The Longest Holiday (29 page)

‘My mother’s parents died when I was young, and my father’s parents, well, they didn’t know Alejandro and I existed. Or, if they did, they had to pretend that they didn’t.’ He smiles a small smile and meets my eyes.

Then, suddenly, I see him as Evan. A boy without a father; at least, a boy without a father who would acknowledge his existence to the rest of the world. Matthew isn’t like Leo’s dad. He’s doing the right thing, I know that. It may not be the right thing for me, but it’s the right thing for that little boy, who, as my mother said, is the innocent party in all of this.

Somehow, I’ve been caught in the middle. But, really, what do I matter when there’s a child at stake?

I squeeze my eyes shut and then, to my dismay, I start to cry. Leo takes me in his arms, and even if I’m losing him, even if I’m scaring him off, I feel grateful to have him in my life at this moment.

A loud pounding at my door startles us both. ‘Come in,’ I call.

Carmen pushes the door open. ‘You have a visitor,’ she says with concern as she notices the state of me. Standing behind her, in the corridor, is my mother.

‘Mum,’ I say, breaking away from Leo to stand up. I brush away my tears and he looks awkward as he slowly gets to his feet.

‘I’ll leave you alone,’ he says, following Carmen as she backs out of the room.

‘No, don’t go yet,’ I say. He hesitates. ‘Mum, this is Leo.’

‘Hello,’ she says disapprovingly, not holding out her hand for him to shake.

He nods at her, his features hardening. ‘I’ll see you later,’ he says to me with meaning, shutting the door behind him.

I didn’t think it was possible to feel any more miserable.

‘I’m sorry,’ Mum says, and I try to focus on what she’s saying. ‘I didn’t realise that it would hurt you so much.’

‘Well, it did,’ I say, fighting back a fresh onslaught of tears.

‘If I had known …’

Her voice trails off, and I don’t ask her to finish her sentence, because I’m not sure I want to hear her lie, or try to convince herself that she wouldn’t have wanted to get to know her almost-grandson.

‘Have Matthew’s parents seen much of him?’ I ask. She looks away. ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ She fidgets with her wedding ring. ‘What about his brothers and sister?’ Her eyes flicker towards mine. ‘Another yes,’ I say dully. ‘You know, you could have been nicer to Leo,’ I add drily.

‘I was perfectly fine with him,’ she bats back defensively.

‘No, you weren’t.’ She shifts uneasily and I probably should leave it at that, but I can’t. ‘I’m in love with him, you know.’

‘You’re not,’ she says, brushing me off.

‘I am,’ I say firmly. ‘I love him.’ How I want to add ‘and he loves me’, but I can’t. ‘So you’d better be nice to him,’ I warn.

It’s a relief when Mum gets back on a plane again. She’s disappointed to be travelling home without me. I wonder who they’ll think of sending next. I promise I’ll be home in less than three weeks, anyway, because I’ve almost reached the end of my permitted ninety-day stay without a visa. This seems to placate her. They’ll all probably construct a plan to tie me to a bed or lock me in a room so I can’t leave once I’m back in the UK again. It’s my dad’s sixtieth birthday in just over a month, so I know I’ll have to stay at least until those celebrations are done and dusted.

When I get back to the house after the airport run, Carmen and Eric are packing up their things.

‘Are they really going?’ I ask Jorge with surprise.

‘Looks like it.’

‘When?’

‘This weekend.’

‘That soon?’

‘Eric’s going by yacht; Carmen is meeting him there with their things,’ he explains.

‘Pretty soon, it’ll be just you, me and Leo, as they’re taking Max with them,’ he says with a cheeky grin.

‘Not for long. I’ve got to go home in less than three weeks.’

‘The marriage offer is still there,’ he jokes, and I smile at him. ‘Aah, but first you have to get divorced,’ he adds.

‘Yes,’ I say firmly, and I’m filled with dread. I really don’t want to go home.

We all have a beer with Eric the night before he leaves, and then it’s Carmen’s turn.

‘So what are you going to do, Leonardo? Will we be seeing you in Miami at the end of the summer?’

It’s a pertinent question, and not one that I’ve been comfortable asking ever since our argument.

‘Maybe. Maybe not,’ he says, looking over his shoulder at the house. ‘I haven’t decided yet.’

‘Do you reckon it could make a good guest house?’ Carmen asks, pursing her lips as she gazes up at the big old house.

‘Maybe. Maybe not,’ Leo replies, and my heart skips a beat. He pats my knee and I glance up to see him smiling.

Carmen watches us with eagle eyes.

Later she comes into the bathroom while I’m brushing my teeth.

‘Sorry, I’ll be out of your way in a minute,’ I say through a mouthful of toothpaste. She closes the door. I rinse out my mouth and regard her warily. When it comes to Carmen closing doors, it doesn’t usually work out well.

‘If you break his heart I will hunt you down and kill you,’ she warns, rendering me speechless. What planet is she on? Hasn’t she seen the effect he has on me?

‘It’s far more likely that he’ll break my heart!’ I exclaim.

She shakes her head miserably. ‘If you think that, then you don’t know Leo.’

Much as Carmen drove me around the bend at times, the house feels empty without her. It’s early August and the summer season is pretty much over. Javier has moved on up the keys, and Jorge is gearing up to head back to Miami until the next holiday season. I book my ticket home with a heavy heart.

‘Have you decided what to do?’ I ask Leo the night before I’m due to leave.

He shakes his head. ‘I’ll go back to Miami for a bit, see where that takes me.’

I hate hearing this.

‘Promise me you’ll stay away from Ashlee,’ I beg.

He tuts and rolls his eyes at me. ‘You don’t need to worry about her.’

‘Stay away from everyone else, then,’ I warn and he runs his fingers up and down my spine, making me shiver. ‘Ooh, that tickles.’ I squirm. ‘Won’t you just stay here and keep the bed warm for me until I return?’

He strokes my forehead. ‘I don’t want to be in this house without you.’

‘I’d rather you were here than in Miami,’ I say dejectedly.

The next morning, Jorge, Leo and I shut up the house. We close the pale blue shutters and clear out the fridge and freezer. I do one final clean, hoping the house will remind Leo of me the next time he visits. Maybe I’ll be with him.

He drives me to the airport, but I ask him not to come in.

‘I hate long goodbyes,’ I tell him. Jorge has driven separately. He has an apartment in the same block as Leo, and I’m glad they’ll have each other for company. Anything other than the female kind.

I lean across and hug Leo tightly, breathing in his scent while I have the chance.

‘Will you write to me?’ I ask, pulling away to look searchingly into his eyes.

‘I’m not good at letters.’

‘Email?’

‘I can’t type.’

‘Leo, for God’s sake. We’ll talk on the phone, then, okay?’

‘I’m not very good on the phone, either.’ He smiles at me.

‘Tough!’ I exclaim. ‘My number in is your contacts under Laura.’ No surname. I programmed it in myself. ‘You’re talking to me on the phone, and that’s it.’

‘If that’s what you want.’

‘Of course it’s what I want. I don’t want to leave at all,’ I grumpily remind him.

He climbs out of the car and retrieves my suitcase from the boot. We stand on the pavement outside Departures and face each other. He still reminds me of a film star, standing there with his hands in his pockets as he gazes down at me. Perhaps I shouldn’t say it, because he won’t say it back, but it’s not like me to keep quiet. I reach up and stroke the tips of my fingers across his tanned bicep before letting my hand drop.

‘I love you,’ I tell him solemnly.

He flinches. I thought he might, but it still hurts. ‘You know they’re going to expect you to work things out with Matthew.’ He doesn’t comment on my declaration.

‘I don’t care. That’s not going to happen.’

‘If it does …’

‘It won’t happen!’ I try to convince him.

‘If it does, then I understand.’

I feel stung. I don’t want him to understand. I want him to fight for me.

‘Do you want me to work things out with him?’ I ask unhappily.

‘Of course not.’ He brushes me off. ‘I’m just trying to be decent.’

‘Oh. Alright. Well, don’t try to be decent, okay? I’m coming back to you.’

He nods and gives me a small smile.

I stand up on tiptoes and kiss his lips. He kisses me slowly and then takes his hands out of his pockets to hold me tightly in his arms.

‘Bye.’ I pull away and take my suitcase by the handle.

‘Bye,’ he says.

I turn and walk into the airport, looking back once to meet his eyes. He nods at me, curtly, and then climbs into the car.

A dark and horrible feeling overcomes me. Why do I suddenly feel like that was the last time I will ever see him?

I think I cry more on the return journey than I did on the way there.

Matthew is waiting for me at the airport. He told me he’d come; I asked him not to; he ignored me. And much as I believe I’m returning to finalise the death of our relationship, I can’t help feeling glad to see a familiar face.

It’s a warm and sunny afternoon in London, and this surprises me. Expecting to come back to rain and misery, I hadn’t prepared myself for England in all its summer gloriousness.

We barely speak in the hour and a half it takes us to get to our two-bedroomed apartment in Battersea, and the car is fraught with tension. I know Matthew is biting his tongue, trying not to give me the Spanish Inquisition, but he’s not happy. I’m surprised he came to the airport at all. Perhaps his window for forgiveness, as my mum liked to call it, is still open a notch. He’ll close it before long. It’s for the best.

Our apartment smells strange. Very, very familiar, yet very, very odd. I look around. He’s tidied up, but man-style. Nothing is properly clean or in the correct place, but I can tell he’s made an effort.

My old computer is sitting on the kitchen table, and it’s plugged in. You would never have thought I’d been away for almost three months.

I decide to keep my new MacBook in my bedroom – I’m relegating myself to the spare room for the immediate future.

‘Do you want a tea?’ he asks. ‘Something to eat?’

‘I’m not very hungry,’ I reply uneasily. It’s so strange being back.

‘I’ll make you a toastie?’ he suggests and I glance at him. He gives me a hopeful smile and I can’t help but soften.

‘Go on, then.’

‘So was it hard leaving?’ he asks casually as he gets on with the job.

‘You want my honest answer?’

‘Um …’

‘It was hard leaving, yes,’ I tell him gently, refraining from spelling out just how heartbreaking it actually was. ‘How’s Evan?’ I ask, changing the subject.

‘He’s good.’ He smiles.

‘Have you got any more photos?’

‘Yeah.’

He comes over to me and shows me the pictures on his phone.

‘He’s grown!’ I exclaim. But babies do tend to do that, of course.

‘I was wondering …’ he starts, and I immediately tense up at his tone. ‘I was wondering if you’d like to see him this wee—’

‘No,’ I cut him off. ‘No.’ I shake my head firmly and he looks resigned.

‘Okay, well, maybe not yet.’

I leave it be. I doubt I’ll ever be ready.

I return to work the next day and, again, it feels surreal and extremely unfamiliar to walk back into the office where I’ve spent so many of my waking hours for the best part of three years. Becky jumps up from her desk and hurries over to greet me.

‘It’s so good to see you!’ she cries, stopping short of throwing her arms around my neck because we weren’t that close. I’m her boss, after all.

‘It’s good to see you, too.’ I grin and put my bag down on the carpet. ‘You look well.’ I smile at her blonde curls. She normally wears her hair up in a ponytail or a high bun, but now it’s down. It softens her face and she looks very pretty. In fact, she’s lost weight. ‘You look amazing, actually,’ I say with surprise. She was quite rotund when I left.

‘Paul McKenna,’ she tells me with a grin. ‘Genius weight-loss book.’

‘Really?’ I ask with interest.

‘Yeah, it’s brilliant. It’s total common sense. You eat when you’re hungry and stop when you’re full …’ I listen as she rabbits on, pleased to see that her enthusiasm is still very much intact in every arena of her life.

‘You look fantastic, too,’ she says after a while.

‘Oh, thanks.’ I smile with embarrassment and glance at my arms. They’re more tanned than they’ve ever been.

‘Did you have an amazing time? Well, you must’ve had, otherwise you wouldn’t have stayed there for so long.’

‘It was good, yes …’

The phone rings, breaking up our conversation. Becky answers.

‘Can I ask who’s calling?’ she says into the mouthpiece. ‘Okay, I’ll see if she’s available.’

She puts the person on hold and then turns to me. ‘It’s someone called Tessa. Do you think it’s her? She said it’s personal.’

Tessa? What the hell is she doing calling me? And at work? Curiosity gets the better of me. I tell Becky I’ll take the call in my office.

I close the door behind me and she puts the call through.

‘Hello?’ I say hesitantly, my heart in my throat.

‘Laura?’

She sounds young.

‘Yes.’

I probably sound old and weathered.

‘It’s Tessa.’

I say nothing.

‘I’m sorry,’ she continues quickly. ‘I know you probably don’t ever want to speak to me, or see me, or anything, but, well, I just wanted to call you. I wanted to apologise. For everything.’

I let out the breath I didn’t realise I was holding.

‘Are you there?’ she asks.

‘Yes.’ I can barely speak.

‘I was just wondering … Is there any way we could catch up? Maybe this weekend? I’d really like to meet you. Evan is … Well, Evan is going to be a part of your life and I’d really like him to see you, too.’

What am I supposed to say to that?