Page 28 of An Island Promise

‘Oh for goodness’ sake, Gem. Why the hell not?’

‘Because I’m a fucking failure and she has the perfect relationship.’

‘And you don’t want to tell her because, what? You think she’ll judge you? Look down on you? She is the kindest and most supportive friend – she’ll 100 per cent be in your corner, Gem.’

‘Maybe, but I’ll tell her in my own good time. Please promise me you won’t say anything.’

‘Fine, I won’t.’

Gem let out a long, shuddery breath. ‘Everything’s got to me today.’ The anger that had been coating her words dispersed. ‘I noticed this morning that Dan had updated his Facebook profile to “in a relationship” withher. It’s nothing, a meaningless status when we’ve been broken up for weeks. But it just upset me. It suddenly feels very real.’

‘Oh Gem, you need to go easy on yourself. You have two kids together. It’s bound to be hard and confusing. But I’m glad you felt like you could confide in me.’ Belle scraped her fingers through the cool grains of sand. ‘By the way, the flowers you sent Laurie the other week after her embryo transfer was a really thoughtful gesture. You don’t have to speak to her to show you care.’

‘I know.’ Gem sighed. ‘I’m sorry. Thank you for phoning. I don’t mean to snap and rage all the flipping time. And I’m gutted for Laurie, I really am. I’ll message her now.’

After saying goodbye to Gem, Belle remained on the beach for a while. Both of her friends’ upset had got to her, their disappointments out of kilter with how happy she should be sitting on a beach in Ibiza. The salty breeze dried her tears and left her cheeks feeling tight. She wrapped her arms around herlegs and watched the moonlight dance on the inky sea where it rippled all the way to the horizon. Two different beats mingled from the beach bars on either side of her, a reminder of the past and the good times she’d shared with her friends.

The three of them had always worked and their differing personalities complemented each other. Yet Laurie was worried about talking to Gem and while Gem had confided in Belle, she didn’t want Laurie to know the truth about her and Dan. The three of them being together on Ibiza again was probably a bad idea, yet they all needed to face up to the reality of their lives and somehow attempt to mend their friendship.

17

Talking to Belle before the outdoor movie at Serenity had felt as easy as if Caleb had been talking to Cara, although Belle was less acerbic and didn’t tease the hell out of him like Cara did, but then they didn’t know each other well and he had to remind himself that their relationship was different.

He hadn’t seen much of Belle for the rest of the week until the Friday evening when he’d been in the restaurant chatting to a couple in their fifties. He’d spotted her pacing on the beach while talking on her phone, her white dress bright in the moonlight. She’d remained sitting on the beach long after she’d finished the call, hugging her knees like she needed a friend.

On the way to his car, Caleb had considered going over to see if she was okay, but she’d stood up and brushed the sand off the back of her dress and the moment had passed. He’d walked away, not wanting her to think he’d been watching, and headed home instead, but the image of Belle on her own looking sad and vulnerable stayed with him.

He’d woken late the following morning remembering fragments of a dream, a woman in white whose face he couldn’t see clearly.

A message buzzed on his phone.

I’m going to cook bullit de peix later. Come eat with us.

Somehow his mother-in-law Maria always knew when he needed comforting and a reason to not be on his own. Maria and Juan warmly embracing him into their lives because of his love for their daughter had meant so much and he’d clung on to the big happy family he’d gained as an adult but had missed out on growing up.

Caleb stretched out in the king-size bed. Cara had commented more than once that Solace was like a show home. The kitchen was barely used because he tended to eat at Spirit – or at his former mother-in-law’s most weekends – but he did love to cook. It just felt pointless only cooking for himself now. The same way his bedroom was neat and functional, unfinished without pictures on the wall or cushions scattered on the bed because it was just him. One wardrobe was full of his clothes, the other, which should have been Paloma’s, had remained empty. The only personal items were on his bedside table: a lamp, a small stack of books and a framed photo of Paloma. He had other ones in the drawer, photos from their wedding day and their brief few years together before their lives had been flipped upside down, but he still found it too painful to look at them.

Maria understood how the mornings were the worst for him, waking up without Paloma. The few times he’d woken up with someone else next to him the guilt had been all-consuming.

He thumbed a reply to Maria to say he’d see her later, threw off the bed covers, showered then made the first espresso of the day. He drank it on the balcony that overlooked the terrace, the mid-morning sun making the white of Ibiza Town further along the coast sparkle.

Paloma’s parents’ house was further up the coast towards the village of Cala Llenya. The drive always made Caleb think about how different his life would have been if Paloma had lived. He would probably have worked just as much but she’d have been by his side, running the restaurant at Serenity. A place that embodied the romantic and peaceful side of the White Isle, that had been her dream. His love for Ibiza had been born from the partying side of the island, so his focus had always been on giving the guests a good time rather than a quiet time. He’d loved how she was the ying to his yang. She’d changed him, some friends had argued tamed him, but he’d been fine with that, happy to put his lothario ways behind him because rather than spending occasional nights with random women, he wanted to spend his whole life with the woman he loved.

Children had been part of their long-term plans, but following chemotherapy, Paloma had gone through an early menopause. She’d been an incredible auntie to her eldest niece and nephew for three all-too-brief years. There were four more little ones now, the nieces and nephews Paloma had missed out on getting to know, but she lived on in their hearts. Maria, Juan and her brothers made sure of that. Caleb struggled with the memories, and talking about her made him relive his loss, reopening wounds he wanted to stay patched up. But he’d never had the chance to heal. The Torres Corchado family had embraced him when Paloma had brought him into her life and they’d clung on to him when they’d lost her.

Caleb swiped angrily at his tears and tried to concentrate on the road. The island had lost its charm without her. Yet with the roof down and the sun shining, the buffeting wind made him feelalive and guilty, always guilty for being the one still experiencing life, although he knew Paloma would chastise him for thinking like that, for being so focused on work that he was missing out on the things that had once made life so good. She’d have said watching a film with Cara or playing an online game with friends who lived thousands of miles away wasn’t really socialising. They’d planned a life of working hard but playing harder, but it didn’t feel the same without her.

Caleb parked outside Maria and Juan’s house. From the road it was unassuming, a single-storey building with white-washed walls and blue shutters shaded by trees. Their house felt lived in, homely and filled with love, somewhere he was drawn to yet was a constant reminder of the future he’d lost.

A narrow path filled with pots of flowers, herbs and cacti ran along the side of the house and the front door was open, as always. What was unusual was how quiet it was, no voices drifting through or kids careening about outside.

‘Maria?’ Caleb called from the dusky hallway.

‘Estic a la cuina!’ she shouted back, and Caleb followed the mouth-watering smell of onions and garlic frying into the rustic kitchen, the heart of the home and Maria’s pride and joy.

Conversation with Maria and her family was usually a mix of Catalan and English and after twenty-four years on the island, Caleb effortlessly switched between the two. He kissed Maria on each cheek and looked around. ‘Where is everyone?’

‘They will be here soon.’

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