Ibiza Summer (15 page)

‘Hey, Edie,’ I said with a breezy smile and she kind of half smiled back, which worried me a little as I figured she was more upset with me than I thought.

‘Listen, I’m so sorry about the other day. I’ve been feeling pretty poorly – food poisoning or something. Anyway, I’m better now, so if you fancy it, I thought
maybe we could hang out a bit today?’

She had a blank look on her face. I could tell she didn’t believe me.

‘Yeah, OK,’ she said, her expression changing from grim to a grin. ‘I’m going to the games room now.’ And by that I presumed she meant to add, ‘So you had
better come with me.’

Ellie had questioned me a little about my rushed exit on the boat the previous evening, but I had talked my way out of it with quite some aplomb. I’d told Ellie I had come over all sick
again and for fear of maybe throwing up there and then on the top deck in front of everyone – which even Ellie had to admit would’ve been simply hideous – I had run off to chuck
up in the loos. Ellie had eventually found me and taken me to the captain’s quarters, where I was able to lie down (or rather, hide) for the duration of the trip. When we docked at the
marina, I had rushed off the boat so fast that Ellie had struggled to keep up with me. As a result, she had sworn she would take me to a doctor first thing this morning, but I had assured her I now
felt one hundred per cent better and ate two helpings of pancakes with maple syrup to prove it.

Explaining to Rex, on the other hand, was going to be another matter entirely. He had left me three messages from last night. The first sounded almost jovial: ‘Hey Iz, where are you? You
just zipped off. Your beer’s getting warm. I’m still on the top deck waiting for you.’ The second sounded more urgent: ‘It’s been over half an hour. I’m worried,
Iz. I can’t find you. Are you OK? Did I do something?
Please
call me.’ His third and final message had a different, more sombre tone and it had made me feel sick when I heard it:
‘Iz, it’s me. I’ve searched the boat and I can’t find you anywhere. I guess you must still be here – if you want to be found, let me know. But you know, if you
don’t, well, that’s fair enough.’ He had sounded upset, even a little angry. Who could blame him? I had disappeared without trace, leaving him standing there looking like a chump
in front of his friends, wondering what the hell had happened.

‘We’re off to the games room for a bit,’ I said to Ellie.

‘OK, babes, we’ll be round here until late if you need us,’ Ellie said, gesturing towards the sun loungers by the pool that might as well have been emblazoned with their names,
given the amount of time they had spent on them.

So Edie was on one side of the Daytona machine and I was on the other. We were racing against each other and she was thrashing me.
Driver One Wins
flashed over our screens and she gave a
little ‘whoo-hoo’ as she punched the air in victory.

‘So,’ Edie said, as she began inserting coins into another of the games machines, ‘that time you cancelled when we were supposed to go to the beach, it didn’t have
anything to do with a guy, did it?’

I was dumbfounded. How had she guessed? I mean, there I was, lying my face off to my sister who had known me all my life and who was that much older and supposedly wiser, and here was Edie, this
goofy fourteen-year-old who I’d only met a couple of times in my life, who had sussed me out completely.

‘How did you know that?’ I asked, trying to keep my cool and not give too much away.

‘You’re a terrible liar,’ she said, although not maliciously. ‘So is that why you looked like you were going to choke on your croissant when you saw me coming over,
because you thought I might say something to your sister? Doesn’t she know about him or something?’

I was beginning to wonder if Edie was psychic.

‘Listen, Edie,’ I said, moving my chair closer in to hers in a conspiratorial way, ‘I’ve met this amazing man and I can’t tell my sister about him because, well,
it’s complicated, so you know, I kind of need a good alibi and I was hoping . . .’

I had nothing to lose by asking her outright if she’d cover for me. She’d pretty much guessed my game anyway and I figured it would be best to have her on side rather than lie to
her, because all this lying business was becoming massively stressful and complex.

‘Well, the thing is, I would, no problems, but we’re going home tomorrow,’ Edie said, looking a little crestfallen.

‘Oh,’ I said, matching her expression. I was gutted, because all the time I could say I was with Edie I knew Ellie wouldn’t worry. Edie was here with her parents, so Ellie knew
that wherever Edie was, they weren’t too far behind and therefore I was safe.

I felt a bit sad too, because now I knew she was going home, I wished I had managed to spend more time with Edie. I sensed I would like Edie more once I got to know her better and that she was
probably a lot of fun, as well as intuitive. I vowed to try and squeeze in an afternoon at the beach with her by way of saying goodbye.

‘But you know, you could always
still
say you were with me . . . You’re desperate to see this lad, right?’ she said, seemingly enjoying the whole subterfuge of the
conversation. ‘So, it’s simple: don’t tell your sister we’ve gone home. Just pretend I’m still here and everything’s normal and that you’re still hanging
out with me!’

I stared back at the face opposite me and felt like grabbing it and planting a kiss on each plump, pink cheek.

‘Edie – Edie . . . ?’ and I realised I didn’t know her last name.

‘Price,’ she said helpfully.

‘Edie Price,’ I announced, ‘
you
are an absolute genius!’

‘Thanks!’ she said, smiling wickedly. ‘I reckon that’s worth holding on to that Dude Sound CD, don’t you?’ And I had to admit that it was.

t had taken all the courage I had to call Rex when I went back up to the apartment. I was terrified he would be
upset, or worse, angry with me for running off. I had to try and explain, to make it up to him and apologise.

The conversation had started off uncomfortably. ‘Well, hello stranger,’ he said, in measured tones. ‘What happened to
you
last night?’

‘Oh Rex, I’m so sorry,’ I said, panic rising in my throat. ‘I was taken ill suddenly – must’ve been food poisoning or something. I had to rush off because I
thought I was going to be si— well, you know, ill.’ I didn’t much relish the distinctly unattractive idea of Rex imagining me bent double over a toilet bowl, throwing my guts up,
but I preferred it to the truth. ‘I’m so, so sorry to have just left you there like that – will you forgive me?’

There was a pause before he said quietly, ‘You should have called me. I was so worried. I spent the rest of the night searching for you. I thought I’d done something to upset you.
Why didn’t you call?’

I braced myself. I had rehearsed this lie over in my mind before phoning him, but still I was scared I would stuff it up and trip over my words.

‘I couldn’t call. I was so sick that I had to go and lie down in the captain’s quarters until we docked. I could hardly speak for being ill and my friends were so worried they
thought they might have to take me to a hospital.’ I winced as I said it, horrified at my own ability to tell such blatant lies.

There was another pause and I held my breath, waiting for his response.

‘Well, I’m just glad you’re OK. You
are
OK, aren’t you?’ he asked, concerned.

‘Yes, much better, thanks. I’m sorry,’ I said again. I felt terrible.

‘Stop saying you’re sorry,’ he said, softly. ‘It couldn’t be helped.’

‘I’m sorry. I’ll stop saying I’m sorry,’ I replied, and we both laughed a little shakily.

‘Forgive me if my last message sounded harsh,’ he said. ‘I had no idea you were ill. I just thought you’d gone and left me and, well, all sorts of horrible stuff went
through my mind. I wracked my brain trying to remember if I’d said or done something that would make you run off like that, but I couldn’t think . . .’

He sounded so insecure, and I wished I was standing in front of him so I could hold him and reassure him.

‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,’ I said. ‘You weren’t to know.’

‘Maybe it was the lobster,’ he said.

‘The lobster?’

‘That made you ill. You’ve got to be careful with seafood, you know – botulism.’

‘Maybe I’m just lovesick,’ I said quietly, not sure whether I should push it because he might still be a little annoyed with me, even if he didn’t sound it now.

‘Nah, can’t have been that,’ he said.

‘Why not?’ I asked.

‘Because then I’d have got ill as well,’ he said.

I felt a wave of relief and happiness. When he said things like that, I felt sure that he loved me as well. And it felt so good I wanted to bathe in the warm glow of his words, let them surround
me and caress me and fill me with hope and confidence.

‘If you’re feeling up to it, perhaps you’d like to come to the market with me later?’ he asked tentatively. ‘Or, I could always come to you and nurse you better . .
.’

‘The market sounds perfect,’ I said, quickly. ‘I’d love to come.’

I put the phone down and smiled. It was going to be OK. I was forgiven.

The hippy market at Es Cana was buzzing with shoppers that afternoon. Enticing smells of freshly-cooked food wafted out from various stalls and the place was awash with colour.
Rex took my hand as we strolled past the many people selling exotic batik clothing and handmade leather goods, and I breathed in the thick smell of joss sticks in the air.

‘Only ten euro!’ a trader shouted, holding up a pink leather handbag that had a long strap on it. ‘Look good, look good,’ he called to me as we walked past.

Rex waved his hand, ‘
Non, gracias
,’ he smiled at him kindly. ‘Hey, Iz, I want to show you something,’ he said, pulling me over towards this little stall that was
full of beads and bright trinkets, A very old, skinny, dark-skinned man, sat by it, his face all leathery-looking and wrinkled from the sun. ‘
Hola Juan Pablo, me allegro de volver a
verle
,’ said Rex, holding out his hands, and I gathered that this must be the hippy guy he had told me about. They embraced warmly, and the old man said something in Spanish to Rex and
Rex laughed a little and pulled me closer to him, proudly.

‘
Si, si . . . una chica muy guapa!
’ Rex beamed, and I was desperate to know what this meant, but didn’t like to ask. Either way, it had sounded like Juan Pablo had paid
me a compliment so I wasn’t too worried.

‘Choose something you like,’ Rex said, gesturing to the piles of silver jewellery displayed on the table.

‘No, I couldn’t!’ I replied, embarrassed.

‘Don’t be daft. Please, I want to buy you something, anything – just choose something you like.’

‘No, really.’

The old hippy guy looked at us, amused by our squabbling. But Rex was insistent, so he picked out this amazing little bracelet with tiny silver bells on it and it was just so beautiful and
unusual that I fell in love with it instantly, just like I did for him.

The sun was beating down on us and we decided to take shelter in a small outdoor café that had huge red-and-white striped umbrellas, and Rex ordered us two strawberry
lassis.

‘I love my present,’ I said, turning my wrist to the side slightly to inspect my new gift. ‘It’s really beautiful.’

‘The bells make a little jingly sound whenever you move. That means I’ll be able to tell when you’re sneaking up on me,’ he laughed.

‘Sneaking up on people is
your
job!’ I protested, thinking of all the times he’d popped up from behind me this holiday. ‘Thanks for bringing me here today,’
I said, being serious for a moment, ‘for being my own private tour guide.’

‘It’s been my pleasure.’ He smiled. ‘But there are so many other places I want to take you to. There’s so much I’d love you to see. The mountains, for one
thing – they’re absolutely breathtaking. And then there’s Pepe’s Bar – this tiny little restaurant just north of Es Cana. It serves the most amazing food: fresh paella
and mussels and shrimps . . .’

‘Ugh, don’t bring up seafood,’ I said, pulling a face and clutching my stomach, attempting to validate the whole food-poisoning lie from the boat party.