Page 50 of The Princess Sister Swap

Jack reached out for his cake with a nod of thanks. ‘Tansy Treloar, you have been on some incredible holidays. How many theme parks have you been to? And that amazing resort in Sardinia with five swimming pools where you got to do activities all the time. Would you really rather sleep in a tent?’

‘It would be fantastic,’ she said, eyes shining, and Clover joined in.

‘Please, Daddy! I’ve always wanted to sleep in a tent too, always!’

Arrosa couldn’t help but laugh. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve camped,’ she said. ‘And it can be amazing, but don’t get carried away. It can be hard to get the balance of blankets right. One moment you’re boiling hot, the next you’re freezing cold, and then, of course, if you need the loo in the middle of the night you have to walk across the dew-filled field to get to it and if you forget wellies that means soggy feet. Sometimes spiders and other creepy-crawlies can find their way into the tent, but on the other hand, there is something special about sitting around a campfire and looking up at the stars and telling each other stories. Toasting marshmallows, of course.’

Oh, dear. Both girls’ eyes had grown bigger and their expressions more excited, but Jack’s lips were compressed. She probably shouldn’t have said anything. ‘But five swimming pools in Sardinia sounds pretty amazing too. And you guys have a swimming pool at your house too. If Clem and I had had a pool of our own I’m sure that would have kept us busy.’

Her attempt to backtrack obviously hadn’t helped. Tansy turned to Jack, her face full of hope, her voice pleading. ‘Daddy,pleasecan we go camping?’

‘Sorry, Tansy, but absolutely not.’ He sounded adamant.

‘But...’

‘I said no. The subject is closed.’

Arrosa stared at Jack in surprise. He seemed like a very capable man to her. He was physically fit, and the lean muscles she was all too aware of didn’t seem like gym-built bulk but rather the muscles of a man who was prepared to put his hand to anything that needed to get done. He’d been raised around here, a local boy, which meant he was likely to be outdoorsy. Surely a couple of nights in a tent wouldn’t be that big a deal?

He caught her eye and she sensed that he knew what she was thinking.

‘It’s after six,’ she said. ‘Do you want a beer? You can walk back from here. And girls? How about I make you hot chocolate with marshmallows and we can take it outside and sit around the fire pit?’

The suggestion was met with approval and Arrosa got herself and Jack a beer, sending the girls out to gather some firewood from the log pile with strict instructions not to go anywhere near the matches until she was there, and showed them how to lay and light a fire properly.

‘Simone got a fire pit long before it was fashionable, thanks to Clem and my obsession with being outside in all weathers,’ she said as she spooned hot chocolate into mugs. She reached into the cupboard for the marshmallows. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get the girls so excited.’

She dropped a handful of marshmallows into each cup and added hot water before carrying the tall mugs over to the table. ‘Parenting must be hard enough without well-meaning outsiders stirring things up.’

Jack reached up and took one of the mugs from her and put it down, knowing he owed Rosy an explanation at the very least. ‘Look, I’m the one who should apologise. That was a bit of an overreaction.’ He winced. ‘I seem to have fallen into a pattern of promising to be a better father and then messing up at the first opportunity.’

Rosy set the mug she was holding down and pulled at a chair. ‘Don’t be silly. I completely understand. Now I’m an adult, I’m all about the thread count and a good mattress too.’

Jack exhaled slowly. He could, he should, leave it there. Let her believe he just didn’t want to rough it, that money had turned him into the kind of man who needed five-star service and all the trimmings. But he wanted her to think better of him. Needed her understanding in a way he couldn’t articulate.

‘It’s not that. I wish it were that simple.’

She pushed a curl behind her ear. ‘Jack, you don’t owe me any kind of explanation. Whatever your reasons, I’m sure they’re valid, but it’s really none of my business.’

‘As I mentioned earlier, the Treloar name isn’t particularly respected around here. My father, my grandfather, even my great-great-grandfather, were petty thieves, petty criminals, lazy vagabonds all. Go through the village’s history and you’ll find our name over and over, mentioned for public drunkenness, begging, theft. My mother was the complete opposite. She was—is—hardworking and no-nonsense, but she came down here on holiday and fell for my father’s charms, such as they were, and stayed. I don’t think it was long before she realised what a bad bargain she had made when she was left alone with me, working three jobs to try and keep food on the table and a roof over our heads.’

‘She sounds like quite a woman.’

He nodded. ‘She is. Not an easy woman. Life made sure of that, knocked the warmth and trust out of her early, but she is everything my father wasn’t. And she did her best by me.’

‘That’s all any of us can ask.’

He nodded. ‘She was always determined that, no matter how bad things were, we would have a holiday. Now I’m an adult I can see she needed to get away herself, leave her life behind for a few days, go somewhere where she wasn’t pitied or looked down upon.’

‘That’s understandable.’

‘Of course all we could afford was to camp. She didn’t have a car so we would take the bus and carry everything. We couldn’t go too far because it would be expensive, so usually we made it just over the border into Devon. And then we would find the most basic, cheapest campsite we could, set up our tent and live on baked beans and sausages, cooked over the fire, marshmallows as a treat.’

He could almost smell the sausages, hear the crackle of the fire and, despite himself, his mouth curled into a reminiscent smile. ‘Looking back, those were some of the happiest times we shared. She was usually too busy to spend much time with me, but those camping weeks we were together all the time. But with such limited resources we couldn’t do much other than walk, swim or hang out reading at the campsite. Probably exactly what she needed, but the older I got, the more I realised how different my holiday experience was to other kids’. One year she was getting the tent out and I told her not to bother. That I hated holidays with her. Why couldn’t we go on a proper holiday like normal people?’ He inhaled, the old shame filling him. ‘I’ll never forget the stricken expression in her eyes. She didn’t say anything, just put the tent away and we never went camping again. I’d give anything to go back and change that day, give anything to help her get the tent ready.’

‘Jack, I’m sure she knew you didn’t mean it, not really.’

‘But that’s just it. Ididmean it and she knew it. Oh, I have apologised since, many times. But I hurt her dreadfully that day, not just with words but with my contempt and carelessness, like my father before me.’

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