Ismael Serrano: Km.0
Essie
When last week started, I had no idea it would end in such an emotional way. It helped that I told Harry the whole story, but I felt genuinely relieved because that was the first time I allowed the thoughts to fully form inside my brain. Before I ran into Ed, I never let myself think about our relationship and all the things I did wrong.
"Hey gran?", I hadn't called her in a while, "Essie girl, is that you? I don't have my glasses on, so I didn't look at the caller ID before picking up.".
"Yes, it's me. How are you?"
"I'm alright. Oh, the weather has been divine in Madrid. You should come visit.", gran Rosa beat me to it.
"That's why I'm calling. I've got some free time and I thought I'd come see you.", my gran has been living in Spain for over twenty years. She moved to Madrid when granddad died, I was about four. However cliché it must sound for a Brit to move to Spain, she didn't want to fall under that umbrella of living in Alicante or Valencia and she went straight home. She was born in Madrid, but her family relocated to London when she was little.
"That's wonderful news darling! Is there any chance of your father joining you? I've not seen him in over a year.", that sounded like my father, neck deep in banking and no spare time to visit family and disconnect from the business world.
"I'm not sure, granny. But I'll check.", she sighed, used to this perpetual roundabout when it came to my dad.
"Okay love. I'll see you soon, then. Bye now!"
I contemplated leaving without letting anyone know, but I decided against it. I didn't want Harry to think I was running away, and I knew Becks and Ramona would fly straight to Madrid if they thought I was hiding over there. I shot everyone the same 'I'm on holiday' text and email.
The trip to Square Mile was usually long and uneventful. I didn't like visiting my dad at work, but since I booked my plane ticket for tomorrow, I was left option-less. The giant concrete structure rose from the ground and I dreaded pushing the door and entering.
"Hi Claudia. Is my father in there?", his secretary nodded and motioned for me to go in. Deep breaths. I wasn't afraid of my father; he was a genuinely nice man when he caught a moment to be an actual human being instead of a machine. We just never found a common language. He was calculated and logical, and I had a part of that logic embedded deep inside me. But I was an artist like my mom and he never got that. He never tried to understand why we chose art as our vocation. To him, it wasn't a career and it could never keep you afloat for long.
"Hi dad.", he spun around on his big office chair and looked at me puzzled.
"Estee, what are you doing here?"
"I can't stay long, but I wanted to tell you I'm travelling to Madrid tomorrow, to see Gran. She asked if you'd like to come as well, but I reckon you don't have the time?", he sighed and looked down at the stack of papers on his desk. He insisted on leaving a paper trail with everything he did and swore that he made better financial decisions for the Group when he could see the numbers in print rather than on his computer screen.
"I'm afraid it's a terrible time to take a trip to Spain, but I'll go in summer.", the same old line that he's been feeding us since the beginning of time. 'Oh, Leah I'm afraid it's a terrible time to go see your show, I'll go in the summer, though.', or 'Essie, I'm afraid I can't make it to your recital, there'll be one in the summer, right?'. 'The summer' was a metaphor for 'never' and both mom and I learned to ignore it. We only ever asked him to come to these things because we felt obligated to, we knew full well he'd never make it.
"I'll be sure to tell her that. Okay. I'm off to pack.", his phone started ringing, but he diverted his eyes from the screen for a split second, "Let's have lunch soon, alright?". Sure dad, lunch sounds lovely... maybe in the summer? I didn't say it out loud, he wouldn't find my sarcasm funny and I had no energy in me to fight with him.
Whenever I travelled to Madrid it felt like a homecoming. I've spent most of my childhood summers, the ones I was supposed to spend with dad, with my gran in Madrid. We travelled through Spain, visited the beaches of Andalucía and the stunning north. Honestly, I was kind of thankful that my dad would ship me off to gran Rosa for the whole month of June and most of August.
The girl that takes care of Bono while I travel, Mia, came early in the morning and saw me off. He was sad to see me leave and I was incredibly reluctant to leave him again so soon, but I knew that a reset was needed. There was no better setting for a brain holiday than while drinking beer and red wine at little squares in Madrid. It helped that gran was genuinely more a friend than she ever was an authority figure. Sometimes, I felt like she was the only one that saw me for who I was and accepted me fully. My entire adult life and career have felt like a festival of proving to my mom that photography is as much art as painting is and convincing my dad that I wouldn't die of hunger if I continued doing my job. Rosa was different. She didn't need me to convince her my work was what pushed me to keep living my best life. She took one look at my portfolio and she was sold. But I guess my dad experienced a certain distance from her during his life because she always did what her heart told her to, without giving it a second thought. Mark Robinson frowned with disgust at the mere thought of not thinking something through before doing it, if he didn't have a whole list of pros and cons with a separate risk assessment, he felt helpless. To an extent, I knew where his head was at. That was something I inherited, the careful planning and spreadsheets. The problem was, I'd do the risk assessments and the pros and cons but still end up going where my heart led me. I always justified it by saying that at least I was prepared for all that could go wrong, but I'd feel better knowing I did what felt right on the inside.
"Darling! Look at you! You look a lot older and mature since the last time you visited!", gran greeted me at the airport, even though I knew the way into the city like the back of my hand. It was nice to see a familiar face, though.
"Don't say that Rosa! I feel like I'm getting older, I don't need to know that I look it!", she engulfed me in a big hug, almost breaking every single one of my bones. But it felt so good and safe.
"Now tell me, why did you decide to come?"
"I haven't seen you in ages gran.", I tried weaselling my way out of it, hoping that by getting older she'd lost her ability to see through my bullshit.
"Estee Maria Robinson! You know better than to try selling me that line. What's happening?", as old as she got, she still had her wits.
"Fine. I'll tell you, but can we please crack open a bottle of wine before I spill everything?", Rosa laughed and clapped her hands in content.
The house was the same as when I last saw it, same old parquet flooring and large windows. I still stood by my claim that this was too big of a house for gran, but she didn't want to let it go. It was the first home she knew and I'm glad I was too young to recall all the strings dad had to pull to get her this same house when she decided to move back.
"You've got your wine, your olives and your jamón. Let's hear it.", I took a deep breath, hating the fact I had to relive my conversation with Harry.
"The CliffsNotes version is that I ran into my ex-boyfriend, Edward... you remember him, right?", she nodded, "We'd not seen each other in a year and I basically finally admitted to myself that I never really loved him. I liked the thought of love, but I don't think I'm capable of it.".
"You and I both know the last part is utter crap. Everybody's capable of love, it just takes a while before you grow it. But it starts within, Essie."
"You sound like Harry.", she looked at me with a big question mark above her head, "He's a recent friend. I met him on a job, and he's been the best middle ground between Becks and Ramona. Crazier than Becks but more grounded than Ramona.".
"He sounds like someone you really appreciate and need now. I'm happy you've got people like that in your life... ones that support you and lift you up. I never really liked that Edward if I'm being honest. Always thought he was too old for you and didn't have a clue on how your brain or heart operate."
"Gran, you know I've never cared that much about age. If it feels right, then it's right. This wasn't, and not because he is seven years my senior.", she scoffed.
"And this Harry person? What about him, does that feel right?"
"He's just a friend.", one of her piercing looks was directed at me, "Essie, your eyes sparkled when you said his name. It doesn't happen very often with you, and it never happened when you spoke about Ed.".
"I care for him too much to let myself mess it up by getting involved with him. I don't know how to be in a relationship, and if I'm being honest, I don't think I know how to love someone the way they need it. Harry deserves all the love in this world, he's that incredible. I can't give him that so it's better we stay friends.", that was probably the most rational I'd been about the whole Harry situation. Without sugar-coating, it was the truth. He was far too good to be my romantic partner, he deserved everything and beyond and I couldn't be that human for him.
"I think you're wrong. Like always, you'll get to that conclusion in your own pace.", Rosa rarely gave up, unless she felt you couldn't be convinced of something and she should just let you commit your own mistakes. She must've thought this was a mistake... I wish I saw it like that.
Harry
This morning I got a cryptic, automated message from Essie saying she was on holiday. She hadn't shared any plans, so I had absolutely no idea where she went. Becks called me later in the day and filled me in, Essie was in Madrid, visiting with her gran and I should let her have a few days to catch her breath. I felt odd not telling Becks why Essie needed those few days, but it wasn't my story to tell. Maybe I should've let her know I'd be okay with taking care of Bono, but in the end – she didn't ask, and I wasn't going to offer an unwanted favour.
After a long time without visiting the studio, the band was back together and slowly finding our groove. It was genuinely nice to spend time with everybody and hear what they'd been up to since we last saw each other. Mitch and Sarah were settling into their London flat; their cat was having a harder time adjusting than they were. We didn't end up writing anything, which wasn't unusual. Sometimes, melodies and lyrics come to you and other times they remain hidden. They're always there, living inside you... it just takes a bit of soul-searching to lure them out.
My phone felt like it was on fire the entire day, it rested in my pocket or on top of the table and I swear I could see it releasing energy, trying to trick me to call Essie. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about her state of mind, but the fact she was with her gran calmed me. Well into the night, I opened WhatsApp and noticed she was online. Aware that Becks instructed me not to call her, I did it anyway.
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A/N: you guys know it's not a story by Teacup96 if it doesn't have some sort of connection to Madrid. It's what makes it authentic, for me. Hope you like this chapter and some truths that finally see the light of day.
TPWK, always.
T