Chapter 9
NICO
The walls of my cabin have never seemed thinner.
I can hear the muffled rhythm of movement. Footsteps crossing the deck. A burst of laughter that sounds like Chrissy pretending to find my dad funny.
I lie back on the bed for a second and stare at the ceiling.
This is not how I imagined this trip going.
Not that I’d imagined it in any great detail – the whole point was that this was supposed to be a break from work, a chance to do nothing but chill out, to hop into a pair of trunks, and do nothing but swim, snooze on the deck, eat and drink everything.
I’m sure I’m alone in saying this, but, for me, coming to Monte Carlo was an opportunity not to socialise, to be reclusive, but, you know, on a yacht.
But my dad had other ideas, ideas he didn’t think of mentioning to me…
I know, I sound like a dick, because one minute I’m pushing him to meet someone else, and the next I’m moaning about him actually finding someone, but the idea was for me to get more free time without him, not even less with him and his new woman.
And her daughter too – I definitely didn’t sign up for that.
At least if Sammie were friendly, we could probably have a laugh about it, but she seems so tightly wound.
There’s a knock on my cabin door. Dad doesn’t wait for me to call out that he can come in, he walks in regardless, but he at least has the decency to look a little sheepish about it.
He comes in and sits down on my bed. As he does he removes that ridiculous captain’s hat he’s found somewhere, and holds it in his hands.
‘How’s it going, son?’ he asks.
I look at him for a moment. I feel like it’s probably his job, to speak first, to apologise, or at least explain.
‘Not ideal,’ I reply.
He sighs as though I’m being difficult for sport.
‘Nico—’
‘Dad,’ I say, echoing his tone. ‘You invited them on our holiday?’
‘Yes…’
‘You said this was going to be a lads’ trip.’
I can’t say I loved the sound of it, when that was how he described it, but he did style it out as a bonding trip for the two of us.
‘And now it’s a lads’ trip with women on it,’ he says, as though that’s supposed to get me on board. ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’
‘Why would I be pleased?’
‘Monaco. Sunshine. Pretty women.’
‘Monaco, the sunshine, and plenty of women were already here,’ I point out, not that I was after much of the latter. ‘Why did you have to bring those two?’
He laughs.
‘I heard you showing off your yacht to them,’ I say, my brow furrowing as I narrow my eyes at him.
‘Let me have this,’ he practically pleads. ‘Come on, I really like Chrissy, I want her here, I want to impress her. I want her to like me.’
Hearing the hope in his voice, his tone softer than usual, the pleading in his eyes – I can tell that he really does want this.
I pause for a moment, lost in my thoughts, because the truth is, I know my dad.
Better than most people do. He’s sociable and loud and always seems like he’s having a better time than everyone else, but underneath that he’s actually quite careful.
Especially since Mum died. He’s dated occasionally, but casually, keeping things light, avoiding anything that might matter too much.
But this… this seems like it matters to him.
It works both ways too. Dad knows me better than anyone else.
The thing about parents is they get to know versions of you that no one else does.
Not because they are especially insightful, though some of them are, but because they were there before you started editing.
Before you refined yourself into the version that functions best at work, among friends, in public.
They remember the first drafts. Even if they don’t always understand them, they could see the outline of what you were going to become, and Dad knows that there’s no way I’m going to ruin this for him.
‘Okay,’ I say slowly. ‘I get it, you really like Chrissy, but did Sammie have to come?’
‘I thought she could be company for you,’ he suggests. I shoot him a look. ‘She’s your age…’
‘Anyone my age is my age,’ I clap back. My point doesn’t come across as clearly as I had intended it. ‘Being the same age doesn’t mean we’ll have anything in common.’
‘You don’t need anything in common, to—’
‘Let me stop you there,’ I interrupt him. ‘I am not double-dating with my dad. At all – but especially not a mother-daughter duo. That’s asking for trouble.’
‘I thought you liked trouble?’ he points out with a grin. ‘Look, I just thought it’d be nice. Chrissy gets to bring Sammie, you get someone your own age around instead of having to entertain me all week…’
‘Sammie hates me.’
Dad frowns.
‘She doesn’t hate you.’
‘She absolutely does,’ I insist.
‘She hasn’t known you long enough to hate you,’ he points out, as though I could potentially grate on people once they get to know me.
‘She didn’t look happy when she found me in her living room,’ I say.
‘Maybe because I was upstairs with her mum,’ he suggests.
‘She didn’t love that – but she did accuse me of stalking her.’
‘I’m sure she was joking.’
‘Are stalking accusations funny?’
He wonders for a moment.
He definitely can’t say she looked pleased to see me today. She looked furious. She definitely doesn’t like me. And now that I think about it…
‘I don’t even think she likes you much either,’ I tell him.
Dad snorts. But then he smiles softly.
‘To be honest, son, I don’t care.’
‘No?’
‘No, seriously.’ He leans forward slightly. ‘I care whether Chrissy likes me. Which she does, by the way, or she wouldn’t be here. And if Sammie thinks I’m a clown, well… fair enough. I’ve survived worse opinions. It’s my job to change her mind.’
‘I’m not going to spend my holiday convincing Sammie to like me.’
‘I’m not asking you to,’ he assures me.
‘Then what are you asking me to do?’
‘Just… suck it up and be a mate.’
‘A mate?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I’m not your mate.’
‘Course you are.’
‘I’m your son,’ I remind him.
‘You are,’ he says quietly. ‘So don’t you want your old dad to be happy?’
Ah. There it is. The emotional blackmail. Subtle, impossible to ignore, successful.
I run my hands through my hair.
‘You know that’s manipulative, right?’
‘Maybe a little.’
‘A lot, actually.’
‘But is it working?’
I look at him. Annoyingly, yes. Because despite everything, despite the ambush, and the confined space and the very real possibility that this trip ends with someone going overboard, he does look happy.
More than happy, actually. Excited. Nervous underneath it too, though he’s trying his best to hide that part.
I haven’t seen him like this in years – maybe ever.
‘Fine,’ I say eventually. ‘I’ll play nice.’
Dad brightens immediately.
‘Good man.’
‘For now,’ I add. ‘Or I could just go home.’
‘No,’ he says, quick as a shot.
‘Dad—’
‘Seriously, I need you here.’
I narrow my eyes slightly.
‘Why?’
He hesitates for about half a second.
‘Because Chrissy will think it’s her fault that you’ve left,’ he admits. ‘Then Sammie will think it’s her fault, and then they’ll both go home, and I’ll be here all alone.’
Honestly, he’s probably right. Sammie already seems like she’s permanently one inconvenience away from bailing. If I disappear after twenty minutes on board, and either she or her mum thinks it’s because of them, it won’t help Dad’s case.
‘Please?’ Dad asks – he practically pouts.
I sigh.
‘Okay. Okay, fine.’
His whole body visibly relaxes.
‘Thank you.’
‘But I’m telling you now, this is not going to be fun.’
Dad stands up, clearly satisfied that the crisis has been averted.
‘You never know…’
‘I do know.’
‘You might end up enjoying yourself.’
‘That doesn’t sound like me…’
‘Maybe it should,’ he suggests, laughing as he heads for the door. ‘Sometimes it seems like you’re the boring old man.’
Before he leaves, he pauses and glances back at me.
‘She’s pretty, isn’t she?’
‘Which one?’ I check, and that’s enough to make him smirk, narrow his eyes at me, look like he’s ‘got me’.
I pick up the nearest pillow and throw it at him.
He ducks out of the cabin, laughing, as the pillow hits the door.
I lie back against the pillows and stare at the ceiling now that I’m alone again.
So much for a quiet break. So much for switching off from work for a few days. So much for a lads’ bonding trip with my dad, which, now that I think about it, sounds just as bad. He’s been my dad for thirty-four years. We’re plenty bonded. I should have known he was bullshitting.
So now I’m trapped on a yacht with my dad, the woman he likes and her daughter who doesn’t seem to be a big fan of any of us right now.
This is going to be terrible.