‘Oh, it was a day of surprises. The snake, the fight, you telling me you had a sandy flange,’ I say, hoping my humour hits.
Chloe throws her head back and the sound of her laughter is hugely satisfying. A goat looks at her strangely and trots away.
‘You know that a flange is used to strengthen piping. It’s like a joint. I have no idea where that word came from. I’m so sorry,’ she says, trying to contain her laughter. ‘I feel like a fool.’
‘You shouldn’t apologise. I wouldn’t have let it go there anyway,’ I tell her.
‘Go where?’ she asks.
‘You were out of your mind. I’m not like that.’
She takes a moment to digest what that means. ‘Well, I assumed that anyway. Because of Miguel and because you’re…’
I crease my eyes at her. ‘A gentleman?’
‘Is that a term for it here? Because that’s cool.’
‘You mean a term for being a respectful man?’ I ask.
We both stand there for a moment looking at each other and trying to work the other one out. I was raised by four women, they would hang my guts for garters if I was any other way. That’s not to say I don’t want to be close to Chloe. I do. Right now, in the middle of this awkward apology, my urge to kiss her is strong.Or have I just been single for too long? Am I reading something that isn’t there?
Before we can iron out our misunderstanding, a goat barges into her and she shrieks, moving so it runs past. The goat comes back and she doesn’t quite know what to do. ‘Get in the barn, you dopey git!’ she yells.
I have to admit that it’s kind of funny as the goat does what it’s told. A few more run past and this time Chloe runs into me as she tries to dodge them, folding her body into mine. I put an arm around her and she looks up.This feels right. But she wants me to be a gentleman. That I can do. I stand back from her and hear the rusty gate of Renata’s farm scrape across the floor.
‘Bueno, bueno…the goats are allseguros,’ Renata says excitedly. She blows kisses towards us. She’s got food and water waiting for them. The goats are safe. I still don’t know why she has so much rope but I hope those hunters are alive too. ‘Agua?’ she asks us and we nod at the offer of a drink. We’ve got up and run down here without breakfast or sustenance and the goat-chasing in the rising heat has taken its toll. She ushers us into the kitchen of her beautiful farmhouse with its big stone sink and bundles of lavender and rosemary hanging above the oven. I’ve never been in here before, but I like its simplicity, the coolness of the terracotta tiles under my feet. I see Chloe gazing at the archways before looking at some bottles on the side of the kitchen, some cheesecloth and white mixture waiting to be sieved.
‘You make cheese?Queso?’ Chloe asks, looking at the apparatus as Renata pours us two glasses of water from a jug in the fridge.
‘No.Leche. Milk. I milk nuts,’ she says.
Even though as a chef, I’m intensely curious about the process, I do have to look away and bite my tongue, seeing Chloe blush and look so surprised. ‘With the almonds, of course,’ she says, downing some of her water.
‘Nuts in bag,’ Renata says, going over to the apparatus to demonstrate. ‘And then squeeze bag to getleche.’
Chloe’s eyes widen at her grip. Renata is getting every last drop there.
You go, girl. I bet Lorenzo liked that.
‘You try. Healthy,’ she tells Chloe, pouring her a shot glass of it.
‘Is it pasteurised?’ Chloe whispers to me.
‘I don’t know the Spanish word for that. Go on, drink your nut milk like a good girl,’ I say, smirking. She downs the shot then looks me in the eye, using her tongue to lick a bit off her lips. I pause. Heavily.I am a gentleman. I must remember to be a gentleman.
19
CHLOE
I sometimes wonder if this retreat is a fever dream. I’ll wake up on the plane soon and I’ll meet a yogi-style person in arrivals and then go to a lodge in the mountains and sit on a yoga mat and eat chia seeds and listen to pan-pipe music, breathing deeply, detoxing intensely. Instead, I’ve been to a rave, I’ve been in a fight, I’ve got incredibly drunk, taken on a herd of goats, and just downed some nut milk made by a wonderfully crazy Spanish lady. I don’t know what can happen if you drink raw almond milk but I’ll Google it back at the villa. I just didn’t want to be rude given the size of her very big gun.
‘Do you want to borrow my cap?’ Ben now asks me, carrying a basket of almonds and almond milk (squeezed by Renata’s fair hand) as we return to the villa along the dusty track. ‘It’ll keep the sun off.’
I nod and he takes it off, placing it on my head. Images of last night keep flashing into view. I think I may have thrown up in and around the vicinity of him. He carried me. We spoke about bras. I flashed my vag at him (my cheeks burn with shame recalling this again). We definitely didn’t sleep together butthere was contact, more hugging of sorts, warm and comforting. But it still didn’t fix the fact I was sandy and itchy so I rose early to fix that under a lukewarm shower. That was when I glimpsed Renata’s intimidating figure from my balcony. I say intimidating but up close the woman was no bigger than five foot.
‘Did you know Renata before you came out here?’ I ask Ben, curious about the banter they shared but also the care he showed her: the hand he put to her back, the double kiss he gave her as we left.
‘Oh no. I just came down here in my first week. I put Salsa in a box asking if she’d take her.’
