‘You forget that Flo is married and verging on boring. The beginning of a sexual relationship should be exciting, almostelectric. You need to stride into her room and throw shit down,’ Phoebe says with some force.
‘You make me sound like a wrestler,’ I say, flaring my nostrils.
‘Have you been getting your abs out?’ she asks.
‘Yes. I grease them up with olive oil, put on a toga and feed her grapes.’
‘Ugh, that’s an image I don’t need. But honestly, besides your tepid love life, how is it all going? Really? I know you and this Chloe girl are having a good time but what about the other girls? Is there a real business opportunity here? Because after I finish uni, I need work and I think Uncle Lorenzo would have wanted me to come to Ibiza.’
I don’t know what to tell her. I’ve had old Miguel giving them massages; we got into a fight at a beach rave; we went on a hike with a snake; Chloe has lost her job and been attacked by ants. It’s going swimmingly.
‘I’m trying, Phoebe. I hope I’m giving them what we advertised,’ I tell her.
‘Is it sunny? Is the pool topped up? Isn’t that half of it?’
‘I did paint their nails today. Turns out I still have skills,’ I say.
‘Fun girly times. Well done. Have you done things with mushrooms yet? You’re good with mushrooms.’
‘Are you still talking about sexual things?’
‘Fuck, no. You’re so crude, Ben,’ she says, laughing. ‘Well, three more days…I’LL TAKE A SHOT…Love you, you tosser!’
I don’t know if Phoebe was saying that to me or someone else but she hangs up the phone abruptly. She is my party sister. And I hate to admit it but she’s right to a point: I’m engaging in risky, electric sex with Chloe that is both lustful and addictive.I ache for her, I ache after her, but I’ve not had this feeling in an age. I’m curious about it but also scared by what it all means.Isit the secrecy which makes this so exciting? Is it the villa? Is it the possibility that this could be something more? Love. Is this love?God, I’m an idiot to think that much.
I hear the shutters closing in one of the bedrooms. It’s late and we’ve had a quiet day. Phoebe seems to think it’s a hive of activity here but really these women just want to bask and rest. They want to play UNO after dinner and not have to wash up. They love to nap and be fed, read books, lie in the heat without interruption, properly disengage from the world and let their mental loads evaporate into the Ibizan sun. We do have three days left though and I wonder if I need to plan a couple more activities to fill the time. I scroll through my tablet. There’s a man called Antonio in the Old Town who can come over and do yoga with them. He even has a long wizard beard. There’s a whole video here about cleansing their auras with a touch of sage.Or I could take them swimming in the sea caves? Could that go wrong? Because that’s what this retreat needs – a jellyfish attack.
‘That looks like fun,’ a voice says behind me and I smile when I turn and see Chloe standing there in a vest top and little shorts.
‘Look who’s the snooper now?’ I joke. She laughs, taking a seat on the sofa next to me, curling up with her legs crossed. ‘It’s late, how come you’re still up?’ I ask.
‘Oh, couldn’t sleep. Came down to get a drink. Are you OK?’
‘Of course I am, you’re here.’ I don’t know if that sounded too desperate, too cheesy, but it’s true. I like seeing her face, having her close. There’s no point in trying to play it cool as we’re going to be living together for the rest of the week. She smiles, avoiding eye contact, almost looking at me in disbelief. ‘You don’t believe me?’
Chloe smiles and sighs. ‘I’ve just never met someone like you. It’s very black and white, no holding back. London, and the men I usually meet, are usually coloured with a bit more?—’
‘Bullshit?’
She laughs. ‘That’s spot-on. I like your honesty and intuition when it comes to all of us. It’s rare and a little bit…magical.’
The compliment is wildly lifting. ‘That’ll be the island, the villa. It has that effect. I think it comes from my uncle. He always had this place open, he was a very generous host – thoughtful. He knew how to help people holiday,’ I tell her.
‘So, you’re saying you’ve been possessed by the spirit of your dead uncle?’ she says.
‘You make it sound like a bad horror film but yes, kind of,’ I say, smiling. I point to the photo on the wall behind us. ‘That’s him.’
She turns to look at the picture, studying it with care. ‘Is that you in the front with the highlights,’ she asks.
‘Yep. I was twenty-one so allowed that mistake. Uncle Lorenzo is the guy on the end.’
She looks at him and smiles. ‘I get the feeling he never married, no kids?’
‘That we know of…’ I say. ‘He was quite the party animal. It’s how he came to know Miguel and his partner. He had a big…’ Chloe’s eyes widen. I shake my head. ‘Heart.’
‘Must run in the family then,’ she says sweetly.
She grins and continues looking around the room, taking in the suit of armour that I don’t know anything about, the paintings and the very phallic sculpture in the corner. Her eyes rise to the ceiling. ‘It looks like there was something connected to the ceiling on those hooks. Did he have some art hanging there or was it a feature of the house, like for a pulley system?’ she asks curiously.
