Page 10

THREE

Suzie

‘?Hola! ?Senora Callaghan? Bienvenida a Mallorca.’

‘Sí, gracias. Encantada.’

‘?Usted habla espanol?’ she asks excitedly.

‘Solo un poco.’

I have a feeling that another reason why I’ve been invited on this holiday is that I have some ability in conversational Spanish that may help during our time here.

The sisters stand behind me, Lucy to the back to hide her party girl face, hoping all these Spanish words are positives.

The lady in front of us is in a linen dress with a blazer, and a name badge.

Rosa. She’s tanned, her hair slicked back, looking very different to those of us who’ve endured an early-morning flight and the joys and hassles of navigating our way over here in our hire car through dusty amber roads, flanked by rocks and trees, nearly taking out a whole herd of unmanned goats on the way.

‘There are six of you, only?’ she asks.

‘Yes,’ interrupts Meg. ‘I was the lead booker. I am sorry we were tarde . There were cabrónes on the road.’

‘CAbrAS,’ I say. Goats, as opposed to bastards.

We’re lucky that makes Rosa laugh.

‘Then let me take you around the villa, tell you about the key codes and show you where the linens and controls are,’ she says politely to Meg.

We probably should follow, but instead we stand by the side of that pool, gawping into the space in front of us.

When the gate pulled back, we were mesmerised but as we walked out over the stone paths to take in the views and the size of this place, we realised this was not just any villa.

This was some slice of paradise, hidden away in the mountains.

Through groves of orange trees smelling sweetly of jasmine, the paths led down to a traditional looking stone house, shutters to the windows, guarded by yew trees and encircled by a giant patio with tables, chairs and an outside cooking space.

Beyond that, there’s a perfectly azure pool, surrounded by white sun loungers and parasols.

All you can hear is the trickle of water, and a few birds tweeting their welcomes; you can almost hear the sun beating down on us, baking the floor.

And the view. It’s like a long deep exhalation, you can see sea, sky in all directions and just feel it all repairing your soul. Even Lucy is lost for words.

‘Well, feliz cumpleanos, senora, and we really hope you all enjoy your stay at Villa Suenos,’ Rosa tells us, returning with Meg. She looks at our party curiously. I’m hoping it’s not the UB40 T-shirts. ‘There are no men?’ she asks.

‘No, it’s a women’s only holiday,’ Lucy pipes up proudly, putting her arm around Grace.

Rosa looks over at us, blankly. ‘Oh. That is fine. I do not mean to…I don’t know the word… No pretendo juzgar .’

My Spanish is basic so I just nod back. I think she said something about lights but I’m hoping she’s also left us a manual.

‘Are you expecting other visitors? Maybe from town?’ she asks curiously .

The sisters look a little confused but mostly look at Lucy who is a fan of bringing in strays and one-night stands.

Still, the theme for the weekend seems to be womanly bonding so I’d assume she would know what is appropriate.

We all shake our heads, assuming any outsiders is possibly against the rules of our rental.

‘Then enjoy…ladies. Actually, there’s some items in the bathroom that you might find useful,’ she says, a little tentatively.

‘Gracias por su ayuda,’ Meg tells her.

Meg’s been on Duolingo. I know because she told me on the plane. The accent is a little off but she’s tried and Rosa looks impressed she’s made the effort at least. She takes her leave as we all stand there in different states of shock gazing at this place that will be home for the next few days.

Grace turns towards the sun silently, letting it beat against her face, Beth removes layers as the intense heat starts to hit, draping them over her trolley bag.

Emma looks around, silently, her eye catching the big mega barbeque and outdoor dining area. ‘Meg, this is too much. How much did it cost you? We should be chipping in?’

The other sisters look to Meg in agreement and curiosity. ‘Danny booked it as a gift. He had a contact. I mean, it’s my fortieth and I don’t splurge enough on myself apparently.’

Lucy heads to the pool, kicking off her shoes and sitting on the side to dip her feet in. ‘And this is why I’ve always liked Danny.’

I think about the gesture, booking a holiday for someone when you’re not even going on the holiday yourself, acknowledging that they are deserving of something this grand, this special. I see Meg look around the place, floored by it but unable to wipe the huge smile from her face.

‘Is this private enough for your yoni sunning then?’ Meg jokes .

‘It’s perfect,’ Lucy says, standing up to take off her T-shirt and shorts revealing she had her bikini on the whole time.

Some of us really know how to prepare for a holiday.

She jumps into the pool squealing with delight, splashing Emma slightly who would probably normally be angry but instead smiles broadly.

Beth takes off her trainers and socks and dips her feet in, stepping into the shallows, the relief on her face clear to all.

‘Take it all off, Beth!’ her sister commands.

‘I haven’t got any swimmers on?’ Beth complains.

‘You have a bra and knickers on, it’s practically the same!’ Lucy yells, as she comes over to attack her, like some sort of overexcited shark.

‘Well, now the kids are being entertained. Let’s get some drinks, I’m gasping,’ Emma tells me, putting a hand to my arm so we can explore.

The other sisters disperse as Emma and I stroll inside towards the reprieve of cool stone floors and ceiling fans.

Inside the décor is minimalist, large sofas by windows framed by gauzy curtains that let in a cool mountain breeze, and an open-plan kitchen with a fridge bigger than the moon.

‘IS THERE A PUMP IN THE HOUSE?’ a voice booms from outside. I stick my head out of the window to see Lucy has opened her bag poolside and seems to have brought a large inflatable unicorn with her.

‘How did she…?’

‘Fit that in her bag?’ Emma asks. ‘Oh, she got me to carry her clothes. Which is actually fine as she’s mostly brought bits of string and vest tops to wear.’

Emma opens her bag in the lounge area and takes out two large bottles of sunscreen and after sun.

I love the priorities of both sisters but also the differences.

Emma was the one who had space for me in London when I first moved back and I bunked in with her family, including husband, Jag, and three daughters.

Behind all of Emma’s practicality is amazing amounts of heart and I felt that in spades when she took me in .

‘You know, we haven’t caught up since you moved out of mine,’ she says, as she unpacks more provisions for the kitchen, including a fully stocked medical bag.

All praise the doctor in the family. She heads for the fridge, filtering through cupboards to find two glasses, pouring us both some water from the ice machine attached to that giant fridge. ‘How’s the new place?’

‘Different. I’m slowly making it my own.’

‘I’ll come over one day to check it out.

And how are things besides that?’ she says.

Before the lovely Jag, Emma was once married to one of the biggest arseholes known to the planet.

He was an awful man but she recovered, she rebuilt.

Maybe out of all the sisters, she’s the one who knows how it feels to be in my position.

‘I’m getting there. The good days are starting to outnumber the bad ones,’ I say, honestly. ‘I got an email from his mum the other day though, he got her to do his dirty work for him.’

‘Coward,’ Emma says.

‘That’s what I thought.’ This particular email was full of condescension, lots of references to her golden boy and then a parting shot at the end about my lack of trying.

’ I didn’t reply. I’ve barely replied to any of Paul’s random emails and texts.

The fact is I held that man up to the sun and it’s like he’s doing his best to continually rain all over our relationship, cloud my opinion and turn all that light into dark.

I just don’t see how we’ll ever come back from that so I just move forward, refusing to look back.

She pulls a chair up to the solid wooden table and urges me to sit down. ‘You are a wonder, you know. I’m in awe of your strength, your cool in all of this. How you’ve started afresh and got a new job, but how is everything, really?’

I take a deep breath as she says those words.

Of course there were tears, this raw and potent mix of pure fury, sadness, shame, three months ago.

But I think those emotions are starting to ferment into something else.

It’s not even bitter anymore. It’s something that sits better in my bones now.

All I know is that running away helped. I deserved better.

‘I’m here. That’s all I know for now.’ It’s a cryptic answer to a question I’ll never really have the answer to. But she gets it. Sometimes to just still be standing is enough.

‘Well, if you ever need to process the big emotions then you know where I am.’ She pulls me in for a hug and then sits back to scan my face. ‘Little Suzuki. You’ve survived it all with more fire than I ever did. Aunty Bea would be so proud.’

I pause for a moment to hear her talk about my mum.

She passed seven years ago and these girls looked after me then too.

God, she’d have castrated Paul in his sleep.

She was a single mum and all she was made of was fire and steel.

It pains me not to have her here but to know how much of her flows through me now.

I swallow hard to process that, looking away to almost escape the emotion.

‘You’ve not called me Suzuki for a very long time,’ I say, trying to divert the conversation.