Ibiza Summer

by Anna-Louise Weatherley

  He sounded quite fond of Jo-Jo and, although I knew I didn’t have any evidence to support it, I feared that she fancied Rex and that Rex fancied her and maybe that’s why she and Steve had split up. Perhaps it was just my wild imagination, but it certainly would account for her giving me daggers this morning in the shop.

  ‘So,’ he said, changing the subject, ‘are you going to come to this party tonight or what?’

  ‘Well, um, you know – I’d love to but I’m not sure what my, er, my friends are up to,’ I stammered, lying on my back and attempting to float so he couldn’t see my face.

  ‘Bring them! They’re welcome to come.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, wishing I really could bring them, but knowing it would just be impossible now. I couldn’t run the risk of them blurting out my real age and making me look a total idiot. ‘I’ll ask them.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, adding, ‘I really want you to be there.’

  I didn’t mean to lie, especially since something about just being near him made me want to tell him the truth about everything I had ever known. I was too frightened he’d look at me in horror if I told him the truth and discard me like a nectarine stone. Each moment had been too perfect to risk it all with the truth, even if I did feel I might suddenly be stuck down by freak lightning for lying.

  As I feared, we eventually got round to the whole age subject. He asked me when my birthday was, and I told him it was in a few weeks’ time, and he asked if it was a special one like my twenty-first or something. I kind of scoffed and said, ‘Oh, no’, as if I was, like, way over the whole twenty-one thing, and he said, ‘Well, you can only be about twenty-two at most anyway.’ I stuck my nose in the air in mock horror and told him that a real gentleman never asks a real lady her real age – he laughed at me a little and we said no more about it, which only supported my theory that he really was a gentleman of the highest order.

  ‘Age is just a number anyway,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders. ‘I don’t judge people on how long they’ve lived, but how they’ve lived.’

  ‘I couldn’t agree more,’ I said, smiling at his profoundness and feeling not just a little relieved that he’d said it.

  We let the sun dry our wet bodies back at the cave and watched the waves lap gently along the shore as we munched on the fruit and cheese. Afterwards, Rex did some spectacular dives off the face of a small cliff and I watched, mesmerised, and clapped my hands excitedly as his perfectly lithe brown body hit the water, making a splash.

  ‘You were right,’ I said. ‘You’re an amazing diver.’

  He smiled a little coyly, which made me want to kiss him.

  ‘Well, when you live out here, you spend so much time in the sea it all becomes second nature.’

  ‘Still, it was pretty impressive,’ I said, raising my eyebrows.

  Afterwards, he sat down next to me closely – really closely – and I could smell the scent of the sea and suntan lotion on his skin. I wondered if life got any better than this, just me and him, our bodies almost touching, listening to the sound of the sea in the distance – although I had to admit that a kiss would’ve been the icing on the cake. Then, just as I was kind of zoning out on my own thoughts, this little butterfly came from nowhere and landed on my knee.

  ‘Don’t move!’ Rex whispered. And I froze as we both marvelled at its small furry body and delicate colourful wings shining in the sunlight as they gently opened and closed.

  ‘Buddhists believe that nothing ever truly dies,’ Rex said, transfixed by the butterfly. ‘And that death simply transports us into another state of being, like the way this little dude was once a caterpillar, and probably something else before it.’ He smiled as we watched the butterfly’s iridescent wings gently flutter in the light breeze.

  I couldn’t help but wonder, if this theory were true, then maybe, just maybe, my dad had turned into something else when he had died, and that perhaps, absurd as it was to think, he had returned to the living world as this little butterfly that was sitting on my knee here, to give me his blessing about Rex, to say that it was OK that I had lied and that he was watching over me to make sure I was safe and happy and not to worry about anything. I knew it was a ridiculous thing to think, but it was comforting, just for a second, to believe it.

  ‘I think I’d like to come back as a butterfly,’ I said after a few moments, ‘because, well, they’re beautiful.’ And then it fluttered off and we watched it disappear until it was just a tiny dot in the distance.

  He smiled at me warmly, our faces closer together now. ‘You’re as beautiful as a butterfly,’ he whispered, which could have been really corny coming from anyone else, but from him it sounded perfect. With his sandy hands he brushed away a few strands of my frizz-ball hair that was in my face, and his lips touched mine. And he tasted sweet. As sweet as the grapes he had brought to eat.

  ow was it?’ Ellie asked, as I burst into the apartment. She was sitting down at the table, bits of cotton wool stuck between her toes as she painted them.

  ‘How was what?’

  ‘Duh, the beach, dummy!’ she said, pulling a face.

  I thought for a second. I wanted to tell her that it had been the most magical moment of my life so far, and that I had wanted to bottle the afternoon like perfume and spray myself all over with it so it would forever linger on my skin, sweet-smelling like coconut, but I thought that would probably sound a bit over the top and she might get suspicious, so I just said, ‘Yeah, it was cool, thanks.’

  ‘Mum phoned,’ she said, without looking up. ‘We had a good chat and she was sorry to have missed you. She sends her love and says she hopes you’re having a fabulous time and not to kiss any strange boys.’

  I almost started to laugh, because she had no idea how close to the truth she was, although I didn’t consider Rex to be either strange nor a boy exactly.

  ‘Did she say she’d ring back?’

  ‘In the next day or so,’ answered Ellie, beginning to blow air on her toes to help dry the polish.

  ‘Cool.’

  I casually walked into our bedroom, then threw myself down on the bed and clutched the pillow to my face to drown out the squeals of excitement that I could no longer contain. Rex had kissed me again when we had said goodbye outside the lilo shop, and it was just as nice as the first kiss, if not better. ‘I don’t want to be the one to have to say goodbye first,’ I had said to him. In fact, I hadn’t wanted to say goodbye at all. ‘Well, I’ll say goodbye first,’ he said. And he stood there. ‘Goodbye first, Izzy.’

  ‘Goodbye second, Rex,’ I said, and he had kissed me again.

  He’d made me promise to ring him because he said he was old-fashioned and hated ‘all that texting malarkey’. With that reminder, I actually managed to buy the phone credit I had originally gone to the shop for earlier.

  Rex had also made me promise to come along to Café Del Sol that night and I’d told him I would really try, because the thought of not seeing him for more than a few hours suddenly made me want to wither up and die like a plant that someone had forgotten to water.

  I wanted to relive the afternoon over and over. But as hard as I tried to recapture the events – the moped, the cheese and grapes and lassi (which incidentally is a bit like a yoghurt drink), and the butterfly, Rex’s daring dives off the face of the small cliff (that I was sure he had done just to try and impress me, which it did, massively), and that kiss, that soft lingering kiss – all that I could think of was how much I had lied through my teeth to Ellie to get there. And the thought of this kept creeping back into my head, threatening to ruin everything.

  I rolled over on to my tummy and reached for my mobile that was still in my little rucksack. I brushed the grains of sand that had gathered there back into the bag, because discarding them somehow seemed wrong. I wanted to save them for ever, a souvenir of my perfect day with him.

  I had a text message: HOWZ IT GOIN IBIZA QUEEN? R U AVIN IT LRG? W X

  It was Willow, of course.

 
LRGE NOT DA WORD. I AM IN LOVE! IZ X

  I pressed ‘send’ and lay back down on the bed. Almost instantly my phone beeped.

  NO WAY! WHO IS HE? W X

  I tapped back furiously. A DJ. OWN MOPED. 100% GORGE. IZ X

  If that didn’t get her to call me, nothing would, and sure enough only a minute or so passed before my phone lit up and I heard that familiar ring tone.

  ‘Can’t talk for long, got zero credit and off to the piccies with Chantal now . . .’

  ‘Oh!’ I said. ‘Who’s Chantal?’

  ‘Never mind that! Who is this DJ bloke with his own moped? You little minx!’

  ‘Oh Wils,’ I wailed, ‘I don’t know where to begin . . .’

  ‘Er, try at the beginning,’ she said.

  And so I did my best to tell her the story of how Rex and I had met, and that he was this twenty-six-year-old DJ with his own moped and house in Es Cana, and that he’d taken me to the beach and fed me grapes, and that he wanted to see me again, but that I hadn’t told him how old I really was. Willow had oh-so-casually said, ‘Well, just don’t tell him, then.’ After all, she had pointed out, I was only in Ibiza for three weeks, and in all likelihood I would never see him again, and I should just enjoy having a holiday romance and stop being a stress-head, because it wasn’t as if I was going to marry the guy, was it?

  ‘Listen, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him,’ she said, resolutely. ‘Besides, it’s about time you had some fun and romance in your life.’

  I wished I could be more like Willow. I always managed to over-complicate everything with all my ‘what ifs’ and major stress-outs about everything.

  But she was right. Where could it all go? I was here for a three-week holiday and he was here for ever – Ibiza was his home – and eventually I’d have to say goodbye, even though the thought of it already paralysed me with dread.

  ‘You know what, you’re right,’ I said, suddenly full of determination. ‘Maybe I should just go for it and enjoy the moment. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?’

  ‘Atta girl!’ Willow said, sounding pleased that I’d taken her advice. ‘Anyway, listen babes, got to run, Chantal’s waiting for me and I can’t be late. I have to hear more about DJ boy though – sorry – man,’ she said, giggling. ‘Call me when you can, Stan,’ she said, doing that rhyming thing she sometimes does at the end of sentences. ‘And Iz, try not to blow it all by letting that mahoosive conscience of yours get the better of you. Just enjoy yourself and have a giggle. It’s only three weeks, and just think how you can make Toby Parker suffer by blabbing about this faaabulous superstar DJ with a moped you snogged while you were in Ibiza . . .’

  ‘OK, I’ll let you know how it all goes,’ I promised.

  ‘Defo. And get a tan for me pleeeeease!’ she giggled.

  ‘Love you, Wils,’ I said.

  ‘You too, Barney Magoo,’ she said, adding, ‘Twenty-six! Can you believe it? You lucky cow!’ before she hung up.

  I momentarily thought about our conversation and this Chantal girl and how it had sounded a bit like Wils had wanted to get off the phone to meet her. I wondered if I was just being paranoid, because I’d only been gone a few days and surely Wils wouldn’t have suddenly found a new best friend in that time, would she? I didn’t have too long to dwell on it though because suddenly Ellie burst in the room.

  ‘Don’t bother knocking,’ I said sarcastically. ‘I could’ve been naked.’

  ‘I won’t and you aren’t,’ she shot back. ‘Listen you’ve got less than an hour to get ready and then we’re going to La Tropicana for dinner, so get a move on, lazy arse.’

  I saw the others through the door; they were all looking at a magazine and pointing to something and laughing.

  ‘Actually, Els, I feel a bit sick,’ I said, clutching my stomach and feigning illness. ‘I think it must be something I ate.’ I had to try and convince her to go out with her friends without me. It was my only hope of getting to meet him. I knew they were planning to go to Galaxy, this ‘superclub’ on the other side of the island, and this was perfect. It was too far away to worry about her popping back to check if I was OK.

  I made some soft groaning sounds. ‘I might stay here tonight if that’s cool. Look, you go. It would be mental to miss out on my account. I know you promised Mum you’d take care of me and everything, but I really don’t mind being here on my own,’ I said, adding another sharp ‘ohhh’ sound for authenticity. ‘I’ve got my CDs and magazines, and Edie and her parents are just a few apartments down the block so I could always go there in an emergency,’ I said, quickly adding, ‘not that there’ll be one.’ Ellie opened her mouth to speak, but I continued. ‘I promise not to open the door to anyone and I’ll keep my mobile on. Really, it’ll all be fine. You just go and have a great time. I’ll be better by tomorrow I’m sure.’ I pulled my knees up to my chest and put my arms around my legs. Ellie gave me a look that fell somewhere between concern and gratitude, although I could see she was at pains to hide the latter. She sat down on the bed next to me. Her clear skin was glowing and her pink dress set off the tan she’d miraculously somehow already managed to acquire in, like, two days, and in that second I felt a wave of love for her. I knew in my heart that she only wanted what was best for me. I wanted to reach out to her and tell her I was so happy yet frightened because I had met someone that had made me feel different about myself, and I was scared and excited, and could she help me.

  ‘You really feel that bad?’ Ellie said, placing her hand on my brow to check for a temperature.

  ‘Yes,’ I croaked, pathetically. ‘I mean, I’m sure I’ll be OK if I get some rest tonight though.’

  Ellie continued to stare at my face, surveying it carefully like she was checking for any notable changes.

  ‘Are you sure you’re happy with this?’ she said after what seemed like minutes, but was probably just seconds. ‘I mean, me going out with the others and leaving you here?’

  ‘Honestly Els,’ I said, ‘don’t feel bad, just go and have a good time. I’ll be perfectly OK. Remember I’m sixteen, not six.’

  Ellie was quiet for a few seconds and then said, ‘If you get worse, you must promise to call me and I’ll come back straight away.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘Promise,’ Ellie demanded.

  ‘I promise, straight away,’ I said.

  ‘Right then,’ she said sharply, signifying the end of the conversation. ‘I’d better get going.’

  Ellie stood up and smoothed down her dress.

  I looked at her, a tall svelte vision in pink; her glossy caramel-highlighted hair cascading past her shoulders and hanging in perfect strands, her killer cleavage that subconsciously drew your eye to it, and her smooth tanned legs that just seemed to go on for ever.

  ‘You look so pretty,’ I said, my voice dry and cracking, and I really did sound sick this time, genuinely so.

  ‘Thanks Iz,’ she said, smiling softly at me now, and I felt a little bit better.

  ‘Oh, and Els,’ I said, just as she was closing the door behind her. ‘What does “self-deprecating” mean?’

  he stretch of sand in front of Café Del Sol was already buzzing with people. I was amazed I’d managed to find my way there as Rex had only explained the directions to me briefly when we’d said our goodbyes earlier and I’d been too busy thinking about our kiss to properly concentrate on what he’d been saying. As it was, though, I found my way without even having to stop and ask anyone, which made me think that Rex and I had this subconscious telepathic thing going on between us that they say people in love can sometimes have. At least that’s what I wanted to believe.

  Girls and guys were scattered around the rocks that surrounded the small area of beach in front of Café Del Sol enjoying the last moments of the day’s fading sunshine. The atmosphere was relaxed, yet full of promise of what the rest of the night had in store. Soft, ambient music filled the warm air as everyone got into the pre-clubbing party spirit. I wondered i
f I might spot some people from Alfredo’s party and if so, would they tell Ellie that they’d bumped into me? This lying business is extremely stressful, I thought to myself, so many things to think about and tracks to cover. No wonder I was on edge.

  Café Del Sol had a huge patio which led right out on to the beach and I could see the bar staff inside busily fixing drinks, their heads bobbing up and down to the gentle sound of the beats. I stood a little way back from the scene and composed myself.

  He’d said to meet him there at eight when I had called him earlier, and I was bang on time again because Mum had always said that being prompt would stand me in good stead in life – and I hoped that this included my love life too. He’d sounded happy on the phone, dead chatty and friendly, which was so different to the one-word grunts and awkward silences that I was used to with the lads I’d known back home. He had talked about our day together and how he’d stopped off to buy some fresh olives from this farmer on his way home. I’d said they sounded delicious, the olives, even though I didn’t much like them – Willow and I were forever picking them off our pizzas in disgust – but Rex had this way of making everything sound so fantastic that I found myself saying I’d like to try them.

  I looked around me at the throngs of clubbers and tried to spot Rex in amongst them. And then this guy suddenly came up behind me from nowhere.

  ‘Fancy coming to a club later, gorgeous?’ he asked, handing me a flyer that had Love in Paradise written on it. ‘You should come along; we could do with a higher babe count.’ I smiled politely, which must’ve made him think I was interested in talking to him, because he came towards me and put his arm around my waist and started blathering on about this party. It was such a relief to see Rex walking towards us, even though I was a bit worried about what he might think, me standing there with some other lad’s arm round my waist.

  ‘Hey, Davey, get your hands off my woman!’ Rex said, although I could tell he wasn’t angry because he was smiling.