Chapter 14
BEN
‘Miguel. When you said gift bags, I thought you were going to give them some toiletries, chocolates, a candle,’ I tell him as we stand by the swimming pool.
‘Candles? You don’t want them to light candles in the villa, it’s a fire danger,’ he says, looking horrified.
‘And sex toys were the next best bet, were they?’ I ask cheekily.
I don’t know what has happened in the last hour.
One moment I was taking water to Chloe in her room, the next she asked me for a hug and there was something incredibly sweet about that (even though, let’s be honest, she was a bit greasy from the olive oil) – that she just wanted to be close to someone.
And I’ll admit that after years of being knee-deep in the restaurant, it was also a strange release to be physically close to someone, to feel connection.
But then quite a large dildo got in the way; it was honestly colossal.
‘I told you I had a friend with a shop in town,’ Miguel tells me.
‘“Shop” is quite a vague term. Is it a sex shop?’ I whisper, even though we are the only people out here.
‘You are so rude. It is a nice shop. She also sells clothes.’
‘I will assume these clothes have tassels and are crotchless,’ I say.
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Miguel replies, winking at me.
I close my eyes momentarily to remove that image from my head. ‘Plus, they were sizeable items you put in there. You had no idea how the women would react,’ I tell him. ‘They could have run away in absolute disgust.’
‘But they didn’t. I heard no one object. I know I am a homosexual but how often are women given gifts like that? Not from their husbands, that is for sure. There are all sorts of treats in there, some lubricante, the plug for the butt, this buzzer thing, the clamp for the pezones.’
‘Pezones?’ I ask.
Miguel squeezes his nipples to show me what they are. ‘They have their own rooms, they can explore and experiment. No shame, all the fun.’
I look up at the rooms. We may never see them again then. I saw the size of that dildo and it was built like a healthy cucumber. I’m now worried that I don’t have enough batteries in the house.
‘Zara went up and had a bath with her gift bag. She came to her balcony to wave to me, she looked so happy,’ Miguel informs me.
‘They could have fun with a candle,’ I say.
‘No, that hurts. I know,’ he says.
I shake my head at Miguel as he looks up at the villa balconies.
‘Listen,’ he says.
‘God, can you hear them?’ I say, leaning an ear upwards.
‘No. Silencio. They are occupied, restful, they will come down and they will be glowing. I also have a gift bag for you,’ he tells me, handing me one.
‘You bought me a dildo?’ I ask anxiously.
‘No. I bought you lubricante. You use the plug for the butt?’ he asks me candidly.
‘You bought one for me?’ I say, opening the bag. There’s also something that looks like a bottle opener with a hole. I may have to search for this on Google Images. I take it out and look at it curiously.
‘You wear: it is also waterproof. You can wear in the shower. My gift to you. My boy also needs to have fun and relax,’ he says, bowing his head.
I chuckle. ‘That’s very thoughtful of you.’
‘So how do you know I give dildos to the girls? Why did you tell me off? Did someone complain? Was it the tense girl?’ Miguel asks.
‘Her name is Chloe.’
‘Big knots, all in her shoulders. She really needed the gift bag,’ he jokes.
I narrow my eyes at him and he gives me a curious look in return. ‘Unless she does not need the gift bag?’
I sit down in front of him. ‘We may have hugged earlier.’
Miguel lets out a supportive whoop and slaps me on the back.
‘Oh God, shush… she might hear you. It was only a hug and it wasn’t very professional of me. I’m running this retreat.’
‘Benny boy, this is not a normal hotel. It is a retreat. An escape. They are drinking a lot of wine, you cook, what is a little kissy-kissy here and there? It’s like when your Uncle Lorenzo owned this place.’
‘Miguel, when Lorenzo owned this place, it sounds like it was a twenty-four-hour orgy. This is a classy establishment,’ I say. I’m trying very hard to veer away from the nineties version of the Casa de Clap.
‘She is a pretty girl. Architect. Nice legs.’
‘I haven’t been looking at her legs,’ I say, hoping he can’t read my face.
But I can’t deny that feeling of warmth and connection with another person has unearthed something inside me.
My sisters are big huggers and occasionally I receive a hug from a customer who enjoyed my burrata but that was a different type of hug.
I loved the silent, still, drawn-out nature of my hug with Chloe; my want and need to have her close, to protect her.
It makes me strangely sad to have such a visceral reaction to a hug, to miss that contact with another person.
‘Tell me, Benji boy. In London, do you have a girlfriend?’ Miguel asks me.
‘No,’ I say, exhaling slowly. I did date a florist called Shanae a few months back who analysed the situation really well: I’m in a relationship. But with my restaurant.
‘It’s a shame with a face so nice,’ he says, slapping my cheeks. ‘You know your Uncle Lorenzo always liked hearing stories of you. He joined the Facebook to catch up with you all, to see the babies and photos of you all together. It brought him much joy,’ Miguel tells me.
I perch on a nearby table to listen to him.
‘One thing Lorenzo always used to say is, why is Ben on his own? Always on his own,’ Miguel continued.
I smile. ‘That would be my sisters’ fault – they usually scare away any prospective girlfriends. It’s why I had to pretend I was dating the goat.’
Miguel laughs but shakes his head, knowing that’s not true.
But maybe it’s because he knows that, like some boring adult, I’ve invested a lot of time and energy into work, into the restaurant, into my financial responsibilities.
I think about my life back home where I don’t even have time for friends.
I’ve become so used to my solitude that now I accept it as a way of life.
‘Don’t get me wrong, Lorenzo was a happy person,’ Miguel says. ‘His happiness and glow were like the sun. He was kind, he partied a lot and he had a good, good life, but I think he had sadness in his last year. Regrets. He was always jealous of his sister because she had all the family and he had—’
‘He had you… and Marcus.’
‘But you know what I mean. He ended up alone and he doesn’t want that for you.’
It gives me a pang of sorrow to think of Uncle Lorenzo like that, to know that he saw that same solitude in me.
We didn’t see him very often, and I always imagined him as a perennial party animal, happy with his lifestyle and permanently surrounded by friends.
I think of his letter, his legacy and all that he wished for my sisters and me.
I lean over and give Miguel a huge hug. ‘Thank you for being here, for your presence, your generosity. I love you, Miguel.’
He returns the hug firmly, holding it for a moment.
‘Love you too, beautiful boy. Life doesn’t have to be so serious, you know?
You are always thinking, always giving. Have time for Benji too.
I know this retreat is for the ladies, but you know, let go, enjoy, enjoy.
Have Benji time! Try the plug for the butt. I think you like!’ Miguel grins.
‘I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt… I…’
We both turn to see Chloe standing by the doorway to the villa.
She’s wearing the same black shift dress she wore for dinner yesterday.
Her eyes dart between us. Her mousey hair hangs in loose curls around her face and she wears sandals on her feet, giving the impression of effortless chic. I smile instantly to see her.
‘You’re not interrupting,’ I say, trying to catch her eye.
‘Miguel told us to be ready for seven and I’m here. I think the others are just coming too. Do I need a bag? Am I good in sandals?’ she asks.
‘You are a vision, a goddess!’ Miguel replies and she does an awkward little curtsey.
‘Seven?’ I ask Miguel, switching back to look at him.
‘Oh, yes… we are going out, remember. You are coming out too, yes?’ he says.
‘Do I have to?’ I say.
‘Yes, you must!’ he orders, not before gently slapping my bum. I am secure enough in my sexuality that I don’t care, but I have been slapped a lot by him recently.
‘Then I guess I’m coming out…’ I look over to where Chloe was standing to see if this is an exciting prospect for her, but she seems to have disappeared. I turn back to Miguel, confused. ‘And where exactly are we going?’
‘To heaven,’ he says dramatically.
‘Is it on Google Maps?’ I ask.
He laughs. ‘Hey, the Salsa is here!’
‘Is there going to be salsa at this party?’ I ask. I could dance salsa, I think. I could also eat salsa.
‘No, look…’ Miguel points to the kitchen where that damned cat is sitting at the door like she owns the place. ‘I haven’t seen her in ages. I thought she went to live in the wild with the goats.’
‘Did Chloe tell you the name she’s given her then?’ I say.
He looks at me strangely. ‘What? No, your Uncle Lorenzo called her that. She is a saucy cat, very flirty.’
‘But…’ I look back at the space where Chloe was standing and then back at that cat. Really? The cat smirks at me. I don’t like you. And Salsa remains a really terrible name for a cat.