Ibiza Summer (12 page)

I could feel my eyes welling up with tears as I was speaking and I tried not to blink so as to stop them from falling down my face.

‘They gave my mum the presents you know. My birthday presents . . .’ I said, my voice cracking. ‘They picked them all up off the street and gave them to her all smashed and
broken and torn – except for this one thing; this perfect little pink jewellery box with a ballerina inside that turned round and round and played a twinkly tune from the
Nutcracker
Suite.
It was completely untouched, not a scratch on it – and even though I didn’t celebrate my birthday that year, because, well, there was nothing to celebrate, my mum gave me the
little box with the ballerina inside. I just sat there for hours and hours playing it over and over again until I thought it might break. Sometimes now I wake up in the night and hear that tune. I
wonder if Dad knows I’m thinking of him and that I love him. Then I wonder if I really do love him or if I just love the memory of him because how can you love someone that doesn’t
exist any more? And then I feel guilty and . . . and . . .’

But it was no good. Warm wet tears began rolling down the sides of my face and trickling into my ears as I lay there and I had this dull ache in my chest that stopped me from breathing properly.
Wretched sobs escaped from my mouth and although I was now crying uncontrollably, it felt strangely therapeutic to talk about my dad and to finally let it all out.

Rex had listened, just as I thought he would. He didn’t say anything. He just held me tightly and wiped away my tears as they made tracks down the sides of my face.

‘You know just because someone isn’t there any more, doesn’t mean that we ever stop loving them,’ he said gently, as he pulled me closer into his arms then stroked my
face tenderly. And he felt warm, warm and strong and protective, and it helped. It helped so much.

t was Friday, six days since our arrival in Ibiza and the longest period of time I had ever gone without speaking to
my mum. So when she called, I felt a strange kind of relief, like things would be OK and normal again, even though I felt sure that as soon as I opened my mouth she would hear that something in me
had changed. My mum has this sixth sense of knowing when something is up with me, so I was naturally a bit wary when I took the mobile phone from my sister. Ellie had been chatting to Mum for over
fifteen minutes – in private, I had (somewhat worryingly) noticed. I slipped out on to the balcony and slid the door shut behind me. If Ellie could have a private chat with our mum then so
could I.

‘Hello, rabbit. Ellie tells me you’re having a ball,’ Mum said, sounding excited and happy for us. I could hear our cat, Montague, purring in the background.

‘Yeah, it’s great here, Mum,’ I replied, trying my best to sound normal, even though I felt anything but. ‘The island is so beautiful and the beaches are great and
everything . . .’

‘I’m so glad you’re having a good time, although I’ve really missed my girls; the house has felt so empty without you.’ She sounded a bit sad and I immediately felt
bad, because the last time I recall my mum saying something similar was when Dad had died.

‘Bet you’re glad of the peace,’ I said, trying not to think about it.

‘Nonsense, you know I like a full house,’ Mum said, and I was sure she was thinking the same thing as I had been.

‘Montague, get down . . . Do you want me to record
That Certain Something
for you on Saturday, chickie?’ she asked, changing the subject. Missing my favourite reality TV show
was the least of my worries and, besides, I wasn’t even sure I cared about it much any more, or anything on telly for that matter. The only thing I could think about right now was Rex, and
when I would next get to see him, and whether or not I should come clean and confess the truth to him about my age.

‘Nah, it’s OK, Mum. I reckon I’ll survive,’ I said.

‘Really? But it’s the final,’ Mum said, sounding a little concerned, and I wondered if I should’ve just said yes so as not to arouse any suspicion.

‘I saw Willow in town yesterday,’ she said, casually changing the subject. ‘She was with a girl friend but I didn’t go over and say hello because they looked like they
were deep in conversation and I didn’t think they’d want an oldie like me interrupting them.’

‘Oh,’ I said, instantly worried that the ‘girl friend’ she was referring to was this Chantal that Wils had been spending loads of time with, doing all the stuff we
usually did together, like shopping and watching fit lads.

‘Bet you’re missing each other madly, seeing as though you two are usually glued together at the hip.’ Mum laughed.

‘Yeah, I really do miss her,’ I said, although I wondered if Willow really was missing me as much as I was missing her, now that she had this new friend.

‘I miss you too though, Mum,’ I found myself saying.

‘Oh, rabbit, I miss you as well,’ Mum said, getting a bit sentimental. ‘And so does Montague, don’t you, Monts?’ He purred loudly down the phone.

‘Are you sure you’re all right, Iz? You sound – well, are you sure everything’s OK? Are you and Ellie getting on all right?’

‘Yeah, Mum, everything’s fine,’ I said, and I really hoped it would be. I was just so confused about everything: about Willow and what was happening to our friendship –
if indeed anything was happening at all – and about me and Ellie, and the fact that I had been deceiving her in a big way. And then of course there was Rex, who had come into my life from
nowhere and turned everything inside out and upside down and back to front. Even though I had fallen in love, my world before Rex, and the relationships I had within that world, seemed as though
they were falling apart at the seams.

‘Good-o,’ Mum said. ‘Greg will be picking you up from the airport. I can’t make it because I’m off to the hospital with Auntie Maureen that day.’

‘Hospital? Is Auntie Maureen sick or something?’ I asked, concerned.

‘Well, just between you and me, pussy-cat, she’s going through some
changes
at the moment and has turned into a worse version of Fang.’ Mum laughed loudly.

Fang was this pet rabbit we once had when I was a kid that would bite you if you ever tried to touch him – hence the name.

‘I hope you don’t mind, poppet. I’ll be back before you get home anyway.’

‘That’s cool, Mum,’ I said, wishing I could see her, because suddenly I wanted her to hold me and comfort me, like she had always done since I was small.

‘Have you met any boys then?’ she asked, brightly. ‘Go on, you can tell your old mum!’

‘Mum!’ I laughed, embarrassed because I didn’t really speak to her about boys, mainly because when she had asked me in the past, I didn’t have much to tell her. But now I
did and I really wanted her advice because she was pretty level-headed. But I knew that even she’d be shocked by my confession about Rex, so I kept my mouth shut.

‘No rich millionaires with their own yacht desperate for your hand in marriage then?’ she joked.

‘No, Mum,’ I said, in mock annoyance.

‘Pity,’ she laughed. ‘I was hoping to marry you off to some rich Spaniard so I could get to holiday in Marbella every year, gratis!’

‘Fat chance,’ I sniffed.

‘Ah well, bunny, plenty of time for all that,’ she said. ‘Gotta dash, Monts is pulling holes in my new bouclé skirt, and I’ve got to get to QuickShop for cat food
and eggs before it shuts. Oh, the glamorous life I lead!’ she joked.

‘Love you, Mum,’ I said quietly, because I realised I didn’t tell her enough.

‘Love you too, rabbit,’ she said, softly.

And when she hung up I started to cry. But I was forced to dry my eyes quickly because, soon after, Louisa began banging on the patio window at me and beckoning me inside.

‘It’s going to be totally gangsta!’ Louisa said, pulling a vast array of brightly-coloured bikinis and sarongs from her case and holding them up for inspection. ‘Ellie
and Narinda are getting ready in their rooms and Charlie’s in the shower, so I need you to help me decide on some suitable beach attire,’ she commanded.

I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand and hoped she wouldn’t notice I’d been crying. I smiled at her nervously. She was more caustic and abrupt than Narinda and Charlotte and was
the only one out of Ellie’s gang who I felt quite jittery around.

‘So what exactly
is
this champagne-diving party all about then?’ I asked adding, ‘I gather it probably involves champagne and, er, diving . . .’

‘Not bad, Sherlock,’ Louisa said, derisively. ‘It’s like this,’ she continued, ‘loads of us get on this big boat and bottles of champagne are thrown overboard
and everyone has to dive in the sea and retrieve them, ideally before they sink to the bottom. Then after the diving and the food and the free drinks, the whole thing turns into one big party and
everyone just goes mental until they drop and the sun comes up again!’ She squealed excitedly and began doing this funny little booty-shaking-type dance around the room. ‘It’s a
great way to start the week!’

Don’t get me wrong, I was excited about the day’s forthcoming events too, even though I knew I should be showing it more. It wasn’t just the phonecall with Mum; I knew this was
the opportunity of a lifetime, but I would have traded it all in for five minutes with Rex. Last night’s conversation had created an unspoken bond between us that I knew could never be
broken. I felt even closer to him as a result of opening up to him about Dad. For me to even
want
to do this made me realise how special he was. He had been so kind, so gentle and
understanding. I had told him he was a good listener, and he had said that who or whatever had made us had given us
two
ears and
one
tongue, and that people didn’t listen to one
another enough. And I had thought that it was just so incredible that he always seemed to say the right thing.

By agreeing to accompany Ellie and Co. to today’s events I had forfeited spending an evening with him. Not through choice, I add, but because I simply couldn’t find a way to get out
of it. Ellie had bought five tickets to the boat party and was particularly keen to see my expression when she had handed them out early this morning.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve already made plans with that Edie girl, for crying out loud,’ Ellie had said to me, almost crossly, before I’d even had the chance to speak.
‘These tickets are like gold dust!’

Rex had sounded slightly dejected when I’d said I wouldn’t be able to meet him that night. ‘My friends have made other plans,’ I mumbled weakly to him on the phone.
‘I can’t really get out of it now and —’

‘It’s cool, Iz,’ he’d interrupted, attempting to sound chirpy. ‘I think I’m DJing at Adam’s Temple this evening, just thought you might like to be my
guest. You can bring your friends, they’re welcome to come too.’

‘You know I’d really love to and everything but I —’

‘Hey, it’s no problem, really,’ he said softly, his voice suddenly sounding all husky and sexy, ‘so long as you’re not going off me or anything.’ He was only
half joking I could tell.

‘No, really, it’s not that, God, it’s not that at all – I . . . I just . . . well, my friend has already bought the tickets.’ This was a nightmare. I wished I could
suddenly turn to liquid and pour myself down the receiver to where he was, and then turn back into myself again and hold him and kiss him and tell him I loved him. Because I did. Even if I knew it
might be too soon to say it and wasn’t sure what his reaction would be. The fact was I would’ve foregone a thousand boat parties, even ones with
real
celebs. I would have
forsaken it all just for five minutes in his arms. It had choked me to have to turn him down. And it had worried me too. What if he really
did
think I had gone off him? Surely not? Not since
we’d got so close and last night and everything. I closed my eyes, as if somehow it would help me to stop worrying. Falling in love was so amazing, I thought. It had lifted me right up out of
myself and given me a lightness of being I had never felt before. But I figured it was because I’d fallen in love that all these irrational insecurities kept creeping in. I was scared and I
sensed that maybe even Rex was scared too. Giving your heart to someone means trusting them not to break it.