Chapter 17
17
Talking to Belle before the outdoor movie at Serenity had felt as easy as if Caleb had been talking to Cara, although Belle was less acerbic and didn’t tease the hell out of him like Cara did, but then they didn’t know each other well and he had to remind himself that their relationship was different.
He hadn’t seen much of Belle for the rest of the week until the Friday evening when he’d been in the restaurant chatting to a couple in their fifties. He’d spotted her pacing on the beach while talking on her phone, her white dress bright in the moonlight. She’d remained sitting on the beach long after she’d finished the call, hugging her knees like she needed a friend.
On the way to his car, Caleb had considered going over to see if she was okay, but she’d stood up and brushed the sand off the back of her dress and the moment had passed. He’d walked away, not wanting her to think he’d been watching, and headed home instead, but the image of Belle on her own looking sad and vulnerable stayed with him.
He’d woken late the following morning remembering fragments of a dream, a woman in white whose face he couldn’t see clearly.
A message buzzed on his phone.
I’m going to cook bullit de peix later. Come eat with us.
Somehow his mother-in-law Maria always knew when he needed comforting and a reason to not be on his own. Maria and Juan warmly embracing him into their lives because of his love for their daughter had meant so much and he’d clung on to the big happy family he’d gained as an adult but had missed out on growing up.
Caleb stretched out in the king-size bed. Cara had commented more than once that Solace was like a show home. The kitchen was barely used because he tended to eat at Spirit – or at his former mother-in-law’s most weekends – but he did love to cook. It just felt pointless only cooking for himself now. The same way his bedroom was neat and functional, unfinished without pictures on the wall or cushions scattered on the bed because it was just him. One wardrobe was full of his clothes, the other, which should have been Paloma’s, had remained empty. The only personal items were on his bedside table: a lamp, a small stack of books and a framed photo of Paloma. He had other ones in the drawer, photos from their wedding day and their brief few years together before their lives had been flipped upside down, but he still found it too painful to look at them.
Maria understood how the mornings were the worst for him, waking up without Paloma. The few times he’d woken up with someone else next to him the guilt had been all-consuming.
He thumbed a reply to Maria to say he’d see her later, threw off the bed covers, showered then made the first espresso of the day. He drank it on the balcony that overlooked the terrace, the mid-morning sun making the white of Ibiza Town further along the coast sparkle.
Paloma’s parents’ house was further up the coast towards the village of Cala Llenya. The drive always made Caleb think about how different his life would have been if Paloma had lived. He would probably have worked just as much but she’d have been by his side, running the restaurant at Serenity. A place that embodied the romantic and peaceful side of the White Isle, that had been her dream. His love for Ibiza had been born from the partying side of the island, so his focus had always been on giving the guests a good time rather than a quiet time. He’d loved how she was the ying to his yang. She’d changed him, some friends had argued tamed him, but he’d been fine with that, happy to put his lothario ways behind him because rather than spending occasional nights with random women, he wanted to spend his whole life with the woman he loved.
Children had been part of their long-term plans, but following chemotherapy, Paloma had gone through an early menopause. She’d been an incredible auntie to her eldest niece and nephew for three all-too-brief years. There were four more little ones now, the nieces and nephews Paloma had missed out on getting to know, but she lived on in their hearts. Maria, Juan and her brothers made sure of that. Caleb struggled with the memories, and talking about her made him relive his loss, reopening wounds he wanted to stay patched up. But he’d never had the chance to heal. The Torres Corchado family had embraced him when Paloma had brought him into her life and they’d clung on to him when they’d lost her.
Caleb swiped angrily at his tears and tried to concentrate on the road. The island had lost its charm without her. Yet with the roof down and the sun shining, the buffeting wind made him feel alive and guilty, always guilty for being the one still experiencing life, although he knew Paloma would chastise him for thinking like that, for being so focused on work that he was missing out on the things that had once made life so good. She’d have said watching a film with Cara or playing an online game with friends who lived thousands of miles away wasn’t really socialising. They’d planned a life of working hard but playing harder, but it didn’t feel the same without her.
Caleb parked outside Maria and Juan’s house. From the road it was unassuming, a single-storey building with white-washed walls and blue shutters shaded by trees. Their house felt lived in, homely and filled with love, somewhere he was drawn to yet was a constant reminder of the future he’d lost.
A narrow path filled with pots of flowers, herbs and cacti ran along the side of the house and the front door was open, as always. What was unusual was how quiet it was, no voices drifting through or kids careening about outside.
‘Maria?’ Caleb called from the dusky hallway.
‘ Estic a la cuina! ’ she shouted back, and Caleb followed the mouth-watering smell of onions and garlic frying into the rustic kitchen, the heart of the home and Maria’s pride and joy.
Conversation with Maria and her family was usually a mix of Catalan and English and after twenty-four years on the island, Caleb effortlessly switched between the two. He kissed Maria on each cheek and looked around. ‘Where is everyone?’
‘They will be here soon.’
‘Do you need any help?’
‘You can chop the potatoes.’ Maria gestured to the work surface as she stirred the onions and green pepper she was sautéing in a heavy casserole dish. She swept in chopped tomatoes. ‘How are you managing without Cara?’
Caleb took one of the peeled potatoes, started chopping it into chunks and shrugged. ‘We message each other every day.’
‘It is different though without your friend here. You lean on her as much as she leans on you.’ Maria tapped her fingers to her heart. ‘It’s not just about work.’
‘No, it’s not, but I’m doing okay, Maria.’
‘Good, I’m glad.’ Her tight grey curls bounced as she nodded. ‘Once you finish the potatoes you can chop the almonds.’
She gave the vegetables in the pan a stir then started chopping the parsley on another board. Juan, with their eldest son Lluís, was the chef at their family-run restaurant in San Carlos, but at home the kitchen had always been Maria’s domain. Caleb would argue that the same meal made in Maria’s kitchen always beat the restaurant equivalent. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud to Juan – he’d risk being lynched. Maria cooked with love for her family, long lazy lunches that lasted well into the evening.
Maria swept the parsley into a bowl and glanced sideways at him. ‘You are still coming over next weekend as well?’
‘Of course.’ Caleb finished with the potatoes and started on the toasted almonds. Maria would get them done twice as fast but she liked having the company of someone who didn’t try and take over. ‘But about that, you know how I sometimes bring Cara…’ He cleared his throat. ‘How would you feel about me bringing a new friend?’
Maria’s eyes narrowed, her olive skin crinkling. ‘What are you really asking me, Caleb?’
‘I’m asking exactly that: if you’re happy to have an extra person to feed?’
Maria’s neat eyebrows raised as she added the potatoes to the pan with a splash of water. ‘You know the answer to that: of course I am!’ On another board there were two different types of rock fish already skinned and boned which she set about cutting up into pieces. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and looked at him intently, her dark eyes hawklike. ‘You understand we will all be happy for you to find someone special.’
‘It’s not like that,’ Caleb stressed as he added the chopped almonds to a bowl of saffron, garlic and the parsley Maria had prepared. ‘She’s just a friend – the person who’s taken over from Cara – but a stranger to you.’
‘Like Cara was a stranger at first – although Cara will never be special in the way I’m suggesting, huh?’ Maria said with a gleam in her eye. ‘Or is it the same with this new woman who has taken over from her? What’s her name?’
‘Belle.’
‘A beautiful name.’
‘It is.’
‘Also a Spanish name like Isabella. Does she like women?’
Caleb forced himself to not roll his eyes and shook his head. ‘No, I don’t get that impression.’
‘Mmm.’ Maria stirred the potatoes frying in the pan. ‘Do you get the impression she likes you?’
‘Maria!’ he scolded, his reaction coming out harsher than he’d meant it to.
‘I’m sorry. I worry about you. We all do.’ She wiped her hands on a cloth. ‘Paloma would,’ she said softly.
Caleb breathed deeply as a tightness across his chest threatened to consume him. ‘I should never have asked about inviting her over. The simple truth is, she’s away from home and here on her own after having a difficult time from the little she’s said. She reminds me of Cara in that respect, so yes, I’m befriending her, that’s all. But it’ll just be me next Saturday.’
‘No, it won’t; it will be the two of you.’ Maria gave him a firm nod. ‘She is very welcome. You bring her.’
There was no arguing with Maria. Even if she hadn’t been his former mother-in-law, he would have done as she wished. He’d always respected her and had been happy to marry into the family, but his love for her had grown after losing Paloma. The strength she’d had in the face of tragic loss had floored him; she was the beating heart of the family and the one who held everyone together supporting them through their own individual trials and staying strong in the face of their greatest sadness. And she’d always been there for him, a shoulder to cry on even when she was struggling with her own grief.
Later that evening, when Caleb was sitting by himself on the wall at the end of the terraced garden, Maria joined him. The sound of Diego and àngel, one of his older brothers, arguing good naturedly drifted into the night. Life hummed around them: the scritch scritch of nighttime insects and other voices from the surrounding houses. A dog barked, which set another one off. Up at the house, àngel’s wife Gabriela was shouting at the children to get their shoes on, telling them it was late and they had church in the morning. Everyday family life was happening around him yet he was always on the periphery.
‘You are very thoughtful tonight.’ Maria stretched out her legs and grimaced. ‘And I’ve been on my feet too long today.’
‘The food was delicious as always, Maria. The company too. Thank you.’
‘And thank you for your help.’ Maria placed her hand on his where he was leaning on the wall and patted it. ‘You are thinking about Paloma, sí ?’
‘Always.’
‘It’s hard for you to be here, I understand. It’s hard for me when I see you too. You remind me of Paloma and how happy she was. You make me wonder what would have been if she’d lived.’
Caleb caught his breath. The view down the hillside of silhouetted trees and the other houses glowing golden in the darkness became blurred with tears. Nothing good came of wondering about a different life, one filled with children, laughter and happiness, yet he couldn’t help it, particularly when spending time with Paloma’s family was wrapped up in that loss.
‘I can also see you are conflicted,’ Maria continued. ‘The way you talked earlier, as if needing my permission to invite someone else into your life whether as a friend or more. You have been part of our family for twelve years, Caleb. Nearly five of them without Paloma.’ Maria curled her fingers between his, her plain gold wedding band glinting in the moonlight. ‘I miss her with my heart and soul, my whole being, but I have the rest of my family to think about, to be strong for. I’m fortunate to be surrounded by family and love every day. No one will ever replace my daughter, but I have my sons to focus my love on, their wives and partners and more than anything my grandchildren to help me heal. I’m sad for you, Caleb, that you haven’t found anyone to fill the hole Paloma left. Please don’t believe any of us would think any less of you for wanting to find love again.’ She leaned close and held his cheeks in her hands. Her face was soft and hopeful, filled with understanding as she looked at him intently. She released him and stood. ‘Now I must go and help find shoes and say goodbye to my grandchildren before their poor mother explodes with frustration.’
After spending the evening wrapped up in a bubble of love with Maria and her family, Caleb’s loneliness was acute when he returned to Solace. The villa should have been somewhere he found comfort, but it was with Cara and Paloma’s family, and when surrounded by his guests and colleagues, that he felt most at peace. Solace was beautiful but empty, and yet he couldn’t give it up.
His thoughts turned to his conversation with Maria about Belle. Over the last couple of weeks he’d found himself noticing her more and more. He’d tried to convince himself he was just keeping an eye on how she was getting on with the job, but he’d found it hard to shift his attention elsewhere, because there was something about her that… what? Captivated him, was that it? He had told Maria the truth about Belle reminding him of Cara. There was the same vulnerability and history of them needing to escape: Cara from an abusive relationship in Australia, and Belle… well, he was still trying to figure her out. She was running away from something, or perhaps it was more to do with her trying to find something.
There was a stark difference between Belle and Cara though, in the way he looked at her, his attention zoning in on the curve of her hip in that white dress or her full lips as she talked or laughed. Fuck, that joyful sound that made him want to make her laugh. These unexpected feelings left him puzzled and confused, because it was more than her being an attractive woman. It was the way she made him feel when he was around her, the pull that could be passed off as friendship, the way her company was easy, like Cara’s, except that he didn’t fancy Cara.
Maria was right about the hole Paloma had left; it had been patched up on occasion but it always reopened like an old wound. In his line of work it was impossible not to meet women; he was friends with Paloma’s younger brothers Tomàs and Diego and they’d often been the instigators. And it wasn’t as if he’d never been tempted, but it had just been sex, nothing more. He’d also learned that the guilt and sorrow he felt the morning after took weeks to get over, trying to relearn again and again how to let go of Paloma. He couldn’t see how he ever could.