‘Who said she was happy?’ I say.
‘You did.’
‘No, I didn’t. I sat at that lunch and heard that she’s got a great job, she’s got security and she’s learnt to balance her time better. She sees her nephews every other weekend and knows not to wear her burnout like some badge of honour. But there’s no twinkle. When she was here, she glowed out of every pore, she was luminescent. I think there was a reason why.’
Ben’s face looks serious and panicked for a moment. ‘I told her to go back to London. I broke it off because I thought it was important. It was the best thing for her.’
‘To be alone?’
‘You know what I mean. To focus on the right things,’ he tells me.
I frown, a little disappointed with him. ‘Ben, you have sisters, right? Sisters with kids and careers and marriages? You never choose just the one, there is no plan. You simply embrace the lot when it comes your way and you juggle like fuck.’ I look up, distracted by the sound coming from the rooms: possibly teens fighting over bedrooms and Mike playing referee. ‘Usually until you burn out and need to come on a retreat.’
Ben laughs and pulls out a platter of fruit from the fridge, silently listening.
‘You could have made it work even with her new job. Chloe really liked you and she’s back in London now thinking you never felt the same. You never told her how you really felt about her, did you? I heard about the airport,’ I tell him.
‘The airport felt like a sign,’ he mumbles.
‘You could have written her a letter. Sent her some flowers,’ I tell him. ‘Instead, you’ve stayed away.’
He doesn’t look me in the eye. ‘It’s better this way. This makes sense, for her?—’
‘BEN?’ I say loudly, conscious I’ve gone into Mum voice. ‘Christ, you’re one of the most intuitive people I know. I spent a week with you fixing me, giving me everything I needed, and it pains me that you can’t show yourself the same kindness. Never mind Chloe, what do you want?’
‘Zara? Why are you being so…mean and shouty?’ he says, pouting.
‘Because I know you love it here and love what you do. But I also know that you cared for that girl deeply, and as far as I can see, you’ve cut that off at the roots. You haven’t even given it a chance. Like you were almost too scared to be loved back. Like you don’t think you’re worthy.’ I take a breath from having to almost tell Ben off. He can hardly look at me. It’s because I speak the truth. I wish my teens knew that much. ‘You deserve good things, Benny boy, and love is the very best of those things. Big and messy and wonderful love that never feels real because it’s such a force of nature. It burns and evolves and grows wildly. It doesn’t always make sense.’
He stares at some drawings on the wall, his gaze misty, as if remembering what he felt for Chloe.
Boy, I heard what you felt on a number of occasions. This place is made of stone but it’s not soundproof. ‘Personally, I think the both of you together in whatever way it happens would be a wonderful thing,’ I say.
‘You do, do you?’ he asks, grinning.
‘Ben, I’ve planned my outfit for your wedding, and I’m not even your mother.’
He laughs. I don’t know if my words have made a difference but if they have, I want good seating at this wedding, at least second row from the front. I go over and give him the biggest of hugs. He hugs me back.
‘You deserve love,’ I say.
We stand there for a moment as he takes that in, soaking up the quiet of this wonderful villa, that infamous pool, the glorious Ibiza sky.
‘Thank you,’ he whispers into my ear.
‘You’re welcome. Now please tell me you’ve got mejamón. I dream about yourjamón.’
‘Jesus, can you just stop hitting on him, Mum. It’s embarrassing,’ Bella suddenly screams from the stairs.
‘BELLA!’ I scream in response.
‘She’s got bras older than you, Ben,’ she retorts.
‘BELLA!’
BEN
It was Phoebe’s idea. An artists’ retreat.Get in some easels, paints, brushes, and people can paint the views. Get in some fruit. Grapes! Bro, you could do life modelling! Work on your poses. Curl that arm in and look like you’re thinking. Manscape the pubes! Charcoals! Canvases! Paper!
