Chapter 17
I must have closed my eyes for a few minutes because when I open them, an entire congregation, including the priest, is staring down at us, whispering.
‘Did they have sex, do you think?’ someone hisses.
‘Hardly. These pews are too narrow. And hard.’
‘How would you know? Have you tried it yourself?’
Holy shit. ‘Markus!’ I hiss, shaking him. ‘Wake up! Markus!’
‘Wha…?’
He opens his eyes and stares up at the old biddies now grinning down at us.
‘Am I dreaming or are there people hovering over us, Livvie?’ he whispers conspiratorially.
‘No dreaming,’ I assure him. ‘We fell asleep!’
‘Erm, Signora Dawson,’ the priest says. ‘A word, if you don’t mind…’
Trust me to attract unwanted attention wherever I go.
I have been here but a few weeks and already I’ve got a reputation.
Catholicism has well and truly judged and condemned us to burn in the eternal fires of hell.
But that’s nothing – just wait until Dr Severini hears about this. He’ll have a field day.
*
Markus is waiting by his car, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He looks like he’s waiting for a bollocking, poor sod. When he sees me, his hands come out of his pockets and he splays them before me apologetically.
‘I’m so sorry about that. I guess I’m a bad influence.’
I shrug. ‘It’s fine. He believes me, and we haven’t broken any rules, really.’
‘I’m glad. I wasn’t planning on getting you into any trouble, but there it is. Sorry. At least we slept soundly.’
And then it hits me. ‘Hey, you know what?’
‘What?’
‘This is the first time I have slept soundly since I’ve been here!’
‘What?’
‘I slept the whole night without waking up with anxiety attacks! Thank you, Markus!’
And then he finally grins that sexy grin of his. ‘Anytime.’
We hug and I don’t want to let go. To be honest, I could quite frankly hang onto him for ever. ‘Thanks for coming all the way here, I really appreciate it.’
‘It’s nothing. We’ll call you tonight when I get in,’ he promises.
‘Does my family know you came?’
He smiles sheepishly. ‘Uhm, just your dad. I don’t think Simon approves of our friendship as it is.’
I snort. ‘That’s putting it mildly. But he’s not jealous.’
‘No, of course not.’
‘He’s just jealous of you, as a person. Not of us. Because there is no us. In that sense, I mean.’
‘Of course,’ he agrees. We stand in awkward silence for a moment. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have come.’
‘No, I’m glad you did. It’s not every day that a girl has a best friend like you.’
‘BFF,’ he says.
‘BFF,’ I agree as a thousand knives slice up my heart from the inside. He bends down to give me the lightest kiss on the cheek and it’s all I can do not to shiver in sheer pleasure.
‘You’re going to miss your flight, go,’ I say, wrenching myself away from him like some medieval damsel who has forsaken her lover to save his life or some other heartbreaking situation. I completely get it.
With one last, painful (for me) hug, Markus gets into his rental and drives down the slope, disappearing round the first bend.
With Markus gone, the emptiness is so heavy I know I can’t go on living this way.
I need to sort myself out. I can’t be feeling like this, so bereft and impaired, when at home I have a husband.
The mere thought of him should cheer me up.
But it doesn’t and I need to be honest with myself.
I don’t have a husband in Simon. I haven’t for a long time.
I need to speak with him. Make it clear to him that we can’t stay married. I owe it to myself to be free. And Mina’s song, ‘Se telefonando’, the one about the telephone break-up, pops into my mind again.
*
‘So the word is out!’ My mother beams as I inch my way to my bed, my back absolutely shot by the night spent on the pew. ‘Tell!’
‘There’s nothing to tell, Mother,’ I say as I ease myself down on the bed. I never thought that if we ever slept together (genuinely just slept) it would be this devastating to my body.
‘Nothing to tell? Oh, come on, Livvie. It’s me you’re talking to. I can see it from miles away. You are in love with him.’
‘Mother, I hardly think that’s appropriate.’
‘Why not? We both know that Simon isn’t the one for you. God knows I’ve told you so many times…’
‘You mean you’ve told Dad so many times.’
‘I had to,’ she says simply. ‘But you went and married him anyway.’
‘I was pregnant, Mother…’
‘So what? Lots of women have babies on their own. In fact, being with Simon is practically like being on your own, isn’t it? It’s a good thing that Markus is in your life.’
It figures that my mother would encourage me to leave my husband. If I still had any doubts about it, now I know I can’t. I can’t do to my kids what my mother did to me. I’ll have to try to be happy some other way.
‘Okay, Mother, first of all, Markus is just a friend.’
‘Rubbish. Your father told me the way he looks at you.’
‘What?’
‘Everybody can see it. This man is in love with you, too.’
‘How can any of you say that? The truth is, Mother, if you really, really want to know, Markus feels sorry for me.’
She stares at me.
‘That’s right. He feels sorry for me because my life is a mess.’ The fact that it was partly her fault is by the by.
‘Livvie, that’s life. It is a mess. But you know, it can also be a beautiful mess if you let it.’
A beautiful mess? Only she could come up with something like that.
‘Live every day, Livvie. Be happy. Fight for what you want. No one has the right to take anything away from you.’
You did, I want to say. You took from me the joy of living. You took away my trust in you, and my self-confidence. You took my entire childhood away from me, leaving me scared, embittered and enraged…
And then I get it. ‘You knew he was coming, didn’t you?’ I ask.
‘Of course! Your father told me. That’s why I made myself unavailable all day.’
Well. I guess she did get me what I wanted for my birthday after all: time alone with Markus.
‘Aren’t you coming down to breakfast?’ she asks as I pull the sheet over my head.
‘No,’ I whisper. ‘I need to sleep now.’
‘And dream of Markus?’ she sing-songs. ‘You do that. And think about what I said. Only you can make yourself happy.’
*
The news is all over the place. My mother’s friends are ecstatic that I’ve dared to break the no-sex-on-the-premises rule.
They think I’ve been swinging from the chapel chandeliers with Markus, only to land, exhausted, onto a back pew to sleep it off.
I’m literally a legend among the cleaning staff and the waiters, and even the managerial staff, who normally just say Buongiorno in the corridors, are now saying Buongiorrrrnoooo!
‘Tell us, tell us, tell us,’ Carla begs, taking me by the wrists to sit me down at the breakfast table. ‘Elsa saw him. She says he’s bellissimooo!’
‘He is!’ my mother agrees. I turn to glare at her. ‘What?’ she says, the picture of innocence. ‘I’ve seen the pictures your father’s sent me.’
I roll my eyes.
‘So has he committed or was it just sex?’ Lucia wants to know, clutching at her very expensive pearls.
‘Neither,’ I answer, yawning.
‘Mamma mia, he’s really done a number on you, sì?’ Maria exclaims.
If only. I wish he’d come to tell me something crazy like he loves me, but no.
And my mother’s friends, they’re dying to hear it, too, literally elbowing the others out of the way so they can be the first to hear stories of my love and passion for Markus. But there’s only one tiny detail.
‘Ladies, I’m married!’ I remind them.
‘Pffawww…’ Carla says. ‘Marriage! Do you know what that is? A rescindable agreement once he’s taken the best years of your life!’
‘Act now, or you’ll be sorry when your breasts are dangling on the dinner table, you don’t recognise your face in the mirror and you haven’t got the energy to do what you could be doing now!’ Maria says, patting my hand. ‘To hell with morality. Enjoy your life while you still can!’
‘And this is your religious group?’ I quip, and they all roar with laughter.
‘We all got married for love when we were in our twenties, bella,’ Elsa says. ‘We helped our husbands in their careers, raised the family, organised their social lives, made them look like the greatest men on earth while behind the scenes, we were the ones doing all the work!’
Lucia leans in. ‘We chose the wrong man for love and had to stick with him for fear of losing our reputations. But now I say to hell with reputation, where is my life? My happiness? Your mother was the first one to rebel against society. She is a trail-blazer!’
Now that was a word I wouldn’t have used to describe my mother.
*
The next day my mother and I are scheduled to have a joint session with Dr Severini. I know it’s her doing but I’ve decided to go with it.
‘So…!’ he says as I sheepishly walk in and take my seat.
He is smiling gleefully this morning. He’s over the moon, as you can imagine.
A crack in my armour, now that’s something to talk about!
Which confirms my opinion of him. But I want to see how far he can go.
Plus, talking to him is better than not talking at all, right?
Of course I feel like an impostor, but it’s also fun to see how the world would react to a woman who’s betrayed her shitty husband (info courtesy of my mother, no doubt) for a man the likes of Markus (info courtesy of the congregants who caught us in sleeping).
‘There have been new developments, I hear,’ he debuts.
I lean forward. ‘Did my mother tell you that? Is that what this joint session is all about? And are you even allowed to acknowledge that crappy gossip?’
‘Ah, but is it?’ he counters with a twinkle in his eye.
‘What is wrong with you?’ I ask. ‘You’re supposed to be an objective shrink.’
‘I am. I was given objective information by a proper source and I have drawn my conclusions.’
‘Again, I did not have sex with Markus.’
‘I never said you did. But there is no way you would fall asleep with a man you’re not in love with.’
Busted.
‘So now the question is, Olivia, what are you going to do about it?’
Terrific question. What am I going to do about it? Absolutely nothing.
That’s when the door opens and my mother saunters in. I can’t remember her ever being on time. Not once, and today is no exception.
‘Did you tell everyone that Markus and I are a thing?’ I ask her before she even gets a chance to sit down.
She looks up from her bangles, smiling. ‘What’s that, love?’
‘I said, did you tell everyone that Markus and I— Oh, never mind. It’s not like anyone will believe me after your masterpiece of a story.’
‘I haven’t said a thing to anyone. They came to me, and I simply said that Markus is a lovely man and a good friend to you.’
‘Yeah, right…’
‘But if you want my opinion I think he’s the right bloke for you.’
‘Mother, please listen to me carefully. I am a married woman. No, it’s not perfect, but no marriage is. Will you please tell her, Doctor?’
But he only beams at her. What is wrong with everybody here? Why is everyone under her bloody spell?
‘Mine is,’ she interjects. ‘Because I chose well. I followed my heart, and you should, too.’
‘Well, not all of us have that blessing,’ I snap. ‘We don’t always have a choice.’
She looks up at me with those enormous eyes. ‘Everyone has a choice, especially when they believe they don’t. It’s never too late, Olivia. Leave him. The kids will understand. We will all support you.’
I get to my feet, unable to believe what she’s just said. How dare she judge my life? How dare she tell me what to do? She will support me? This is so rich!
‘My marriage may not be perfect. But it’s my decision whether to stay or go because it affects the people I love.
But you wouldn’t understand that, Mother, because that’s exactly what you did to us all those years ago.
’ I am so angry I want to spit. ‘And here we are, Mother. Just… Full circle. Right back where we started. You throwing me under the bus once again. I wish you weren’t my mother, because being your daughter has caused us all nothing but pain! ’
And with that, I march out of the session. Dr Severini and my mother are just perfect for each other. And how professionally is my shrink behaving? I really should report him.
I’m still shaking and my blood pressure must be through the roof. So much for a wellness clinic. This place is a bloody death trap!
I go for a walk in the park to blow off some steam.
Luckily, the few people that I come across know better than to stop me for a chat.
Not today. Perhaps not even tomorrow. I’ve had enough of all this.
It’s bad enough that my mother thought it was okay to book me in here, adding herself as one of the features. And in adjoining rooms, to boot.
But she also thinks she can tell me what to do, after all these years.
When I was little she didn’t care, and now?
It’s like she’s come down on me in one fell swoop to try and correct all the things she doesn’t like about me.
And everyone here pretty much thinks that I’m an immature, ungrateful daughter who can’t keep her own husband, when in reality she’s the one who gave up her husband and children to be with someone else. Who’s the selfish person now, eh?
I’ve had enough. I need to get out of here pronto.