pregnant now.

  She definitely couldn’t tell them about her IVF, though. They’d be too upset on her behalf if it didn’t work out. One of the reasons she’d moved to the States after her miscarriage had been that her parents’ grief on her behalf had made everything worse.

  Her mum had finished telling her about the garden.

  ‘Love you,’ said Cassie. ‘Can’t wait to see you on Friday.’

  She pressed red on her phone and picked up the remote again. The first channel she clicked on was showing a re-run of Call the Midwife. There was the most gorgeous baby on the screen.

  She wanted a baby of her own so much. Oh, God, what if it didn’t work out?

  No. She wasn’t enjoying sitting alone with the television and her thoughts. She was going to turn the TV off and get on with some work, maybe re-draft that last scene about the twins hiding in the grounds of Buckingham Palace.

  Cassie’s heart jumped as her parents emerged from the Eurostar Customs. Sometimes it was only when you actually saw people that you realised just how much you’d been missing them.

  ‘Cassie.’ Her mother swept towards her and enfolded her in a hug. ‘It’s so good to see my beautiful daughter.’ She leaned back a little out of the hug and inspected Cassie’s face. ‘Have you lost weight since last month, habibi?’

  Cassie had to fight hard to force back sudden tears. Oh God. These hormones were driving her insane. She was a complete mess – nearly in tears because it was so wonderful to see her mother. She was also a complete blob. Of course she hadn’t lost weight. She was retaining water at the rate of what felt like several gallons a day. She was wearing a swing dress today because she hadn’t been able to do up her favourite jeans earlier.

  ‘Are you eating properly?’

  ‘Mum. It’s lovely to see you. And I’m thirty-seven and I can cook and yes I am eating properly and no I definitely haven’t lost weight.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Her mum squished her back into another mammoth hug and Cassie nearly yelped out loud. Her boobs were so sore. It was four days since they’d transferred the embryo and honestly, she had so many bloody symptoms. It had to be a good sign, surely. A lot of the symptoms were very similar to ones she’d had the first time she was pregnant. All the information they’d given her at the clinic said that these symptoms were to be expected because of the drugs she was on, and not to read too much into them, but surely they had to mean something. Hopefully.

  ‘Hello, darling.’ Cassie’s father had joined them, panting slightly, with all the luggage. ‘You’re looking very well. It’s wonderful to see you.’ Cassie’s eyes filled again. Lucky that her mother had drawn her father into a three-way hug so that neither of them could see her face while she blinked the tears away.

  ‘Hello, Dad.’ She’d got rid of the tears, so she pulled away slightly, to get more comfortable. ‘You look well too.’ He looked red.

  ‘That’s what everyone says when I’m sunburnt. No-one should ever make Glaswegians live in hotter places.’ He grinned at her and she smiled back. They both knew that the grumbling meant nothing; he’d always be happy wherever Cassie’s mother was. He’d also always be scarlet for several months of the year, if that place was a sunny part of France, given that he could burn in Glasgow in April. ‘Come on. Let’s go and find this flat of yours.’

  One of the great things about Cassie’s parents staying was that they kept her very busy, which meant that she had a lot less time to lose her grip on sanity. It was hard to fit in too much secret googling of ‘positive IVF stories – real life symptoms’ around all the sightseeing her parents wanted to do.

  They had almost nothing in common other than a strong enjoyment of each other’s company. Her dad was a keen fan of military history. His top three London tourist choices were the Imperial War Museum, the Churchill War Rooms and the National Army Museum. Her mum had reached the point several years ago where she said she’d kill herself – or her husband – if she had to go to another war-related place of interest. She did, in fact, still often go with him, but she wore headphones and listened to 1970s music or audiobooks while tour guides talked.

  On her parents’ second morning in London, Cassie went with her father and Anthony and Juliet on a trip to see the pagoda in Kew Gardens in West London, while her mother went to the National Portrait Gallery.

  ‘Your father’s already spent forty minutes talking to me about the pagoda being used to test smoke curtains used to camouflage low-flying aircraft in the Second World War,’ she told Cassie while her husband was in the shower. ‘I can’t take any more today so I’d have to ignore him if I went, and your neighbours need to flirt with each other without me being a gooseberry.’ Cassie wasn’t a huge fan of military history either, but she could definitely use the pagoda and smoke curtain thing in her second London book.

  Annoyingly, she managed to leave her phone in the flat, but Juliet obliged by taking a lot of photos to help with her research. Anthony definitely featured in more of them than was necessary. Cassie’s matchmaking was going fantastically well.

  If her mum had gone with them, they’d have been in a cab both ways, but her father liked to ‘see London properly’ and that involved a lot of public transport. By the time they were on their way back, Cassie was almost beside herself with exhaustion. Surely this meant she was pregnant. Please let her be.

  ‘Cassie, it’s our stop.’ Her father was shaking her gently while Anthony and Juliet smiled at her. Oh, okay, she might have nodded off a little there. ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘Just a little bit tired. I’ve been working hard.’ She could use this tiredness as an excuse for not drinking any wine this evening when her mum’s cousins came over. One less thing to worry about today.

  As they opened the front door of the flat, the aromas of Middle Eastern cuisine and the sound of Cassie’s mother talking – presumably on the phone – reached them, and Cassie felt a wave of nostalgia for childhood and arriving home from school on her mother’s day off work. It was just so lovely having her parents around.

  ‘Well, it’s been wonderful to talk to you, James,’ Cassie’s mother said, blowing a kiss across the room at Cassie. James? Surely not James James. ‘Could I just ask you a question?’ She winked at Cassie. Oh no. Please no. She had that look in her eye. ‘Are you single?’ She listened to the answer and then laughed. ‘Saucy.’ Saucy? Honestly. What had James said? And what would he be thinking? Her mother winked at her and Cassie sighed. Incorrigible.

  Her mother was nodding and smiling and eyebrow raising now. ‘I’ll let Cassie know,’ she said.

  Cassie shook her head. Why had she left her phone behind today?

  ‘Great to talk. Bye.’ Her mother waved the phone at Cassie. ‘I like his WhatsApp photo.’ Yep, that was a good photo. ‘He has a very nice voice. Good sense of humour. He works in private equity. He’s good with your animals. Thirty-five. Single. No children. Straight. You know where I’m going with this. It’s like it was meant to be.’

  Cassie took her phone. ‘Yes. Serendipity. Absolutely.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Cassie’s mother nodded. ‘I’m looking forward to meeting him in person.’

  Cassie sighed again.

  ‘Ach, that’s enough teasing. I don’t think Cassie wants to marry the man she swapped homes with.’ Cassie’s father sauntered over, picked up a spoon and stuck it into the dish simmering on the hob.

  ‘I’m not suggesting marriage. That’s so old-fashioned. But I’m serious. I have a sixth sense. I like him.’ Cassie’s mother swiped the spoon out of her husband’s hand before he could get it to his mouth. To be fair, she’d never liked Simon, so she did at least have some sixth sense.

  Cassie’s father rolled his eyes and smacked a big kiss on her lips. Cassie’s heart clenched as she watched them. If she couldn’t find wha
t they had, she’d be better off single.

  ‘What did James want?’ she asked. She genuinely wanted to know and she also wanted to divert her own thoughts, because she was feeling tearful again.

  ‘He was just calling for a chat, to let you know how things are with Laura and the animals. But we had a much more interesting conversation than that.’

  Honestly.

  Fifteen

  James

  James was still laughing following his conversation with Cassie’s mother as he made his way up the field to feed the alpacas, checking his phone for messages as he went. She’d been hilarious. And possibly only half joking when she’d propositioned him on Cassie’s behalf, and he didn’t even mind.

  She sounded like a fantastic mother. Involved. Caring. Sober.

  It didn’t surprise him that Cassie seemed to have a good relationship with her parents. The way she lived, the homeliness of her house, the animals, the close friendships she evidently had with her neighbours, all seemed to point to someone from a stable family.

  He thought of Cassie’s mother asking him his height and shoe size, and chuckled again.

  Wow. Island living was clearly doing something to him. A few months ago he’d have found her questioning annoying or – if she’d been like Emily’s mother – terrifying, but somehow he’d been totally charmed, even if he was clearly being sized up as a potential father. So far off the mark it was untrue, but funny all the same. He could imagine how livid Cassie would have been if she’d been in the room.

  His smile dropped when he saw that a text had just come in from Ella. Guilt was never a welcome emotion. And he so often felt guilty when it came to her.