‘You too, Gabi. Thank you, sincerely, for the opportunity.’
‘Bye.’
‘Bye,’ I say.
Gabi hangs up and I sit there for a moment wondering if that just happened.Is it the heat? Did I hallucinate it? I’m glad I bought that suit now. I jump up and do a little celebratory dance, letting out a scream that echoes off the side of the cliff. And then, just like magic, a picture flickers up – another selfie of my nephews with George – and a strange feeling overwhelms me. Because for the past few days, I’ve been swept up in something here.Ben. I still have no idea what it is or where it’s going. The passion and lust are maddening. But in that small screen in front of me is a grounding reminder that there is a life for me beyond this quiet corner of the world. I was uncertain about my career before but it’s like Gabi has burned a route to how it can survive. In two days’ time, I’ll go back to London.My home. I was born there, my family is there, my flat is there, my professional future is there. I put my phone away, feeling revived. That phone call was energising, reminding me of another sort of passion, a career I worked so hard for, doing something I love.
Love. I ponder on that word for a little too long as I look out on to the ocean again.
It’s still early when I get back to the villa; I notice that the shutters of everyone’s windows remain closed. I have a thin veil of sweat on my body so I’m considering having a swim when I notice that the kitchen is a hive of activity. Miguel is in there and the counters are overflowing with produce.It’s only one extra body come to stay, Ben, don’t go overboard. I peer my head around the door to see Ben furiously kneading some bread on the counter. I look away because it’s forceful and mildly sexy.
‘Morning,’ I say.
Ben looks over to me, curious at my get-up. ‘I thought you were still in bed?’ he says, not taking his hands off the dough. ‘You went for a run?’
I’m not quite ready to tell him the truth about that. ‘Yeah, to catch the best of the day, the sunshine,’ I say.I just received amazing news, I think. News I want to tell everyone, that I know he’ll be happy about, but it doesn’t feel like the right time to tell him.
‘I thought I had more onions,’ Ben says, frowning as he frantically opens drawers and cupboards. I take off my backpack and sheepishly offer him the five onions I’ve hidden in there. I didn’t know how many snakes I would encounter. He shakes his head, taking the onions, but doesn’t question it. He’s obviously too deep in some sort of mad cooking flow state to engage in a conversation.
‘Can I ask what’s going on?’
Miguel, who’s furiously chopping tomatoes, stops for a moment. ‘So, I got a call this morning, someone is getting married in a lovely villa near Miramar, all beautiful and set up but they got some fancy caterers from Mallorca and they cancellast minute. Terrible. It is a small wedding but first thing I think,Ben.I call Ben.’
I look at Ben who is frantically making notes on a piece of paper. He puts the pencil behind his ear and folds his arms, looking into space. ‘The bread can prove on the way to the venue, I can cut the ham there too…Forty covers so I’m going to need more olives…I need the clams there by eleven so I have enough time to clean and soak them.’
I stand and watch for a moment. This is a Ben I’m not used to. Big and bossy but running on adrenaline, responding to pressure that wasn’t there before. It transforms him into someone I don’t quite know.
‘Yes, chef!’ Miguel says, saluting into thin air.
Ben does not reply but continues frantically kneading his bread.
‘A wedding?’ I ask Miguel. ‘That’s quite a big thing.’
‘I told this one, no pressure. I can find a restaurant last minute I am sure but you know him…’
That’s the problem, I don’t really, Miguel.
Ben’s knife chops furiously at the onions, like a blur across the chopping board. ‘Chives, I forgot fucking chives.’
I flinch to hear him swear, to hear his anger.
‘He is a hero.It is a wedding, Miguel, he say.We can’t have people feel sad or disappointment on the happiest day of their lives. I can help. We will save the day.And he put on his cape and fly into town to buy peppers.’
I laugh but it’s like Ben didn’t hear any of that. I go over to Miguel.
‘My boy is magic, you know,’ he says.
I know. But it’s to the point where he sometimes doesn’t feel real.
‘I’m sorry that I’ll have to abandon you ladies though. The fridge will be stocked with picky bits. I’ll get breakfast and lunch done before I go and?—’
‘A question,’ I ask, moving closer to the counter to distract Ben from his intense cooking trance. ‘How are you cooking for forty people with no help? How are you going to serve it all? Pour drinks? Are you going to be like that kid fromRatatouillewith the roller skates?’
He stops for a moment to laugh at theRatatouillereference. ‘Miguel was going to be my waiter.’
I look over at Miguel who shrugs.
‘I can help too. I’m no waitress or chef but I could?—’
