Ibiza Summer (17 page)

The sound of my phone beeping snapped me back to reality. I stopped doodling and went to my bag to retrieve it. Rex had left me a message. I hadn’t even heard it ring and felt anxious that
I had missed his call.

‘Hey gorgeous . . .’ There was a slight pause. ‘Er – not sure if this is recording . . . It’s me by the way, Rex. You know that
crazy
DJ bloke who’s
crazy
about you. Listen, two things. First up, I
have
to see you tonight. No excuses . . . There was another pause. ‘Anyway – er, the second thing is, I’ve got an
idea for the name of that boat we’re going to have some day. Remember when we were down by the marina looking at them the other night? Well, how about
Ritmo de la Noche
? It means
“rhythm of the night”. I thought it sounded quite cool, you know, with the whole DJ connection and everything . . . Well, anyway, I’m waffling now – and erm, your phone is
saying something to me. Please try and —’

‘End of message!’ the recorded voice said abruptly, and I clutched the phone to my chest and shut my eyes. I made a mental note never to delete the message, so that whenever we were
apart I’d feel close to him and could hear him telling me over and over again that he was crazy about me.

I called him back.

‘Listen, can you meet me?’ he asked.

‘I can try,’ I said, mentally planning my escape from Ellie and Co.

‘Please try. There’s something I want you to see.’

‘Really? What?’

‘You’ll find out,’ he said, sounding pleased with himself.

‘OK, well, you say goodbye first then,’ I said.

‘Goodbye first,’ he said.

‘Goodbye second,’ I said, and reluctantly I clicked off my phone.

I knew I had to meet him, find out what it was that he so desperately wanted to show me. I told Ellie I was going out with Edie and her parents to some Spanish dancing evening
at a restaurant and would probably be back a bit late. It was shocking how easily the ever-more creative lies were beginning to fall from my lips. Ellie seemed none the wiser though and if she had
guessed anything was up, she sure as hell wasn’t letting on about it. She was probably secretly pleased I was spending all this time with Edie, bogus though it was, because it meant she could
go off clubbing with her mates. This way, she didn’t need to ask too many questions.

I managed to sneak off before the others came back from the pool to do their ritual getting-ready-to-go-out session and ran down to the lilo shop to meet him.

As soon as he saw me he got off his bike and held me in his arms for ages, only momentarily breaking off to kiss me.

‘I’m so glad you came,’ he said softly. ‘I don’t know why, but I suddenly had this feeling that you might cancel.’

I shook my head. ‘Don’t be daft,’ I said. ‘The world would have to stop turning before I would cancel on you.’

He stood there frozen in this funny pose and I realised he was making out that the world had really stopped and he’d been frozen in time.

I laughed and he seemed glad that he’d made me smile. ‘Why would you think I’d cancel?’ I asked.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Rex said, avoiding my gaze. ‘These friends of yours . . . I thought maybe they’d start getting fed up with the fact that we’re spending so
much time together. I mean, you are supposed to be on holiday with them after all.’

‘Don’t worry about them,’ I said. ‘They’re happy for me.’

I felt a bit sick as I said it and I wondered if they really would be happy for me if they knew the truth.

The sun was setting as we pulled up at the side of the dusty road. We were high up on a mountain and even though I had no real idea of where we were it all seemed strangely
familiar, the fragrant scent of the pine trees in the air and lush green hills sheltering us.

‘Come on,’ he said, and he held my hand as we walked a little way up the mountainside. We reached a little clearing at the edge of the mountain and I looked out towards the sea. The
sunset was as beautiful as ever, if not more so tonight, the rich golds mixing with the deep red and splashes of purple, and I could tell it was going to be another beautiful day tomorrow. I
squeezed his hand tightly.

‘Look down,’ he said, and he pulled me a little closer to the edge of the mountain so I could get a better view. And then I saw it.

In the bay below us, written in the sand with pebbles and shells were the words,
I LOVE YOU ISABELLE
surrounded by a giant heart also made from pebbles and stones that he’d
obviously hand-picked from the shore. It looked so huge from up here it made me wonder just how big it really was down there, and I figured that it must’ve taken him ages – maybe even
the whole day – to collect all those stones and turn them into something so beautiful. I gasped as I turned to look at him, standing there in front of me, his green eyes shining brightly and
smiling his perfect smile.

I was smiling too, only I realised that tears were falling from my face as well. I was so blown away by it. I was so happy that he felt the same: he loved me.
Oh God, he really loved me!
Yet through my happiness was this infinite sadness too. I had not told the truth about myself and therefore I couldn’t allow myself to fully believe it was all real. I wondered if the two,
happiness and sadness, were forever intertwined, one not existing without the other. Just like me and him.

I turned to face him, the last of the fading sun’s rays casting light on to his hair. We held each other and kissed deeply, with a sense of urgency that, it seemed, until now we had only
just touched upon, and I wanted to drown in his deep, sea-green eyes. We both knew time was running out for us. I would be going home in a week. Yet I knew deep in my heart, unlike the sun that was
fading behind us, the love I felt for him never would.

t was getting late and we decided to stop off at Rex’s place in Es Cana to sample those olives he had told me
about. It was the most perfect little whitewashed house ever, with a shock of pink flowers growing up the side. Rex told me that the flowers were called bougainvillea and had picked some for me to
put in my hair, which I gladly did because anything that made my hair look nicer was all right in my book.

I was slightly apprehensive about going back to Rex’s house. Having already shown me most of his regular haunts and places of personal meaning, it seemed as though this was the last place
he wanted me to see – like in showing me, he was revealing the final aspect of himself.

It was a warm, balmy evening and Rex suggested we sit in the garden that was full of flowers and little trees and plants and shrubs, their scent filling the air with a pungent aroma. Underneath
a tree was one of those swinging benches with a canopy over the top. I almost squealed with delight when I saw it. My sister and I had always wanted one as kids.

We both fell backwards on to the bench and began to swing, the soft evening breeze and heady smell of the flowers wafting past our noses as we rocked.

‘It’s beautiful here,’ I said as I tentatively placed the olive that he’d given me in my mouth – and it actually tasted OK, nothing like the ones Willow and I had
sampled back home. ‘I can see why you’d never want to come home.’

‘This
is
my home,’ Rex said, letting one leg dangle over the edge of the bench as it swung. ‘I will never leave here. Ibiza is where my heart is. I’ve never felt
more at home anywhere in the world – and you know, I’ve travelled a bit: all over Europe, Thailand, Bali, across Asia, Australia, New Zealand, America, Mexico and of course,
Manchester.’ He laughed.

I was pretty impressed. This was only my third time abroad, unless you count a day trip to Calais with the school when I was twelve, in which case it was my fourth.

‘Although my family are back in England, I don’t think of it as home,’ he said. ‘You know when you’re away in a different place and you dream of home? Well, Ibiza
is where I dream of, even though I’ve only been here for five years.’

All this talk of home made me think about my own: my home in London with Mum and Ellie and Greg. I thought of my bedroom – my small, cosy bedroom with the pale-pink walls that badly needed
redecorating, and my fairy lights in the shape of hearts around my bed, with my big warm duvet and fluffy pillows, and my books and CDs and my clothes and shoes and bags strewn across the floor. I
suddenly missed it, missed my mum and, shocked as I was to admit it, even Greg too. Abruptly I craved the uncomplicated normality of it all, the predictability of my pre-Ibiza life and the hustle
and bustle of my daily routine: going to school, hanging out with Wils, doing nothing much in particular. Everything had seemed so straightforward before I’d come here. It had been simple and
familiar, which made me feel safe. I wondered if, on my return, everything would just slot right back into its old place, or would things have irrevocably changed, especially now that Wils had
found a new friend and I had fallen in love?

‘But, you see, a house isn’t a home unless there’s love there . . .’ Rex said, breaking my thoughts.

‘No, I guess not,’ I said with a smile and I thought about how much love there was and had been in my house over the years. ‘No one’s ever done anything like that for me
before – you know, the letters in the sand,’ I said, referring to his pledge on the beach. ‘It was so . . . so lovely.’

‘I meant it, you know,’ he said, shuffling in closer to me. ‘I wanted to do something special for you.’

I sensed he was thinking about the whole time-running-out issue again but I couldn’t bring it up. It hurt too much to even think about it, let alone say it out loud.

‘It
was
special,’ I said, and he would never really know how much.

‘
You’re
special,’ he said, looking at me, his eyes filled with sincerity. ‘You know, I’ll be twenty-seven soon and although it’s not exactly old, I was
beginning to wonder if I’d ever find you . . .’

I looked up at him now, entranced by what he was saying.

‘I know I live in this crazy, hedonistic world filled with parties and eternal sunshine, but one day I knew I’d meet someone that would change the way I feel about my future, someone
I could envisage spending my life with: marriage and a family – all that is really important to me. I’m actually quite traditional at heart,’ he said, seeming a little shy all of
a sudden.

I swallowed dryly, unsure of how to feel. His words both scared and exhilarated me simultaneously. Was he saying it was me?
I
was the one he wanted to grow old with?

‘When I was twenty-two, your age, I was bang on it,’ he continued. ‘Music and partying was all I ever thought about. I never thought about tomorrow, let alone the next ten
years. But you know since meeting you, I’ve thought more about my future and what I want from it than ever before.’

I looked down at my feet, uncertain of how to respond. I wished I could fast-forward my life ten years – to be twenty-six, the same age as him. I wanted to want those things too: marriage,
children, a home life with a man I loved. I wanted to have them with him – but right now hearing him talk about them made them seem so real and it felt strange. Rex was still looking at me
intensely and I smiled at him nervously.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said, sensing my discomfort. ‘I’m not about to whisk you down the aisle or anything. Not just yet anyway,’ he laughed and took my hand.
‘When do you have to go?’ he asked, squeezing it tightly.

‘Well, I said I would probably be back before it got too late.’

‘No, I mean go
home
, back to London?’ His voice was wavering. He’d finally been the braver of us both and had brought up the subject of me leaving.

‘Next Monday,’ I said quietly. And we both sat there, the sadness of those inevitable words hanging there, mixed with the scent of the flowers in the air.

‘Well,’ he said, finally, ‘in that case I don’t want to waste a second.’ He began rocking the bench really high, back and forth, and I began to shriek because I
thought the whole thing might collapse any second.

‘Enough!’ I screamed and I tried to stop him, but he grabbed me by the waist and started tickling me, and I was gasping for breath – and sure enough, the rope that was
supporting the battered old swing bench finally gave way under the strain and we crashed down on the grass with a bump.