A Proper Family Holiday (38 page)

‘I didn’t dare get you a real one in case I got the wrong one. I was going to ask you to choose something you liked when we got back home.’

Ronnie let him slip the plastic ring onto her finger. ‘I quite like this one,’ she said.

‘It’d save some money if you do,’ said Mark.

‘But … does this mean—? I mean, were you—?’

‘Going to ask you to marry me? Yes, I was. I’ve been thinking about it for years, especially since Jack was born, but I knew you would want a proper wedding. You deserve one. So I was waiting until I’d saved up the money to tell you that you could have whatever you wanted. Big dress. Big party. Even a bloody elephant to pull the bridal carriage.’

Ronnie frowned.

‘Not because you’d need an elephant,’ Mark backtracked quickly. ‘Just because it’s the most exotic thing I could think of.’

Ronnie’s face softened again.

‘So I was supposed to be saving up, but as the years went by, it didn’t seem to get any easier to put aside the money. Every time I managed to salt a couple of hundred quid away, we had an emergency. Then the credit crunch came and my hours got cut. I didn’t want to ask you to marry me and then have to say, “We’re having the reception at Nando’s.”’

Ronnie laughed. ‘The kids love Nando’s,’ she reminded him.

‘Yeah, but it wasn’t what I wanted for
you
. You deserve to have a proper wedding, Ronnie. You deserve to be treated like the princess you are, and I can’t treat you like a princess because I’m only a part-time kitchen fitter. I mean, look at us. This is the first proper holiday we’ve had since Jack was born and your parents had to pay for it. Do you know how small that makes me feel?’

‘You’re not small,’ said Ronnie. ‘You’ve always looked after us. Remember when Sophie was born? You were just a kid. We both were. You’ve done loads of jobs you didn’t want to do just to keep a roof over our heads.’

‘I’ve always wanted more for you, that’s all. Then you got your job and I started thinking that maybe it was going to take someone else to give you what you really need. Your mum told me not to be so stupid. She said I should ask you anyway.’

‘She’s right. I don’t need a big, fancy wedding. I don’t need any of that. I just need you, Mark. I need you to stay by my side the way you always have done. Annoying and irritating at times, but ultimately always there.’

‘So, will you?’

‘Will I what?’

Mark nodded towards the ring box.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Mark! Ask me properly!’

And so Mark got down on one knee, managing, for once, not to complain about the effort it took to bend his aching joints into position. Ronnie handed him the ring box, closed again. Mark flipped it open in front of her, as though the plastic trinket inside were the twenty-carat diamond she deserved.

‘Ronnie Benson,’ he said, ‘will you marry me?’

‘Mark Edwards,’ said Ronnie, ‘I think I will.’

Mark got to his feet. Ronnie threw her arms round his neck and he lifted her from the sand, twirling her round and round.

‘For God’s sake, don’t put your back out before we’ve had a chance to go on honeymoon!’ Ronnie scolded. But that night, for the first time in a long time, she felt as light as a feather. She was floating with happiness. From feeling she was about to lose everything, Ronnie realised on the contrary, she had all that she needed. Mark gently set her down on the sand and kissed her. He slipped the gaudy plastic ring onto her finger.

‘This is the best moment of my life,’ he said.

‘Mine too,’ Ronnie assured him.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Chelsea

After the birthday party, Jack and Chelsea settled down to share a room for the final time.

‘This is our last night together, Jack,’ said Chelsea, as she pulled the sheet up to his chin. Jack immediately wriggled free, as he had done every night. It was way too hot to be tucked in. Chelsea helped him fold the sheet out of the way properly, then perched on the end of his bed to say goodnight.

‘Have you enjoyed this week at the Hotel Volcan?’ she asked him.

‘I love it here. Have you had a nice holiday?’ Jack asked in reciprocation.

‘I have indeed,’ said Chelsea.

‘I’m sad I won’t see you after tomorrow.’

‘Of course you will.’

‘But you’re going back to London and the last time you came to see me at my house was years ago.’

‘I won’t wait so long again. I shall come to Coventry for your mummy’s birthday – how about that?’

Jack calculated the date. ‘That’s before I go back to school. Do you promise?’

‘I promise.’

‘And do you promise me you’ll be better when you come to see me again?’

‘What do you mean, better?’ Chelsea asked. ‘I’m not ill.’

‘But you’ve been sick every night that we’ve been here. I heard you.’

Chelsea’s heart sank. She had thought she was being discreet. She should have known after the first night they shared a room that Jack was a very light sleeper. But even if she had taken that on board, would it really have stopped her?

‘If you need to go to the doctor, you must,’ said Jack. ‘That’s what Mummy tells Daddy, but he’s usually sick because he’s been drinking. You mustn’t be afraid, though, Auntie Chelsea. The doctor is there to help you.’

‘I know. I’ll go to the doctor,’ said Chelsea. ‘As soon as I get back to London, I’ll go.’

‘Good,’ said Jack. ‘Because I was frightened.’

Chelsea drew him into a cuddle.

‘I didn’t want to frighten you,’ she said. ‘I promise you I’ll be OK, and I promise you I will be a much, much better auntie from this moment on. I’ll come and see you as often as I can. I’ll come and see you so often that you’ll start to get sick of me. You’ll get sick of me anyway when you’re a teenager. You certainly won’t want to cuddle your old auntie Chelsea any more.’

‘I’ll always give you a cuddle,’ said Jack.

‘I hope so,’ said Chelsea. ‘Now, it’s time for you to go to sleep. You’ve got to go all the way home to Coventry tomorrow.’

‘I don’t want to go to sleep. I want to stay up all night and talk to you.’

Jack didn’t even manage to stay awake for another fifteen minutes. He nodded off as Chelsea was reading to him from the new Alex Marwood, editing out the really gory bits as she went. Unable to resist, she pulled the sheet up to his chin again. Before she got into her own bed, a sleeping Jack had flung it off.

That night, for the first time in what seemed like a decade, Chelsea did not purge herself of her evening meal. It was difficult not to. She could feel the multi-layered chocolate birthday cake she had eaten because she couldn’t possibly refuse, sitting in her stomach like a slab of damp cement. She so wanted to be rid of it. She curled into a ball beneath the sheet, making herself as tiny as possible, holding herself tightly as she waited for the urge to pass. It felt as though it never would. Inside Chelsea’s mind, an argument was raging. She was desperate to be sick again, but she would not break her promise to Jack. She couldn’t. She would find a way to beat this thing.

At about three o’clock in the morning, Chelsea was still awake, but she still hadn’t purged. She got out of bed and crept to the bathroom door. It was crazy to stay awake any longer. When she got to the bathroom door, though, she realised that vomiting now would be pointless. Her body was already starting to digest the food she’d eaten that evening. She lay back down on her bed. Having resigned herself to the pointlessness of throwing up, she was surprised she didn’t feel as anxious as she might have done. Neither did she look like a whale thanks to that one properly digested meal. Was this the way to do it? One meal at a time? Though she knew it would be tough, Chelsea felt a rush of optimism. As soon as she got back to London, she would bite the bullet and get some proper professional support.

Yes. She could do it. She was going to try to change her life. For Jack and for herself.

Chapter Sixty

The Family

Saturday

Everyone was subdued on their last morning at the Hotel Volcan. As the family took their places at their usual table in the dining room, they were all of them well aware of the fact that that very evening another family would claim the Bensons’ table as their own. What would they be like, this new family? Would their holiday be as full of revelation as theirs had been?

Sophie arranged two fried eggs on her plate. She looked at her father as though challenging him to make a comment. Mark managed to behave. Jack had Chelsea make his sausage sandwich one more time and she managed to get it exactly right.

Even Bill seemed to have recovered from the trauma of his broken engagement.

‘He’s probably forgotten it altogether by now,’ Jacqui said to Ronnie, whose own engagement was already a much bigger story for the Benson clan.

Just an hour later, it was time for the majority of the Bensons to catch the resort coach to the airport. Everyone but Chelsea was flying back to Birmingham. She would be returning to Gatwick the following day, thanks to having missed the flight out.

As the family’s luggage was loaded onto the coach, Ronnie and Chelsea embraced as lovingly as the little girls who had once called each other best friends.

‘You’re not to be a stranger,’ Ronnie reminded her younger sister. ‘You’re to come and stay with us as often as you like. I mean it. We’re never going to fall out with one another again.’

‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ said Chelsea, earning herself a playful cuff round the ear.

‘All right,’ said Ronnie. ‘We’ll stay friends as long as you don’t say anything stupid.’

‘And as long as you don’t overreact if I do,’ Chelsea replied.

‘I never overreact,’ Ronnie protested.

‘Mum, you always overreact,’ was Sophie’s view. It hadn’t taken long for Sophie to get over her wilderness adventure and rediscover her inner bolshy teen.

‘Come here, Sophie.’ Chelsea demanded a cuddle. Sophie briefly pulled a face that suggested she could imagine nothing more embarrassing, but she gave in and wrapped her arms round her aunt’s waist all the same. ‘And you.’ Chelsea gestured to Jack.

Jack had been standing apart from the women, with his father and his granddad. Chelsea was aware he had been slightly strange with her all morning. Now as she gestured towards him, Jack buried his face in his father’s shorts and refused even to look at her.

‘Come on, Jack.’ Sophie had decided that a ten-second hug was quite long enough and so Chelsea’s arms were free. Chelsea walked over to the men and sank down onto her haunches so that she was level with Jack’s face.

‘I won’t see you again,’ he said.

‘Of course you’ll see me again – don’t be silly. We’re best friends now, aren’t we? You and me. The winning team.’ She offered him a fist to bump.

Jack dared to peep out at his aunt. His eyes were wet and pink-rimmed.

‘I’m not crying,’ he insisted when Chelsea reached out a hand to wipe away his tears.

‘I know you’re not,’ she said. ‘Your eyes are just leaking.’

‘Go on,’ Mark said to his son. ‘Don’t be so moody. Give your auntie a hug.’

Encouraged by a gentle push from his father, Jack at last allowed Chelsea to wrap him in her arms. Once he had done that, the waterworks were switched to full on. His eyes weren’t just leaking now; a dam had burst.

‘Jack,’ said Chelsea, ‘you have made this the best holiday of my life, ever. I will never forget how much fun we’ve had, but we’re going to have more fun together, you and me. Right up until you’re a teenager and you tell me you don’t want to be seen with your boring old auntie any more.’

‘I’ll never think you’re boring.’

‘I’ll remind you how you once said that when you do.’

‘What was your best bit of the holiday?’ Jack asked then.

‘I think it was seeing you get your trophy in the fancy-dress competition,’ said Chelsea, ‘but that wasn’t just the best bit of the holiday. That was the best bit of my year.’

Jack nodded. Chelsea could see he was pleased.

‘I’ll remember that every single day,’ he said.

‘And me,’ said Chelsea. ‘I’m going to put the photo on my desk.’

‘Everybody for the airport on board now,’ said the driver. ‘It’s time to go.’

‘That means us,’ said Mark, putting his hand on Jack’s shoulder.

‘No!’ Jack protested. ‘No, I don’t want to go!’ He held Chelsea more tightly. So tightly she could feel his little fingers digging into her skin. Mark gently peeled Jack off. ‘I don’t want to go,’ Jack cried again. Chelsea wiped a tear from her own eye. Every time Mark managed to prise one of Jack’s limbs from Chelsea’s body, Jack grasped her more tightly in some other way. One arm off. One leg on. It was like trying to remove a determined octopus. In the end, Chelsea had to somehow get to her feet and carry Jack to the coach herself, where his mother and grandmother performed a four-handed manoeuvre to free Chelsea of his clinging embrace.

‘I love you, Auntie Chelsea!’ Jack cried out.

‘And I love you.’

At last, Chelsea was back outside the coach and waving goodbye. She waved until the coach had rounded a corner and disappeared, leaving her standing alone on the pavement. It was hard to believe how difficult it had been to say goodbye to Jack when she remembered how horrified she had been by his sticky hug on their first day at the Hotel Volcan. She smiled to herself as she remembered recoiling from Jack’s ice cream-covered hands. Then she looked down and saw that he had left snot all over the front of her last clean T-shirt. And she didn’t care a bit.

Airborne at last, Ronnie looked out at the island as it shrank away beneath them. As the plane gained altitude, she clutched Sophie and Mark by the hands. Across the aisle, Jack was in his element, tucked safely between his doting grandparents. Bill was already snoozing in his seat with his head lolling back and his mouth wide open. Her beloved granddad. Only Chelsea was missing from this gang of people whom Ronnie loved most in the world, and she knew that it wouldn’t be long before they saw her again. If nothing else, Chelsea would have to come to Coventry for the wedding that Ronnie was determined to fix as soon as she got back home. She’d already Googled the Coventry registrar’s office and discovered that you could organise a wedding in as little as sixteen days.