He pushes me one last time before walking away in the direction of the women. I stand alone as the sky starts to lift, the horizon starts to peel away and shades of red and amber layer on the sea, the sun starts to rise slowly, shafts of light peeking through. I watch the light appear but then I turn my back on it and fall to the ground, to my knees, the world slowly spinning around me. Something awful has just happened. But as I work out what that might be, everything goes black.
37
CHLOE
I sit next to the villa pool, looking out at the blue sky, rolling my toes along the warmth of the stone.Was this a holiday?Sometimes it felt unreal, ridiculous, like a figment of my imagination. It seems like a lifetime ago that I arrived, thinking I’d be eating interesting salads, reading books and meditating on hills. But I chased goats, I went to a nudist beach, I lost a job, I helped construct acroquembouche. And I fell in love. I’m not sure how you’d fit all of that on a postcard.
I know that I fell in love because of how much I hurt when the man in question told me through his drunken ramblings that he didn’t feel the same way.I’m just being sensible. I exhale. That was me. I am sensible Chloe. I used to overthink it all, I used to weigh up all the things that could go wrong. But Ben taught me to trust my gut a bit more, to let go. He fixed this broken shell, reached into my chest, found that heart of mine and made it beat so loudly. He made me spontaneous for once in my life. I was always confused by what was happening, but I didn’t hide any part of how I was feeling. He obviously felt differently. I didn’tthink you could break up with someone you’ve only known for the best part of a week, but I guess this is where we are.
‘Here. I think hydration might be the only way to get us through this,’ Jess says, appearing next to me with a bottle of water. We didn’t wait for the end of the wedding or to watch the sunrise. Miguel caught up with us in a corner of the garden and offered to call us a taxi back to the villa. When we got here, Jess got me upstairs and we both passed out on her bed, her body curled around mine as I cried myself into some sort of slumber.
‘With Ben still MIA, Miguel said he’s going to drive us to the airport,’ she says.
‘In the jeep? Zara’s hair won’t survive,’ I try and joke. Zara’s in the pool with Bella, having one last dip before this holiday comes to an end and we go back to London. I reckon she thinks I’m just immensely hungover, sitting here catatonic, looking into space with my sunglasses on, instead of desperately heartbroken. We don’t even know where Ben is but he’s not followed us home. I take a chug of water. Jess looks just as confused, keeping me company. Now she knows the true nature of our relationship. But she seems just as thrown by the change in Ben’s character at the wedding from the warm host who’d revealed himself to us this whole week.Was it all just an act?
‘You know, I think Ben was really drunk. I don’t think he intended to say what he did,’ Jess says, sitting on a sun lounger opposite me.
I shrug. ‘In vino, in veritas…isn’t that the saying?’
Jess has no reply to that, but disappointment floods her face, as if she had hoped that all of this would have had a happier ending. ‘Where do you think he is now?’
‘Waiting for the next bunch of ladies at the airport?’ I say cynically.
She pouts.
We all thought we were more than holiday commodities.Maybe not.
‘Well, when we get to London, how are you getting home?’ she asks me, trying to fill the silence.
‘I was just going to jump on the train,’ I tell her.
‘No, you’re not. Dean is picking me up from the airport with the girls. As long as you don’t mind sitting between car seats, we can give you a lift,’ she says.
‘Ah, that’s so kind, but it’s family time, you don’t have to?—’
‘You’re family now. Ibiza family. No arguments,’ she tells me, smiling. Ibiza seems to have lit Jess up in all the best ways. I always got a sense of warmth from her, from the first day that we met, but now something tells me she’s taken a breath, she’s relaxed, more comfortable in her own skin.
‘Is Ben still at the Frenchy wedding then?’ Zara asks, lifting herself out of the pool. She grabs a towel to dry herself. She remains none the wiser to his cruel drunken admissions on the lawn earlier this morning and neither Jess nor I know how to explain any of it to her.
‘I think he had some things to settle up,’ Jess explains. ‘In fact, Miguel is going to take us to the airport just in case Ben doesn’t get back in time.’
‘Oh man, really? That’s a shame. It would have been nice to have said a proper goodbye,’ Zara says. She looks at Jess and me, trying to figure everything out. ‘But what about…?’ she says, looking at me pensively.
Jess shakes her head at her, trying to be discreet.
‘LADIES!’ Miguel exits the kitchen carrying plates of toast and a big pot of coffee, heading to the table. I smile because it’s not the fresh sourdough we’re used to; this toast is square, white, spongy and crudely buttered but it may be the perfect antidote to our wedding hangovers.
‘The girls were saying Ben is still at the wedding,’ Zara says to Miguel.
‘Yes,’ he says. ‘He was…he needs to…he has flat tyres. So flat. His whole car broken.’
Yes, exactly, Miguel.He had a complete breakdown, that’s how it felt at least.
‘Is he OK?’ Bella asks, earwigging into the conversation.
‘Come, we eat Uncle Miguel’s toast!’ he says, trying to avoid the conversation. ‘I butter it myself. We toast your departure and the friends we have made. I thought the week was a great success,’ he announces, pouring us out shot glasses of juice.
‘There better not be anyHierbasin that,’ I tell him, trying to lighten the mood.
