She walks hastily away from me, back into the house. That’s not gone well. I run my hands through my hair in frustration, kicking myself for overstepping.It was too much.I hear herrunning up the stairs. I can almost bet she’ll be barricading her door tonight.
11
DAY TWO
CHLOE
‘God, check you out: a day in Ibiza and you already look better for it,’ George says, sitting in his pyjamas with a cup of coffee in front of him while he cradles baby Thomas. I laugh and stand up, turning to give him a panoramic view of the cliffs, the sea, the perfection of the blue sky. ‘I think I hate you. Tell me how it smells,’ he says.
‘Like pine and salt,’ I reply, inhaling deeply.
He smiles but also bends down to smell his son’s dirty nappy; we are in very different places right now. ‘Well, I just wanted to check in. I’ve been keeping tabs on your location like you asked, but you look alive and well. Too well. You’re not in a horrible airless box room and you haven’t been kidnapped by a troop of Spanish monkeys.’
‘Does that happen?’ I ask.
‘Yes, it’s a terrible thing.’
‘How are the boys?’ I ask.
‘As joyful and loud as ever. Thomas wants to know if you’ve met Pedro Pascal yet?’ George says even though the baby is sleeping after pooing himself in his father’s arms.
‘I have,’ I say.
‘He’s not too showbizzy?’ George continues.
‘No, he’s very down to earth and friendly. Hisjamónis very good.’
‘I don’t think I want to know, sis. As long as thejamónis safe for consumption.’
‘You’re gross,’ I whisper, looking ahead, my camera work starting to get a bit shaky.
‘Why does it look like someone’s chasing you?’ he asks me.
I don’t want to explain or he’ll think I’m crazy. After last night’s abrupt ending, I went upstairs, simmering that Julian had called me on holiday and reduced me to tears by the poolside. But I was also confused by Ben and his agenda. I don’t need to be told how to live my life, but part of me knows he’s right. And I’ll admit I’m curious about him. The unpolished nature of this retreat, his backstory. Yet there’s something about him that almost feels too nice, too perfect. I can’t quite believe his charming veneer. So, when I opened my balcony this morning and saw him putting his trainers on and getting ready for a run, I did the same and I followed him. That’s why it looks like I’m being chased while I’m taking this call.
‘I’m following Pedro Pascal,’ I say, hiding behind a tree on this dusty cliff, tracking Ben’s movement along the path below.
‘That very much sounds like stalking,’ George replies.
‘I’m just trying to figure him out. He nearly confiscated my phone yesterday,’ I say, trying to justify my actions.
‘Really?’
‘Well, not by force. He offered to take my phone so work wouldn’t try and call me.’
‘Work called you? That’s not on…you’re on holiday,’ he replies
‘That’s what he said.’
‘So Pedro and hisjamónis a font of good advice. I like him already.’
I’m not listening properly. ‘I’m going now. Please check my location every day and kiss my nephews,’ I say, slightly out of breath, realising this bizarre check-in phone call might be worrying my brother. ‘The sun is shining. I went in the pool yesterday. I’m just being?—’
‘Cautious. I know my sister,’ he says. ‘Look, buy me a souvenir, don’t fall off a cliff and please try and relax a bit,’ he says, sounding concerned. ‘Just a tiny bit.’
I hang up.Relax. Yeah, what I’m doing right now is not relaxing and it’s probably a terrible idea. The problem is I don’t really run. Or hike. Or do any sort of physical activity. I walk to the Tube station, I stand on an escalator and I run the gauntlet to my office. I’m sometimes forced to climb stairs if the escalators are out of order but I wear sensible shoes and I’m never as out of breath as some of the old men commuters whose buttons pop around the gut area. I walk to and around the shops, up and down high streets, and sometimes across parks. But that is usually because I’m cutting through trying to get somewhere else. However, this is physical and outdoorsy. Wholesome fresh air and sunshine, but the heat is intense, mildly draining. I don’t think I’m wearing enough deodorant. Ben said there were snakes here.What if I get bitten? What do you do with venom? Do you pee on it or suck it out? Why the hell am I following him?To track him to a secondary location where he stores dead bodies and a one-eyed accomplice?
I think about his words last night. I’m not sure how you’re supposed to give advice to someone you’ve only just met but maybe I’m riled that he’s right? Because I went back to my room and fired up my laptop to check drawings when I should have been resting.Damn him.
