‘But why are you here? Why, Bella? What was so urgent that you needed to fly to Ibiza? Did we run out of milk or something?’
I see Bella’s face curl to a snarl and then, strangely, she looks over at Ben. ‘Well, it’s him, isn’t it?’
‘Me?’ Ben asks, confused.
‘Ben?’ I say.
She turns to face her mother. ‘Mum, you’ve been bloody mental since France. You threw our phones in the pool and then we get home and you tell us you’re going on holiday with Pedro bloody Pascal to find your peace. What the hell are we supposed to think?’
‘Well, of course he’s not Pedro bloody Pascal, is he?’ Zara shouts, pointing at Ben.
‘I’m really not,’ Ben says.
‘But look at him. He’s so good-looking.’ Bella says this almost incredulously. ‘Are you sleeping with him?’ she asks Zara, sadness suddenly visible in her eyes.
‘God, Bella…NO! What on earth?’
‘That’s so gross. You are so old. You’re embarrassing! I hate you for doing this!’ Bella squeals.
Ben raises his hand in a stop gesture. ‘Hey, no. You don’t talk to your mum like that,’ he says.
‘Who are you to tell me what to do?’ Bella replies.
I sit back on my stool, staggered by the volume and sheer spite coming out of her mouth.
‘I’m your mum’s friend. Calm down, hear her out. Talk to your mum with the respect she deserves,’ Ben says, trying to talk Bella down off this emotional cliff.
‘Seriously? Her “friend”? I can’t believe this. I am not calling him Dad, ever!’ she screams.
Zara covers her face with embarrassment. I bite my lip, trying to hold in my laughter.
‘Oh my fricking God, Bella. I am not with this man… How the hell have you jumped to that conclusion?’
Bella’s cheeks puff out, her complexion burning with rage. ‘Then why aren’t you wearing your wedding ring?’ she says, tears suddenly hitting her eyes.
Zara pauses, noticing her daughter’s sadness, and then she pulls her in for a hug. Bella breaks down, her arms reachingaround her mother tightly. Zara pulls at a chain around her neck to show her daughter that her wedding ring still remains about her person.
‘I lost it on the beach so I didn’t want that to happen again,’ she tells her as she sits back up again, holding on to Bella’s hand. ‘This is Ben and I am not sleeping with him. I’m also not sleeping with Miguel who drove us here because he’s gay. I’m not sleeping with Chloe or Jess either.’
‘Ewww, Mum.’
‘I’m just clarifying on all fronts. Perhaps I really did come here for some peace, some self-care. So, you came out here to stage an intervention? You thought I was leaving your dad?’
‘I don’t know. I thought I’d come out here and talk some sense into you. Give Pedro here a good slapping,’ Bella says.
Ben steps back from the counter and leans against the units again.
‘And then there’s our group chat: you telling us you’re getting into fights, and your social media. You’ve been at beach raves, dancing!’ Bella spits the words out in disgust like that’s a thing her mother shouldn’t be doing. ‘And then there was a pic of you by the pool and Ben was in the background and you had a bikini on and?—’
‘One. You never look at my social media. I share at least three memes a day with you and you never even like them. Two, am I not allowed to take photos with other men?’
‘Not good-looking men,’ she says. She continues snarling at Ben.
I have to admit that I’m finding this all mildly amusing.
‘Am I not allowed time to myself?’ Zara asks. ‘It’s literally been five days since I left.’
‘You left me with three boys, Mother. Farts, football and no one putting the toilet seat down: that’s all it is constantly,’ she complains. ‘Plus, you’ve never left us before. Not like this…’
