Chapter 10 #2
We sit around the table, and because fate is both predictable and petty, I end up sitting opposite Nico. Yep, I get to look him in the eye all evening.
Mum sits opposite Hank.
Soon enough, Camille returns with our starter.
The first course is a small salad with figs, goat’s cheese, rocket and a balsamic glaze that has been drizzled so artistically I almost don’t want to disturb it.
It’s delicious, loath as I am to admit it.
Fresh and sharp and creamy, with bread warm enough to thaw even my icy scowl.
‘This is amazing,’ Mum says after her first bite.
Hank beams as though he made it himself.
‘Camille’s brilliant,’ he says. ‘She came recommended.’
Mum and Hank chat, clearly determined to create a warm, easy atmosphere. Unfortunately, all they seem to be talking about is me or Nico.
‘Sammie has always been clever,’ Mum says, like she’s recommending me for a job.
I close my eyes briefly, exhaling through my nose, hoping she runs out of things to say about me as quickly as possible.
‘So clever…’
‘Mum.’
‘What? You are,’ she replies.
Hank turns to me with interest.
‘Chrissy says you’re an engineer.’
I nod.
‘What kind?’
‘Civil,’ I tell him. ‘Water, specifically.’
‘Very impressive,’ Hank says. ‘So you’re the reason we have clean water.’
‘She is,’ Mum adds. ‘She’s brilliant. She works so hard. Does all sorts of important things with infrastructure and planning and—’
‘Okay, Mum, let’s not bore them,’ I interrupt her.
‘—and she’s always been like that, so focused, so determined.’
‘Isn’t that impressive, Nico?’ Hank prompts his son.
Nico leans back slightly.
‘So you basically work in sewage,’ he says.
He says it with a cheeky little smile, like he knows exactly what he’s doing and is just interested in seeing how quickly I’ll rise to it.
Immediately, as it turns out.
‘Not literally, no,’ I reply.
‘Who knew people were purposefully getting into sewage,’ he continues.
‘She’s got two degrees,’ Mum chimes in, not quite getting the ‘joke’ Nico is making.
‘You need degrees to get into sewage?’ he continues.
Hank gives his son a kick under the table. I think it was supposed to be subtle, but isn’t at all.
‘Video games are Nico’s thing,’ Hank replies. ‘You do well with them, don’t you, son?’
Ah, yes, Hank said Nico sold video games. I can’t resist asking…
‘How many degrees do you need to do that?’ I ask.
‘None,’ he says. ‘Saved myself a ton of debt.’
Ugh, it’s like I’m incapable of one-upping him.
It’s irritating how quickly he’s found the exact angle to annoy me.
The second course arrives before I can storm off and it looks good enough for me to stay.
Pan-seared sea bass with lemon butter, tiny roasted potatoes and a green vegetable arrangement that looks like it was plated with tweezers.
The fish flakes apart perfectly, the potatoes are crisp and the lemon butter is so good I wonder if it’s a faux pas to lick a plate on a yacht. Probably, right?
‘He’s very good at his job,’ Hank continues.
And we’re back to that.
‘So you basically game all day?’ I ask, matching his earlier tone as closely as possible. ‘For work?’
‘Yes,’ he says simply.
No shame, no defence, no justifications – just a yes.
‘Right,’ I say. ‘Must be exhausting…’
Hank looks between us, amused.
‘It’s more complicated than that,’ Hank replies.
‘Is it?’ I ask.
‘Yes,’ Hank says.
‘No,’ Nico says at the same time.
Mum laughs softly into her wine.
‘He’s being modest,’ Hank insists.
Nico gives him a look.
‘I’m really not.’
‘I believe Nico,’ I can’t resist chiming in.
He shoots me a look.
‘You two,’ Mum says, in the exact voice she used when I was twelve and arguing with a cousin over Monopoly, ‘play nicely.’
I turn to her.
‘He started it,’ I insist, not realising how that sounds.
‘I didn’t start anything,’ he replies.
‘All right, kids, that’s enough,’ Hank says firmly. ‘Can we just enjoy a nice dinner, please? We’re supposed to be on holiday…’
It’s quite bizarre how he utters the words like he’s said them a thousand times before, like he’s my dad, like Nico and I are his bickering children. He even referred to us as ‘kids’ – so weird.
I look across at Nico – he’s already looking at me and, for one deeply unsettling second, we are united entirely by our mutual horror at the situation.
That said, as twisted as it sounds, there’s something almost comforting about it, which is alarming because I do not wish to feel cosy in this configuration. For a minute it feels like being a part of a family – but we are absolutely not a family, nor will we ever be. We can’t be.
Dessert is a chocolate fondant with raspberry sorbet – ten out of ten, no notes. The only thing I can complain about is the company.
‘To good company,’ Hank says, raising his glass.
‘I’ll clink to that,’ Mum replies.
I mean, right now, I’ll drink to anything just to drink, so I raise my glass too.
We all look to Nico.
‘Cheers,’ he says, laughing it off.
He clinks his glass with mine, holding eye contact for a second longer than he needs to after the little ‘ding’ sound of our drinks colliding. Probably just to annoy me.
What a mixed bag of an evening – and I had all the ingredients to be perfect, but with just enough to ruin the flavour.
Good food, warm air, too many loaded glances between our parents and a steady stream of bickering between Nico and me.
By the time Camille leaves and Hank insists on pouring one last drink, I feel oddly tired.
Like it’s taken energy to keep my brave face on all night.
Mum is sitting in one of the comfy chairs now, smiling at something Hank says.
He looks at her in a way that can’t hide his attraction to her – how clearly delighted he is that she’s here.
As happy for her as I am, it’s hard not to feel a little jealous.
I don’t remember the last time someone looked at me like that.
Nico catches me watching them.
‘You all right?’ he asks quietly.
The question is simple enough, with no jokes or bad intentions, that it catches me off guard.
I look back at him.
‘Yeah. Fine.’
He tilts his head slightly.
‘That sounded convincing.’
‘Well, it’s weird, isn’t it?’ I reply, keeping my voice low.
He pauses for a second, so I gesture vaguely around us.
‘All of this,’ I blurt, still keeping the noise down.
He nods for a second, but doesn’t get the chance to reply.
‘Oh, kids,’ Hank calls out.
Oh, I did not want that to catch on.
‘What are you two whispering about?’ Mum asks with a smile.
‘Sammie was just telling me what happens when you flush a toilet,’ Nico calls back.
I can’t help but shoot him a dirty look.
‘Youth is wasted on the young, isn’t it?’ Hank says, turning his attention back to my mum.
I can’t believe this is only the end of our first day here. This is going to be a looong week.