Chapter 42
Back at the house, Mark insists on cutting the slices of galatoboureko into bite-sized cubes.
‘You know what people are like. Everyone’s too embarrassed to take a whole slice.’ He pops a piece in his mouth. ‘Fuck, this is incredible.’
He takes a cube between his thumb and forefinger and holds it out for me. I eat it from his hand, and then he licks his fingers in a very distracting way.
‘Delicious, right?’
I nod, savouring the syrupy filo and the cool patisserie cream.
‘When I was in the army, the cook used to make us this on our name day.’ He smiles at the memory. ‘He’d always make me two – one on St Mark’s Day and one on St Antony’s. He was a good guy.’
‘It sounds like you enjoyed your time there?’
‘Yeah, I did.’
‘It’s funny, I wouldn’t have thought it was a natural fit for you. You hated authority and yet you go and spend two years where your sole activity is to follow orders.’
‘I didn’t know what I was doing with my life. My grades were average, but I didn’t care about school. I only cared about …’
‘The three Fs?’ I finish for him.
He smiles wryly. ‘The army was your dad’s suggestion.’
I’m taken aback. ‘Really? My dad?’
‘Yeah, he said it had done him the world of good and that he thought it was what I needed. Structure, a purpose, all that stuff. He was right.’
‘I had no idea.’ I frown. ‘I’m amazed that you listened to him. We barely did.’
He shrugs. ‘I was craving a male father figure to make up for the complete shit-show of the Giovanni years. He taught me to shave, too.’
More and more surprises. ‘I had no idea boys needed to be taught that stuff.’
‘I was sort of doing it myself but hadn’t quite got the hang of it.’
‘It’s funny, Dad must have taught Yan, too, but he isn’t half as attached to shaving properly as you are. He says you never miss a morning, but maybe occasionally you should. Mark Marino’s Stubble would make a killing on OnlyFans.’
I wait for his flirty smile, but he doesn’t react. He rubs his jaw roughly. ‘I don’t like myself unshaven. I look too much like him.’
I had no idea Mark felt like this. But I should have guessed.
And I’m struck again by how much he’s been carrying all these years. How much of his tough exterior was bravado. Why had I never realised before?
Pen enters the kitchen looking sheepish. ‘Sorry, I got stuck on my phone. How can I help?’
I nod at the carrier bags on the floor. ‘Why don’t you put the drinks in the fridge?’
After she’s emptied all three bags, she stops.
‘Did we not buy gin?’
‘I’m pretty sure we did. Is it not there?’
‘Maybe it rolled out in the car?’ suggests Mark.
‘Damn,’ says Pen. ‘We got into a discussion about what type of gin to buy. Something plain-ish or with a stronger flavour. It was my fault – sorry.’
‘We can do without,’ I say. ‘It’s not a problem.’
I go back to cutting the last slices of cake before I realise Pen is quietly crying.
‘Oh Pen, sweetie, please don’t worry about the gin.’
‘I don’t want to go home,’ she whispers.
I put the knife down and pull her into a hug. ‘We all feel like that on the last day.’
Her crying only seems to get worse. I catch Mark’s eye.
‘I’m going to go and buy gin,’ he says, picking up his keys.
I nod gratefully and squeeze Pen tightly.
I hold her, waiting for the tears to subside. The poor thing, she’s had a rough few months.
Pen looks up. ‘Tell him to be careful.’
‘He’ll be fine.’
She looks stricken. ‘Please.’
‘Be careful, Mark,’ I call.
‘Will do,’ he replies before we hear the sound of the front door closing.
This seems to calm her. Although why the sudden worry about Mark? She did something similar last night.
‘Want to tell me what’s going on?’
She takes a shaky breath. ‘I’m not getting better. Everyone said I just needed a break after all the stress of the exams, but if anything, it’s got worse.’
‘How long have you been on your medication? It can take a while to work.’
‘I … I stopped taking it. It was giving me horrible dreams to the point I dreaded going to sleep.’
‘Oh, sweetheart, I wish you’d said something. Your doctor can prescribe a different pill. Sometimes, it takes a couple of tries to find the right one.’
‘There’s only one doctor at the practice that I like, and he’s on holiday till the end of the month. I don’t want to see anyone else because they all try and fob me off, saying it’s normal exam stress.’
‘Have you been talking to your counsellor at college?’
‘Yeah. She’s been great, and she’s done so much to reassure me. But she doesn’t work over the summer break. And it’s just …’
‘It’s just what?’
‘It’s not only college that makes me anxious. It started that way, but now, it’s spread.’
‘That’s the way it goes sometimes, your brain gets into the anxiety habit. What other things do you get anxious about?’
She takes a few moments. ‘I worry that people I love are going to get hurt. Like Mum, Dad, you, Yan and Tig.’ She swallows. ‘Get hurt, or die.’
‘Okay, let’s go and sit down.’ I lead her to the living room, and we sit side by side on the sofa.
‘Like last night, I couldn’t go to bed till I knew you were out of the pool.’
‘Hey, it’s not your job to worry about your big sister. It’s my job to worry about you. I mean, the fear’s logical I guess. We had a scary pool incident. But I wasn’t alone. Mark was keeping an eye on me.’
‘Oh God, Mark …’ she wails. ‘I’m worried that …’
‘What?’
‘I’m worried that he’s upset that I called him Granddad earlier and he’ll be so mad, he’s going to crash. And it will be my fault.’
‘Do you often feel that? That something bad will happen and that you’re somehow to blame?’
She nods tearfully. ‘I try not to say the wrong thing, but I slip up. Like yesterday when Yan went to the gym because I teased him about getting a little belly.’
‘And when you’ve had that thought – that you’ve done something to upset someone and they will get hurt as a result – has your therapist talked you through how you should deal with it?’
‘She said I need to look at the evidence – like Yan’s a good driver, he’s never crashed before, so what are the chances now? To not go to the worst-case scenario.’
‘And does that help?’
‘I must be doing it wrong because it works for a while, but then the original fear comes back again.’
This is so much worse than I realised. She’s not going to get better unless someone treats her for what she has. And it’s not simple exam stress.
‘How much time do you lose with these kinds of thoughts?’
‘A lot.’
‘What you’re describing sounds like OCD.’
She makes a face. ‘I’m not tidy all the time or need all my clothes to line up perfectly in my wardrobe.’
‘It’s a common misconception. When people think of OCD, they think of constant hand-washing or checking you’ve locked the door a hundred times. But it’s got many sub-types. And the thing you’re describing sounds like Pure O.
‘Would you be willing to talk to a specialist doctor about it? Because I happen to know Europe’s leading authority on OCD and he owes me a favour. Or, rather his son does – big time – because he slept with another woman when we were dating.’
Pen’s eyes go wide: ‘Rich’s dad?’
I smile. ‘About time something good came of my relationship with him.’
‘I’d feel bad if you get back in touch with Rich because of me.’
‘It’s not a problem, I promise.’ I give her another hug. ‘God, it must be exhausting, you poor thing. How’s your sleep?’
‘Not great, but if I can have naps in the day it helps.’
‘Do you want to have a nap before the party? I can come and lie with you if it helps.’
‘I’ll be okay, Nell. But thank you.’
She heads towards the stairs and then stops. ‘When I said I worry about the people I love, I don’t mean I love Mark. But you do, and I love you.’
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I say nothing.