Ellie put her hands up to her head in dismay. ‘You know, I never thought something like this would happen. My little sister threatening to run off with a local DJ, who probably does this kind of thing all the time, I should add. I don’t suppose you know that in Spain anyone under the age of eighteen is classed as a minor – what do you think he would say if he knew you were a minor?’ and she overstated the word ‘minor’ presumably to cause me pain and shame.
‘I’m – I’m speechless,’ she said. But this was clearly just a figure of speech because she went on . . .
‘Think of what you’re actually saying, Izzy. I mean, it’s just a holiday romance – and one that should never have happened in the first place. It’s an infatuation, a fling. You can’t make life-changing decisions like that after less than a month of knowing someone. You’re only sixteen and he doesn’t even know your real age!’ Ellie’s voice was officious and off-hand.
I looked at her, incredulous. How could she think this was all about some stupid crush? She was wrong. Falling in love with Rex had changed my life and the way I thought about everything. She might not want to believe it, but I knew it was the truth.
‘I thought this holiday would give you and me a chance to be close again, like we once were,’ Ellie continued, her voice tinged with regret. ‘But now, now you’re even more of a stranger to me than before . . .’
Her words stung bitterly. I, too, had hoped that this holiday would give us the chance to talk about stuff as well – not just about Dad, although that would’ve helped, but just everyday stuff, like friends do, like how we used to. Now, through my lies and deceit, it was worse than ever and I had put even more distance between us.
‘I only ever wanted us to be friends, for you to like me and respect me as an adult and not just treat me like your kid sister who gets in the way all the time.’ I was wailing now, and Ellie sighed deeply and came towards me and put her arm around me.
‘OK. It’s OK,’ she said resignedly, and I could tell that she was still angry with me but not quite as intensely as before. ‘Oh Izzy,’ she said, ‘You know you can tell me anything. I’m your friend too.’
But it didn’t feel like it. There was a gulf the size of an ocean between us – and it was my fault.
‘You know you’ll have to tell him the truth soon,’ she said, handing me a tissue and looking at me pitifully. ‘He needs to know.’
And I nodded, because in spite of everything else I knew she was right.
Although Ellie’s initial anger at my deception had waned slightly, there was enough of it lingering to make her say that if I didn’t call Rex and tell him the truth that afternoon, then she would march down to Café Del Sol tonight and tell him herself. It would be hideous having to tell him face to face, but I figured it would be fifty gazillion times worse if she told him. So I called him and he agreed to meet me, and he’d sounded so concerned on the phone that I wondered if I would ever like myself again for putting him, and everyone, through so much worry.
The sun was shining as brightly as ever as I stood outside the lilo shop. I decided that I would ask him to take me to our beach and that we’d walk down to our little alcove, the one where he’d fed me cheese and grapes and nectarines, where we’d shared our first kiss. I would sit him down and take his hand and tell him the truth, right from the start, just as I had done with my sister. I would tell him that I was sorry I had lied to him, but that I thought he would understand and that our love was strong enough to overcome anything.
It was killing me, standing there with the knowledge of what I had to do lingering over me like a great black cloud. I just wanted to get it over with, to blurt it all out and purge myself of it once and for all. I was beginning to get worried. Where was he?
And then I caught sight of his little red moped in the distance and I felt my heart skip a beat, because I knew that I was only minutes away from him holding me tightly in his arms.
I put my hand up to my face to shield my eyes from the sun and watched as he came closer and closer, and I was filled with nerves but still excited at the thought of seeing him again, just like I had been every time we’d met.
He began to wave to signify the fact that he could see me, and I had both my arms in the air and was waving them manically too.
At first I thought I was hallucinating when I saw the van turn the corner and plough into him, the heat finally having got to me. And I didn’t really think it was him lying there, bruised and bloodied in the road, just as I had imagined my dad must’ve looked that time. I was running towards him, even though it didn’t feel as though I had any legs and that I was floating like a ghost. I don’t remember holding his floppy body in my arms and begging him to breathe and not to die. Please God, don’t let him die. Not Rex. Not like this. I am begging you, just this one thing and I will never ask for anything ever again. And I don’t remember the ambulance arriving and the paramedics trying to resuscitate him in the road, or the van driver shouting and screaming stuff in Spanish, or the woman who put her arm round me and kept talking to me, even though I couldn’t understand what she was saying.
Oddly, I do recall getting into the ambulance as it sped off at high speed, and the kind lady paramedic wiping the blood from Rex’s nose as I willed him to open those beautiful eyes, those piercing green eyes that had filled me with hope these past couple of weeks. His skin felt warm, which I knew was a good thing. He was damaged, badly damaged, but he was alive. And I thought there must be a God after all.
llie finally made it to the hospital a few hours later. As I saw her, I ran straight into her arms and she hugged me tightly as I broke down and sobbed, my whole body shaking.
‘When I heard there’d been an accident, I thought – oh God, I thought it was you! I was so terrified that you’d been hurt, killed, and that it was all because I’d made you go down there and talk to him. My little sister would be dead because of me!’ Ellie was ranting and gripping me with such force I could barely catch my breath. ‘I love you, Iz, and if anything had happened to you – anything – I could never forgive myself.’ She was half crying, half laughing, with joy and was kissing me.
‘I’m sorry,’ was all I managed to say between sobs. ‘I’m just so, so sorry.’
The doctors told us that Rex was unconscious, and had shattered his leg and pelvis, and had cracked some ribs. They would need to operate on him. I asked if he would lose his leg and the youngish-looking doctor looked at me kindly and hesitated a bit before saying he didn’t know at this stage. I just burst into tears at that because I suddenly had this vision of Rex being confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life, unable to dive and fish and run along the beach or do any of the things that he loved doing so much and that we all just take for granted.
Once she’d composed herself, Ellie took charge, because that’s what Ellie always does in a crisis. She asked why he hadn’t come round yet. They said that it was probably due to the shock of the impact, but the fact he’d been wearing his crash helmet had saved his life, and that he was young and strong, and although he wouldn’t be playing football anytime soon, he would regain consciousness – and with good rest – he would probably recover in time. Probably. In time.
If only I had never lied about my age in the first place then none of this would have happened. Why did good people have to get hurt or die? Was I some kind of jinx?
All this must have brought back hideous memories for Ellie too. Memories of the day our beautiful dad was so cruelly snatched from us in a scarily similar way. I was so grateful Ellie was there, because I knew I couldn’t cope on my own. It dawned on me how much she had been a rock in my life – all my life. She had never really failed me. In my selfish way I had resented her for moving on with her life, for trying to come to terms with the past, for having a life that didn’t always include me. Really, all she had done was grow up and try to find her own way in this crazy world, just as I was trying to now. I had just been the needy, demanding younger sister, putting pressure on
her and emotionally blackmailing her into including me in her life when she had never really excluded me in the first place, and had tried her best this holiday to make me feel part of everything.
I looked at her perfectly familiar face that sometimes, just in a certain turn of the head, reminded me of our dad. Her presence made me realise that for as long as we were both alive we would always have each other and I would never be alone.
A while later, Steve turned up at the hospital. He had heard from the locals that Rex had been involved in an accident, and raced to the hospital as soon as he could. He looked so pale and worried, and I felt for him so much. He smiled a bit when he saw me and we hugged.
‘He’s going to be OK,’ I said weakly, trying to convince myself as much as him.
‘I’ve called his parents,’ Steve said. ‘They’re on their way.’
I nodded and Ellie gave me a reassuring little squeeze.
We weren’t allowed to see Rex before he was taken down to the operating theatre, so there was nothing to do other than wait. Wait and hope. So that’s what we did.
Steve had gone to get coffee for us all and call Jo-Jo to let her know what had happened, and left me and Ellie sitting on the uncomfortable plastic chairs.
‘Don’t blame yourself, Iz,’ my sister said, as if reading my thoughts. ‘You couldn’t possibly have known that this would happen.’
‘What if he loses his leg, Ellie?’ I asked, the words choking me. ‘What if something goes wrong on the operating table and he dies? It will be my fault. I should never have hidden the truth from him. I love him,’ I whispered. ‘I really love him, Ellie.’
‘I know you do. I know . . .’ she said as she stroked my arm, and for the first time I could see that Ellie really did know that this wasn’t just some stupid crush.
‘All this has reminded me of our dad and that terrible day,’ I said, crying even harder now. ‘Do you remember, Ellie? Do you think about it too?’ I asked, pleading with her.
She was silent for a moment.
‘I think about it all the time,’ she eventually said, quietly.
‘You do?’
‘Yes.’ Her voice was almost a whisper as she drew breath and began to talk about it. ‘I was at ballet class when the police came. I felt so guilty that I wasn’t there when they told you. Like I’d let everyone down by not being around to support you,’ she said, her pretty face twisting with the pain of the memory. ‘After that day, I felt distant from people. Like I was living in a dream – well, more like a nightmare, really. I was terrified of getting too close to anyone: friends, boyfriends – even you and Mum in a way, in case you too were taken away from me.’
I took Ellie’s hand but was careful not to say anything. I wanted to let her speak, to finally open up to me, but at the same time I wanted to comfort her, just as she had comforted me. ‘It was as if I’d built a wall around my heart, scared to let anyone in. Then Tom came along and – well,’ she lowered her eyes and smiled wistfully, ‘he broke down those barriers I’d put up, one by one. And gradually I’d stopped being so scared. He helped me come to terms with it all. So you know, Iz, if you do love this guy, it’s a good thing. It means that you can love. That you’ve been brave enough to let someone into your heart.’ She was crying now and I cried too. I related to her words so much. All along we had felt the same. I just hadn’t been able to see it.
She had been hiding her true feelings from me to protect me, putting on a brave front. Perhaps we were not so different after all? Although I didn’t want her to be hurting this way, it was a relief to know that she too thought about Dad late at night when it was dark and she couldn’t sleep, and that her heart ached when she remembered him, just as mine did, and suddenly I’d never felt closer to her.
he following day, I met Rex’s parents for the first time. They had rushed to the hospital, tired and emotional, straight from the airport and were now in front of Ellie and me in the family waiting area. It was a desolate space with its crude, bare walls and rows of uncomfortable plastic chairs. A coffee vending machine sat sinisterly in the corner, giving out a low, almost inaudible hum, mocking us.
‘He phoned me last week,’ Rex’s mum said, ‘and told me he had met someone. I knew you must be special because he never tells me about any girlfriends – and he was right, you are beautiful.’ She smiled.
I held her hand. It was warming that Rex had mentioned me to her. Usually, I would have been chuffed. But I couldn’t allow myself to be, not in the circumstances.
Although the doctors had told us that Rex’s operation the previous day had gone well, he would need another to give him the best chance of a full recovery.
‘It’s quite a tricky procedure,’ the doctor had told his parents. ‘His bone has been shattered into tiny fragments and we need to try and rebuild the leg back together again, piece by piece, like a jigsaw.’
And so Rex was whisked away again for more surgery, leaving Rex’s mum, dad, my sister and me waiting for what seemed like for ever for some news, slumped in the uncomfortable chairs, surrounded by empty polystyrene coffee cups. It was torture, and we didn’t really say much because this was hardly the time for small talk.
After what felt like an eternity, a smiley-faced nurse came over and took Rex’s parents to one side and I watched them, deep in conversation, and tried to catch the expressions on his parents’ concerned faces for any clue as to what she might be telling them. It turned out that Rex’s parents were allowed to go in and see him briefly, even though he was still unconscious, and I became euphoric at the thought of seeing him, but the smiley nurse explained that it was family only, and it would be best if I came back tomorrow to see him, because it was getting late. I had wanted to see him so much that I burst into tears again, and Rex’s mum put her arm around me and said that it had been a very long day for everyone, and we should all go away and come back in the morning and, hopefully, God willing, Rex would be awake by then. I reluctantly agreed. I had no fight left in me.
The next day, I was allowed in to see Rex. But now that I had permission I was suddenly struck with an overwhelming fear. The man I deeply loved would be lying there unconscious and lifeless. Would I be able to hide my anguish, or would I break down in front of everyone? I had to be a rock for him. I would hold him and be there to comfort him when - and I had to think it would be when, not if - he came round.
The door creaked eerily as I opened it and I saw him, lying there in the cold, clinical hospital bed with his leg in traction, these great horrible pins sticking through a metal cage around his leg as the machines whirred around him.
I was struck by how peaceful he looked. His usually glossy hair was slightly matted on his pillow and his rosebud lips were pink against his skin. Seeing him like that, with tubes stuck all over his perfect body, machines pumping this and that around him and drips feeding him with God only knew what, I almost crumpled to the floor in the crying, sobbing, guilt-wracked mess that I was.
His lips felt warm and dry as I kissed him softly. I saw that one of my tears splashed down on to his cheek. I gently wiped it away. ‘I’m so sorry, Rex,’ I managed to say. ‘I never meant for any of this. I love you. Oh God, I love you so much. I’ll never forgive myself if you can’t walk again. Please, Rex, wake up . . . Can you hear me, Rex? Please . . .’
I gently lay my head near his chest, careful not to put any pressure on his damaged body, and stayed there until eventually, after what seemed like a lifetime, I fell asleep to the comforting sound of his heartbeat on the monitor.
I had thought of so many things I wanted to say to him, to talk about our future and how I was going to move out to Ibiza. But above all I wanted to tell him the truth about my age, finally, because I needed him to know everything about me. If, like I felt sure he had suggested that night, our future was to be shared, I knew it just didn’t matter any more, especially not now. The accident had put everything into perspective for me. The potential fear of losing him had brought it crashing home and made
it all so clear. My age was irrelevant in the face of such adversity. All that mattered was that he was alive and that I loved him. And he loved me.
Something woke me with a start and at first I thought it was the whirring sound of the horrible machine that Rex was attached to, but when I looked up he was smiling at me and I could see his eyes, those beautiful deep green eyes that made me want to do cartwheels, were staring straight at me.
‘Oh my God, Rex, you’re here – you’re awake!’ I started to cry, but this time they were tears of joy.
‘Jeez, what happened?’ he croaked, looking a little bewildered.
It felt so befitting that he would regain consciousness while I was there, and I wanted to believe that maybe it had something to do with me; that as much as it had all been my fault, I could be the one to save him, my unyielding love for him strong enough to rouse him from his comatose state.
‘How do you feel?’ I asked, even though I was frightened of his response.
‘Iz,’ he said, the fear in his voice cutting through me like a hot knife through butter, ‘I can’t feel my leg,’
I took his hand in mine and smiled through my tears. ‘It’s OK, it’s just the drugs,’ I said soothingly to try and reassure him.
I went and got his parents, because I knew that they would be as happy and overjoyed to see him awake as I was, and that he was going to be OK. I stood at the door as his mum rushed over and held him, cradling his body like a baby, and his dad said that he was so relieved to see him – and everyone was crying, Rex included, so I shut the door and left them to have a private moment together as a family because, for once, I knew it was the right thing to do.
he apartment looked different somehow. The vibrant laughter and playfulness it had witnessed in the past weeks showed no traces of ever having been there. Now it just felt solemn and desolate, and even the warmth of the sunlight shining through the open patio doors couldn’t mask the melancholy that seemed to hang in the air all around us.
Ibiza Summer Page 13