Chapter 31
CHLOE
‘Mike, she is here. She is sixteen years old and she bought a plane ticket to Ibiza and she got an Uber to the villa… I am not blaming you… Yes, I know what Bella’s like…
Yes, I am going to give her actual flamethrowing hell, but please, I need you to share in this rage and absolute confoundment…
I didn’t even know she knew where we kept the passports… ’
Zara is, shall we say, not in the best place at the moment. She’s veering between rage and panic and disbelief, and the way she’s pacing the patio slabs, I wonder if they’ll be there in the morning.
The reason for her fury and shock is this young lady, who, it would seem, managed to get to London’s Stansted Airport and jump on a flight to Ibiza.
I am incredulous because at sixteen, I didn’t even know how to get the bus around London.
She used YouTube to wreck the lock and now she sits before us, quietly eating a sandwich that Ben’s made her and listening.
She keeps studying the layers of her sandwich and nodding as she takes sips of her iced tea.
‘That’s not Lipton,’ she says to Ben.
‘I make it fresh with peaches. It means it tastes more of tea instead of sugar syrup,’ he tells her.
I don’t think that impresses her. He chucks a tea towel over his shoulder and stands back against the kitchen counters to look at her.
It’s like looking at a mini version of Zara, all the same sass with more piercings and eyeliner.
‘I’ll have some more tea. I like the addition of the mint, very refreshing,’ I tell Ben as I sit beside Bella.
We’ve both been tasked with making sure she doesn’t go anywhere, like hop back on a plane or swim into international waters.
We’re spending most of our time looking at each other, unsure what to say or do.
I can’t say I mind the looking part though.
‘So what music are you into?’ I ask Bella.
‘Blood Orange,’ Bella replies in deadpan tones.
I wrinkle my face in confusion. ‘You made a blood orange juice the other day, didn’t you, Ben?’ He bites his lip at my attempts to bond with the teenager. ‘“Best to You” is one of my favourite songs,’ I say. ‘I like blood oranges in many forms.’
This still doesn’t impress the young person in front of us. It would seem neither of us have any cool cards. We can still hear Zara’s phone call in the background.
‘All I am saying is sit Louis and Jay down and make sure they’re not part of this… Plus, how did she get to the airport? Which credit card? I can’t believe this… I can literally feel my hairs turning grey—’
‘Which hairs?’ Bella says, sniggering under her breath.
I furrow my brow at her. Now is not the time for jokes, Bella.
I can’t tell her that though. Instead, I watch as Ben tops up her drink and places a piece of pear and chocolate tart on a plate, sliding it over to her.
She’s still not totally convinced by us; I can see the suspicion in her eyes but also some angsty teenage grit that suggests she would quite happily fight me.
Bella eyes the tart cautiously and then starts eating it.
Out on the patio, I can see Jess pacing with Zara, trying to calm her down, offering her tissues and water.
Zara finally hangs up her phone. Shit’s going to go down, isn’t it?
I’ve seen Zara pull out a hair extension.
She walks into the kitchen and I can see she’s been crying.
She stands there for a moment and takes a deep, deep breath, all her sinews strained and poised for attack.
‘Phone,’ she says to Bella.
‘But—’
‘Nah. You don’t get to negotiate with me over that. You’ll get it back when we touch down in the UK; even then I might trade this for a Nokia 3610.’
‘What’s that?’ she asks.
‘You’ll survive.’
Bella slides the phone over the breakfast bar while Ben and I silently look on. It’s like being in a classroom and watching the naughty kid get their comeuppance.
‘Now please explain, daughter, why you, a child, thought you would get on a plane and leave the country to come here without any regard for your safety. You didn’t tell anyone, you’ve used your dad’s cards, you’ve taken time off college, you have scared the literal shit out of us… ’ Zara says, her voice getting louder.
I push a drink in her direction.
‘Correction. I also used my own money from my part-time job at Starbucks,’ Bella says.
‘So, you used your own money and that gives you the right to do all of this without any parental consultation?’
‘No… but—’
‘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 reaching around 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…’
I see Jess hovering at the doorway of the kitchen and Zara looks directly at her. ‘And maybe that’s where I’ve got things wrong for so many years, I’ve invested everything I have, all my spare time and energy and love into you guys. So when I started not to get it back, it… hurt.’
Bella pauses for a moment, tears clouding her eyes. ‘But we love you. I know we take the piss out of you a lot, but we do love you.’
‘I know. Sometimes I don’t always get that feeling from you three though. I get demands, criticism, sarcasm and low-key bullying.’
‘Low-key? Cringe, Mum,’ Bella says, scowling.
Zara puts her hands out to illustrate that her daughter has indeed proved her point.
‘But I do bloody love you and I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much,’ she says to Bella, putting an arm around her and kissing the top of her head.
‘But can you understand why I needed some space? Some time to be on my own?’
Bella immediately looks guilty, understanding what her mum is saying: all of that wisdom sinking in. ‘I am too much sometimes. I get that. I’m sorry.’
‘Never apologise for being too much, sweetie. It’s also what makes you great. Just appreciate that sometimes I need a break from the muchness.’
She nods, still holding on tightly to her mother’s hand. ‘You do look really well. Like healthy. Your skin is literally glowing,’ she says, reaching up to touch it.
‘That’ll be the mud. From the beach we went to earlier today,’ Zara tells her.
‘Can I go there?’ Bella asks.
‘NO,’ Zara replies firmly.
‘Why not? I’m here now,’ Bella argues.
‘It’s closed tomorrow and the next day,’ I tell her.
‘You can close a beach?’ Bella asks.
‘Yes,’ Ben says, backing me up.
Bella still eyes us all with caution, like we’re hiding secrets about her mother.
I like the fight in her, the protective way she’s travelled so far to try to stage some intervention because she thought her mother was holidaying with some hot hunk in Ibiza.
Despite the reckless nature of the gesture, I hope Zara sees the love behind it.
‘Ben, is she OK to stay?’ Zara asks, wearily looking over to him. ‘Naturally, I’ll pay a bit more to cover her food costs, accommodation – whatever you need.’
He smiles. ‘It’s all good. It’s only for a couple of days. Finish up here, Bella, and I can show you to your room.’
‘Can I just bunk in with you, Mum?’ Bella asks.
I like how she says it with big misty eyes to show that she missed her mum; after such a big adventure she just wants her mum close. Either that or she wants to sleep in her bed because she still doesn’t trust Ben.
Zara side-eyes her and looks over to Jess. ‘See? Whatever age they are, they never quite leave you. One kick in that bed and you’re gone, kiddo. Everyone, I am sorry about this abrupt interruption to the retreat.’
‘No apology needed,’ Ben says. ‘It’s good to meet you, Bella.’
‘Yeah,’ she says, her reply filled to the brim with nonchalance. She gets up to follow her mum to her room and they put their arms around each other. As they escape up the stairs, I sit there laughing.
‘What’s so funny?’ Ben asks.
‘I think we’ve finally met someone who doesn’t like you,’ I reply.
‘Yeah, Pedro,’ Jess says mockingly from the door before giggling. ‘I’m getting in the pool guys, going to make the most of this sunshine.’
She disappears and I’m left with Ben, alone. I remember when I was last left alone with him, he seemed to be on the verge of saying the loveliest things to me in the middle of a Spanish marketplace. Do I finish that conversation? Do I say something lovely back? He leans over and tops up my tea.
‘Salsa the cat doesn’t like me,’ he says.
‘This is true,’ I say.
‘It’s a wonder I won you over really.’
We’re locked in a battle of smiles again. The tension so overwhelming that I just want to run into his arms, to tell him that he’s won over every part of me.
But yet again, we are interrupted by a scream from the top of the house. ‘MUM! IS THAT A DILDO?’
‘BELLA! PUT THAT DOWN!’
‘I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU! OH MY GOOOOOOD!’