Page 13

FOUR

Suzie

So despite the sex villa that we seem to find ourselves in, and Emma and Meg dousing a lot of the contents of the house in disinfectant and insisting we boil-wash all the linens, there is already something quite magical about being here in Mallorca.

The villa is in a gorgeous position and my room overlooks towering cypress trees, fields of almond blossom, little white buildings like polka dots on the landscape.

There are no clouds, not even a sliver of white in the sky.

And Lucy may be right. It feels good to just stand on the balcony wearing very little and feel that heat, that sun on my skin, to stretch my arms above my head and just let everything go.

Despite everything that’s changed in the last months, I am here, I am alive, I’m going to have a killer tan when I leave and my bed rotates, which will be an interesting experience. I hope I don’t get too dizzy.

When the disinfecting was done, we left the villa after Meg conned Danny into buying us a meal to make up for his booking gaffe, so we’ve indulged in a feast of tapas, steak and bottles of smooth Rioja at a beautiful spot near the beach.

‘Una botella màs por favor,’ I ask the waiter, who bows his head, smiling.

I’ve lost count of the number of bottles we’ve had so far tonight but the waiting staff in their white shorts and matching polos don’t seem to mind as it’s going to considerably add to their profits.

Flamenco music is piped tastefully throughout, fairy lights and vines hang off the rafters off this outdoor space and a cool breeze takes the edge off the humidity.

It’s just a hundred yards from the beach, where I can see the inky sea meet the sky, punctuated by lines of rocks.

After a day of travelling and surprises, it feels like the perfect end to this evening, and it warms my heart to see all the sisters dressed up, glasses in hand, laughing over age-old anecdotes and banter.

I curl my feet up in my rattan chair, holding a glass to my lips.

‘I am still sleeping on a sun lounger. I’ll drag it in the house if I have to,’ Emma says, as the evening winds to an end and she feasts on the glorious Balearic cheeseboard in front of us.

‘But you made us boil-wash everything,’ Beth says, her feet dangling from her chair, cradling her glass. ‘I can’t believe you made us do chores on holiday.’

‘Plus, the chances are, in a house like that, they’ve had sex on the sun loungers too. Kitchen table, bath…nowhere will be safe. Not even the floor if you think about it,’ Lucy tells her.

The sisters all laugh as Emma flares her nostrils.

‘The rental car will be safe,’ Meg explains with a grin.

‘You could sleep in there. I could disable the alarm.’ Even though Meg was furious earlier today, you could hear her argument with Danny descend into laughter, into a space where the anger couldn’t exist anymore, and I thought it a wonderful thing.

That’s relationship goals if ever I saw them.

She now sits there, her hair tousled, with dangly earrings and a patterned maxi dress, and it’s a joy to see her smile so broadly and appear so relaxed.

‘Can I just say though? I love this. I was quite unsure what I wanted to do for my fortieth but this…this here…this is perfect.’

There’s a momentary silence, and I lean back and let the ambience wash over me.

This is pretty perfect and I feel honoured but incredibly lucky that I’ve been let into their circle, that with all that’s happened this year, I have had family reach out and invite me into their fold.

I rest my head on Lucy’s shoulder and she kisses my forehead.

‘But…’ Lucy interrupts. ‘Your actual birthday isn’t until two days’ time, so we have time to plan, put an itinerary in place.

’ There’s a twinkle in her eyes that matches the very cheeky two piece she wears that leaves little to the imagination.

I keep seeing the waiting staff angle themselves to get a decent look.

‘Because, this is lovely and everything, but we are having fun too, yes?’

Meg looks at her curiously. ‘We have very different definitions of fun.’

‘Party catamaran?’ Lucy asks.

‘No,’ Meg replies.

‘They have a nineties one that plays all your old-lady club classics. I’ve seen the pictures. There are people your age, in case you thought it was all young people.’

Meg doesn’t reply.

‘Cliff jumping?’ Lucy suggests. ‘How about a euphoric dance experience in the mountains?’

Grace puts a hand on hers to indicate she needs to stop talking.

‘I could be down with that. What is euphoric dance?’ I ask curiously, sitting up.

‘I knew I could count on you, Suze. It’s freeform dance where there are no steps. It’s like a form of meditation.’

‘I can do that in our villa with a Bluetooth speaker,’ Meg argues, frowning. ‘I don’t want to dance around a load of people I don’t know .

‘I haven’t come here to do days of staying in the villa, eating patatas bravas and drinking sangria, you know?’ Lucy says, grumpily.

Emma puts her hand in the air to let us know she’s come here to do exactly that.

‘But seriously, you’re forty,’ Lucy continues.

Meg wrinkles her nose to hear her enunciate the forty so clearly.

‘No kids, no husbands. If there was ever a time to tick something off your bucket list then this is it. Come on, there must be something you want to have a go at. Something that involves an element of risk.’

‘That villa is a health risk,’ Meg says, saluting her. ‘Luis over there also told us this cheese is made with raw milk. That’s risky enough for me,’ she says, popping a bit in her mouth with a slice of fig.

Lucy does not look impressed with her. ‘Come on, the Meg I knew, in her twenties, would hate this, you know? Beth tells me you used to have one-night stands, you’d host legendary London parties. That story where you turned a night bus into a nightclub from Oxford Circus to Hackney…’

Meg stares her down. ‘Lucy, you better not be suggesting I have a holiday fling.’

‘No. I’m just telling you to have fun, live a little. I don’t think you’re brave enough anymore. I dare you.’

I watch this strange stand-off between the sisters. It’s triggered something in Meg, who has enough alcohol in her system to be insulted by this comment but also rise to the challenge.

‘You dare me?’ she says, taking a large sip of wine.

‘Yeah…’ Lucy says immaturely, and I can see her mind whirring. She looks towards the sea. ‘Right. All of us now. Let’s go skinny dipping.’

Beth chokes a little on her wine. ‘Hold up now, this was between the two of you. Why have the rest of us got dragged into this? ’

Emma shakes her head whereas I look out at the sea, the twinkle of fishing boats drifting about, the moon shining brightly, illuminating the crests of the waves.

There’s a little part of me that knows that’s how most shark attack movies start, but I quite like the idea of the coolness of the water, running with the sand between my toes, doing something out of my comfort zone. I put a hand in the air. ‘I’m in.’

Lucy high-fives that hand. ‘The cousin has spoken. Look how brave and magnificent she is.’

‘She’s got nice little boobs that don’t need a bra,’ Beth says, gesturing towards me.

‘And you’ve got nice big ones that will keep you afloat,’ Lucy says frankly.

‘Well, I will be the voice of dissent and say it’s illegal, there’s the likelihood of all sorts: sharks, jellyfish, flotsam…’ Emma lists.

‘Flotsam…?’ Grace says, trying to stifle her laughter, fanning herself with a napkin. ‘I’m in, I’m bloody melting in any case.’

Meg still maintains eye contact with her sister who won’t stand down. ‘If I do this then none of your stupid euphoric wellness dancing and party boats.’

‘It was a catamaran.’

‘Same thing.’

‘No, it isn’t.’

There’s a moment of silence then Meg downs the last of her wine and claps her hands before rubbing them together. She raises her hand. ‘Luis, la cuenta, por favor.’ Luis nods in reply. ‘We’re going swimming.’

‘EMMA! Look at you with your shaved foofoo!’ Lucy announces to the shore as Emma charges at her to shut her mouth. ‘Who’s going to hear me? The fish?’ Lucy tells her.

We’re all drunk and, it would seem, naked.

I’m not sure when I was last naked with these girls, but I think it may have been in the late nineties one summer’s day when some of us were little and running through sprinklers in swimming costumes and jelly shoes.

Now we’ve found this quiet little cove, dotted with rocks, the buzz of lights from resorts and buildings in the distance.

Is this legal? Who knows? But nothing has changed, the humour, the joy is still there.

‘Oh my god, don’t make me laugh. I’m going to piss myself,’ Beth whispers drunkenly.

‘Save it for the sea,’ Grace tells her.

Well, maybe something has changed – our bodies have changed and evolved – but I love how the mums in the group have been encouraged to not care, to run wildly across the sand and jump into the spray, fuelled by freedom and Rioja.

‘You good, cuz?’ Lucy asks me, as I watch Emma folding her knickers and placing them on her dress, stumbling towards the water with Meg, cackling as they go.

I look out onto the sea and up at the stars, stretching my arms into the air. I’ve never felt readier. I pull down my knickers and out of sheer drunkenness, lunge and get ready to swim, Lucy joining me as she pings off her thong.

‘I’ve never seen your arse up close and…girl, I’d kill for that,’ she says, peering round. She puts her hand out. ‘You look pensive. You’re not thinking about Paul, are you?’

‘I wasn’t,’ I say defensively. I realise as I say it – the whole evening, Paul’s not even crossed my mind, and that is the beauty of being here with these girls.

‘Is he lingering, like a bad smell?’ she asks, analytically. I laugh under my breath as sometimes that’s exactly how it feels, how he wafts in and out of my mind.