“How was that?” he asked.
“Okay actually. Although it’s not over yet.” Reserving her final judgement until they were on terra firma.
“Maybe not, but that’s the worst bit done and dusted.”
A faint realisation registering in her mind that she might actually do this. Yeah why not? She was gonna smash this shit.
The flight itself was pretty uneventful. Eliza looking around the sky, pointing at other planes that went alongside or above them. Even looking down at the Mediterranean Sea and the little white smattering of froth from the peaks of waves that she could see so clearly.
Jonny psyched her up for the landing, and even though she set her fingers firmly around the arms of the chair she still managed to keep her eyes open. Initially more out of alarm than anything. It was a little like watching a horror movie. Bad if you look, worse if you don’t.
He was so pumped when he landed them all safely at the Ibizan airport. Everyone onboard sharing the joy of his achievement, although they thought it was all about him flying, when really his proudest moment was reserved for Eliza’s seeming success in conquering her fear of flying.
Jonny halted at the top of the plane steps and breathed in the warm air. It was like fresh bread, or coffee in the morning. Impossible to not fill his lungs with a hit of it.
They were picked up in two taxis and taken to Villa Solimar. The first time his family had seen their little villa.
His mother burst into tears.
“What’s wrong?” Jonny took her in his arms. The assault of the fabric conditioner she over-doused on the washing taking him back to when he was a young boy. Scurrying around in the back yard. Rushing in and out of the washing. The bedsheets that nearly touched the floor until they were lifted by the pole his mother balanced underneath the clothes line. The wind catching them and billowing them up into the sky. The smell of that fabric conditioner. His mother. The woman who organised life at home like clockwork. Juggling that and her day job. Nurturing him in a way that this one hug, suddenly made him appreciate.
“What’s up?” he asked softly.
“I’m just so happy.” she blubbered.
Jonny’s dad took over from Jonny. Putting his arm around her and laughing. “Come on Shirley. Don’t be daft.”
She started laughing. Crying and laughing at the same time. Snotting, crying and laughing.
“Ooh.” She fanned her face with her hand. “What am I like.”
Eliza looked in the fridge. Empty. “What’s the plan, Jonny?”
Realising that she was referring to the lack of hospitality their guests were about to endure. He made something up.
“Why don’t we get the hotel to send a couple of cars across. Get everyone checked in to their rooms and have lunch on the verandah there?”
Eliza nodded. Already on the phone to the hotel.
Jonny showed his family around the villa whilst they waited for the cars.
“They’ve only got one car.” Eliza announced. “We’ll have to go in two journeys.”
“No it’s okay.” Jonny’s dad announced. “Us fellas can walk. It’s not that far is it?”
“No, just down the hill.”
“Fair enough.” Jonny’s grandad seemed up for it.
The men folk wandered off, leaving the suitcases in the driveway. Eliza locked the villa and they waited, sat on the cases, for the car to arrive.
“So what are the arrangements for tomorrow then?” asked Jonny’s mother.
“Jonny’s going to the hotel first thing and then Leesa is coming to help me get ready here.”
“Oh, is Jonny not staying away tonight?”
“No.”
“It’s traditional for the groom not to see the bride on the morning of the wedding.”
Eliza just smiled sweetly. “We’re not really into traditions that much. Although we’re doing a wedding box.”
“What’s that?”
“We write each other a letter and put it into a box. Then, if ever we are having problems in our relationship, we get out the letters and read them. To remind us both why we fell in love and how we feel right now about each other.”
“Aww, that’s lovely.” Jonny’s grandma seemed taken with the idea.
“What are you having done to your hair Eliza?”
“Nothing fancy. I’m going to the commune later this afternoon. You know where Jonny and I stayed last year? They’ve hand crafted a hair vine for me to wear.”
“Hair vine?”
“Yeah its fine wire, threaded with local pearls and will hold some fresh flowers that I’m having dropped off in the morning. The idea is you can’t see the wire, just the jewels and flowers.”
“Sounds lovely, my dear. In my day you had to have your wedding dress hand made. Usually from hand me downs, adjusted to fit. It went in your bottom drawer along with the little baby things you collected. Hoping it would bring the stork to you nine months after your wedding day.”
Eliza lightly squeezed her small bony hand. Wishing her mother and grandmother were here with her now.
“I’m actually wearing my mother’s wedding dress.”
“Are you?” Jonny’s mother was startled. “What about that lovely dress we picked out?”
Eliza just patted her stomach in response.
“Of course. So have you had to have your mother’s dress altered then?”
“No…” Eliza gulped on her words. “She was pregnant with me when she got married.
“Oh, bless you.” Shirley’s eyes misting over. She knew about Eliza being an orphan, of course. And being as emotional as she was right now, she could feel herself falling over the edge again. The thought of Eliza’s mother not seeing her daughter on her wedding day was just too much to bear.
Shirley’s daughter, Jonny’s sister, was married now and on her wedding day it felt as much like Shirley’s day as it was her daughter’s. Eliza’s mother not having that life experience was not right.
Now her baby boy was tying the knot and it made her feel quite unsettled. A massive change in the status quo. Handing him over, to now the most significant woman in his life.
They all arrived at the hotel pretty much at the same time. Eliza’s aunt and uncle had just been dropped off by the airport taxi too. It was the first time both sets of families had all met.
The men hovered around the reception desk whilst the women went to sit at the occasional tables in the foyer.
Eliza’s aunt eased into a seat, sliding through the gap between the table and the chair. She waited patiently until her husband came over and offered her the drinks menu, choosing a glass of iced tea.
Jonny’s mum pulled out a chair for Jonny’s grandmother to sit in. Near the open window where the breeze was blowing through from the sea. She then plumped onto the chair next to her, momentarily lifting herself and the chair up to drag it closer to Eliza’s aunt.
“I’ve been dying to meet you Mila. Eliza’s told me all about how you brought her up.” She laid her arm on Mila’s arm. “Lovely gesture.”
Mila smiled and nodded demurely, her husband coming back across to introduce himself.
“Koenraad.” Eliza’s uncle held out his hand. Shirley shook it then turned in her seat to locate her husband. Hollering over at him, “Chris. Chris. Come and meet Mila and Conrad.”
“Koenraad.” Eliza’s uncle repeated. Shirley turned back to the couple and just looked at him quizzically, as if to say “that’s what I said.”
“Nice to meet you both.” Chris leaned in and shook their hands. His father following close behind.
Jonny stood next to Eliza waiting for his parents to finish their greetings. “Shall we go through to the verandah; they’ve reserved a table for us there.”
All the guests were staying at this hotel, arranged months ago by Eliza. The family would have lunch together before Eliza and Leesa sloped off to the commune to pick up the hair vine, and Jonny went with some of the men to a local bar.
They ordered
off the Menú del Día, one of five meals a day Spaniards would typically eat, Jonny advised. No-one believing him. He brought the waiter into the conversation, who confirmed Jonny’s random fact. Although justifying it slightly with an explanation of how three courses would only be served at lunchtime, and the other meals more snacks.
“I’ll have to go to sleep after all this food,” his mother announced.
“Yes, me too,” his grandma agreed.
“Yeah, and the rest of Spain.” Jonny advised, “Everyone does it. It’s called siesta.”
They all nodded, with their mouths open. It was as if they knew when really they didn’t.
Jonny’s family had never been abroad before. Well only his grandad, and that was in the war, so that didn’t really count. What he’d seen and experienced during those dark years could never be described as a proper representation of Europe.
He hoped they loved it enough to come again, although he could sense his mother was a little apprehensive about it all. She was a woman of creature comforts, insisting that they repeat experiences that they were familiar with.
Always holidaying in Southend on Sea; celebrating anniversaries at the Italian on Fulham High Street, where she would always have lasagne and her husband, Gammon and Egg.
You couldn’t describe them as an adventurous family. They knew what they liked; liked what they knew.
The conversation, aptly centred around Eliza and Jonny. Jonny’s mother citing all of the achievements Jonny had made growing up, most of which he didn’t even remember and was half convinced weren’t even true. Eliza’s aunt volleying back with stories of Eliza.
They were the common link. The only commonality between the two families at this stage.
Jonny and Eliza sat back, watching the relationships develop. The little test of authenticity here; the prod of realism there. Peeling back the initial layers of formality and positioning.
They glanced at each other, hands reaching out, fingertips barely touching.
Wondering if they could probably sneak away and not be noticed.
Go for a walk on the beach. A swim in the sea.
The last few weeks had been manic, all the stuff with the band and the house and the wedding and the pregnancy.
Now they were here, their big day approaching, they wanted to just take a moment.
Be together.
Alone.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“On this day,
I give my whole self to you,
My love,
My body,
My promise,
That I will walk with you,
Hand in hand,
Wherever our journey leads us,
Living, loving, laughing,
Together,
For all time.”
Underneath the archway, interwoven with the bright pink bougainvillea, native to the island, they exchanged rings and sealed their promises with a never ending kiss and an unblinking stare through the portals to each other’s souls.
The small audience clapped and cheered, bringing them back to the here and now.
They each placed their letters into a small intricately carved wooden box. Eliza’s aunt wrapped a thick ribbon around it and her husband used a stone from the beach to hammer in two tacks as a seal.
They posed for some photos. Eliza’s uncle taking on the role of photographer for the day. His artistic eye an asset in such a situation. Jonny and Eliza were guarded about the photographs; wanting ultimate control of any taken. They were not looking to commercialise any aspect of their special day.
Eliza threw her simple hand tied bouquet over her head and back into the crowd. Jim Bob rushed forward at the same time as Dirk’s girlfriend, Tammy. She barged Jim Bob out of the way and caught it, squealing with delight.
Tammy ignored Dirk’s horrified reaction and flung her arms around his neck, swiftly followed by her legs wrapping around his waist. Caught by surprise he fell backwards. The pair of them landing on the soft sand. Everyone laughing and cheering.
Jonny’s mother remained at the side of her son after the obligatory family photograph “Oh I’m so happy for you both. I’m sure I’m happier than I was at my own wedding.” Looking back at her long suffering husband, Chris.
“Don’t say that,” said Eliza.
“I know, it was just so long ago,” she laughed.
“I’m sorry that you couldn’t wear the wedding dress we picked out, but you do look absolutely beautiful Eliza.” Rubbing her hand around in large circles on her daughter in law’s belly. “And I’m sure Missy in their thinks so too.”
“Thank you. I can’t believe how perfectly it fits.”
Jonny put his arm around her waist, squashing her belly into his. “I love you, Mrs Harrison.”
She put her hands up to his face and her mouth onto his.
His mother coughed away her embarrassment before moving away.
“Oh.” Eliza broke their kiss. “About this Mrs Harrison thing.”
Jonny lifted one eyebrow up.
“I’m only joking,” she laughed.
The flotilla of rowing boats took them all back to the two hundred foot yacht that was moored up out in the cove. Fairy lights strung up from the mast and along the port and starboard of the yacht.
Jonny and Eliza’s boat was in the lead, decked out with flowers. The oars calmly lapping at the bright blue sea, tranquil as ever, in their little cove.
The flamenco music started up as they boarded the yacht. Bottles of Cava already on ice, a glass offered to each of the wedding party as they stepped onto teak deck.
They were shown up to the canopied area of the upper deck. A buffet laid out for them all to indulge in. The Spanish guitar duo playing “Romance Anonimo”.
Jonny’s father made a speech. Telling stories of misadventure from Jonny’s childhood. Everyone laughing at the anecdotes, most of which were over embellished and at Jonny’s expense. He took it in good humour. After all Eliza was his wife now and a few remiss stories and revelations weren’t going to change that.
All of the Dutch guests took it in turn to say a word that described the newlyweds, beginning with each of the letters of their first names. The challenge taken up in Dutch, making it impossible for Jonny and his family to understand. They watched on politely until the game finished.
Finally, the guitar playing started up again. Jonny and Kurt watching avidly, dying to get involved, but knowing that the duo’s style of play was way out of their comfort zone.
“New idea for a song, though.” Jonny tipped a salute to Kurt.
“Yeah. I hear you man.”
The pair of them itching to go off and work something up. Frustrated that they couldn’t.
The party went on until the early hours, finally the yacht setting sail to drop Jonny and Eliza off first and then the rest of the wedding attendees at their hotel.
“Are you sure you’re ok to walk up the hill home?” Jonny asked concerned that his wife wouldn’t make it.
“Yes of course. I’m fine. You’re the one that’s drunk.”
“I’m not drunk. I’m just a bit merry.”
He grabbed her hand.
“I’ll carry you up,” he threatened.
“Erm no you won’t.”
“I was going to organise for some donkeys to take us, but didn’t think you would appreciate that.”
“Yes, you thought right.”
“Or a wheelbarrow. You know like the one I used to take all of our stuff from the commune to the market.”
“That’s a horrendous thing to suggest. Especially if someone tool a photo of it.”
“We did well really, didn’t we? Keeping this a secret.”
He couldn’t believe that they had managed to marry without the unwelcome interference of the paparazzi. They’d thrown them all off the scent with a fake report, leaked by Jim Bob, of them already marrying in secret in Holland. They’d lapped it up, printing photos of the supposed chapel, the hotel that they’d stayed
in, the wedding cake that they had eaten. The lot. Suckers.
“Yes, we’ve done well keeping everything a secret just lately.”
The papers knew Eliza was pregnant. That had pretty much been printed length and breadth of Europe the day after their house warming party. Not that it mattered. The people they cared about most found out first.
Eliza halted, holding onto a wall and breathing heavily. “Let’s just stop a minute Jonny. I need to catch my breath.”
They stopped and looked back at the sea below. The moonlight twinkling off the tips of the waves. Their party yacht sailing around the cove with all their precious family on board.
“It was just perfect wasn’t it?”
“Yes, perfect just like you. You okay to carry on now?”
They walked the last one hundred metres and let themselves into the gate. Without warning he swept her up into his arms.
She let out a little scream. Flinging her arms around his neck for security.
“I might not have carried you up that hill, but I’m sure as hell gonna carry you over our threshold Mrs Harrison.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jonny dipped his foot into the water, fumbling for the drinks holder in the side of his air bed to stow away his can of Coke. He could lift his head to see where it was, but that would be too much effort. Floating around with the full heat of the sun on his body was too heavenly for effort.
They were enjoying the last hour of newly wed solitude before they went back to England and his family.
Eliza was resting in the shade complaining of a headache, the heat no place to be for an eight month pregnant woman. She had packed their bags the night before, ready to make their way home sooner than Jonny was.
“I have to wait until the main flights have departed,” he had said. “It’s better if we take off in the middle of the day, we’ll miss all the tea time road traffic at the other side then too.” She’d accepted it. Knowing that he was probably right.
“I’m going to lie down inside. My legs are a bit swollen with all this heat.” She traipsed off into the villa.
Loving his ANGEL_A Rock Star Romance Page 23
