‘Yes,’ I say. ‘We watchedToy Story 2.’
‘I do love a sequel,’ she says, still smirking.
‘Indeed.’
I sit up sleepily, grabbing my cup of coffee and trying to replay last night, looking up at the past site of the sex swing. I still don’t understand how that would work. I gaze up to the ceiling again, those hooks must have deep steel connections to take the collective weight.
‘Morning, honey!’
I smile as I see Miguel standing there wearing patterned neon shorts, a bandana and sunglasses on top of his head. I pull the blanket up to cover my modesty.
‘She is up so maybe we can get these shows on the road?’ he says.
I look at Jess curiously. She’s in denim shorts and a vest top, a basket bag at her feet.
‘Ben’s at the markets so apparently we’re going on a little trip,’ she explains. ‘Miguel’s treat after the beach rave.’
‘I promise this time that there will be no fighting, just sunshine and the vibes,’ he says, throwing his hands to the air.
Jess laughs at his enthusiasm. I saw Ben’s tablet yesterday.We’re off to the beach, aren’t we? I can do that. It might be alovely way to see the coves of the island, get some vitamin D. It seems like a healthy and enjoyable summer activity.
‘But I can’t promise it won’t get a little filthy too,’ Miguel continues.
Or maybe not.
‘It is not far, ladies. Short hike, beach funand then we have lunch after. Yes?’
Today, Miguel is in charge of our expedition. The sun is shining and it’s nice to explore the island, to see more of its rocky trails, to get a hit of cloudless sky. This feels pure and good, except for Miguel’s mention of it being a bit filthy…Yeah, been there, done that, got the T-shirt. No. Maybe I’ll have a break from that with Ben not being here. I tip my head to the sun, enjoying the view of the white, rocky cliffs and the promise of the sea beyond the pine trees.
I notice we are at the top of a bluff; a winding road leads down to a cove by the beach. We’ve only been to a beach at night so far but what strikes me first is the colour of this cove in the sunshine. I’ve seen beaches on postcards, in limited palettes, looking slightly too perfect, but this one is different: it’s wild and stunning in its imperfection. The sea is a rich sapphire blue and there are rocky inlets, meaning nothing is straight: it meanders, it hides the pristine sand, the sheltering trees. I pause for a moment to take it in before an arm weaves its way into mine.
‘You like?’ Miguel asks.
‘It’s magnificent,’ I say, holding him close.
‘It is my local. Come, we walk…’ The winding path from the car turns into a wooden boardwalk, the warm sand under the soles of my feet a pleasant surprise.
‘Ben tells me your news,’ Miguel says, still linking arms with me.
I eyeball him.There is a lot of news. I hope it’s not sex news.
‘About your job. I am sorry,’ he says, giving my arm a sympathetic squeeze. ‘You are such a nice girl. I see it. I hope it all works out.’
‘That’s kind of you, Miguel.’
‘Yes, I’ve been round blocks. I know the nice girls. You humour an old man in silly shorts. I see it in your smile, the way you talk to everyone and no judge in your eyes,’ he says affectionately. ‘But you need to relax. Today, you relax.’
I nod and smile, exhaling deeply as we reach the beach. To be in the thick of it and close to the water feels like a dream. I watch as Zara runs into the sea like a big frizzy-haired mermaid, screaming in wonder at the clarity of the ocean and shouting that she can see her toes beyond the blue. Miguel walks on to find a place for us to stop. I think I can see that little island I saw from the cliffs near the villa. I inhale deeply.This is perfect. I turn to see Jess spinning with her phone to take a selfie, her hair flying through the breeze. I love this complete freedom for her. Until she stops to look back at the video. Her face freezes. She comes over to me and stands there, turning her back to the beach and looking out to the water.
‘Don’t move,’ she tells me.
I see some shock in her eyes. The only time I’ve seen that sort of shock so far on this holiday is from the Ibizan wildlife.What can you find on a beach? Crabs?‘Is it a snake?’ I ask worriedly.
‘Of sorts,’ she says.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I reply. I can’t quite read her expression. She’s in shock but also laughing, biting her lip.
‘I’m going to tell you to turn around but you’ve got to do it really slowly, like casual, like hey, that’s not such a big thing.’
