Page 65 of High Season
“We can’t all afford a team of hypnotherapists to rid us of our addictions, Rocco.”
“Never start smoking, Hannah,” Rocco said, almost conspiratorially. “It’s a tough habit to break.”
He had a way of looking right at her, of making Hannah feel like they already shared some kind of confidence. She could see why he had been such a heartthrob back in the day. Still was, she supposed. She’d seen the magazine coverage when Rocco and his supermodel wife renewed their vows on their Italian vineyard estate last summer. They had twins about Nina’s age, who always looked spookily perfect whenever they were photographed, glossy double-paged spreads of the whole family smiling in front of their sprawling countryside farmhouse. They looked nothing like Blake.
“You know full well everyone smoked when I started,” Evelyn said. “It was the seventies, for god’s sake.”
Rocco ignored her.
“Is your friend coming with us to dinner?” he asked Blake. “Hannah? Would you like to join us?”
“You’re taking him out for dinner?” Evelyn said. “I thought we were all eating here. I got Patricia to set up the dining room…”
“But I’m here early, and I’ve got reservations,” said Rocco, cutting across her smoothly. “Down at La Maison de la Mer. They’ll be able to add another seat for Hannah, I’m sure.”
“I’m vegetarian now. I don’t eat seafood,” Tamara said triumphantly, and then, under her breath, “which you wouldknowif we ever saw you.”
Rocco seemed to ignore his daughter, whipping around to place his hand on Blake’s shoulder.
“Actually, I was thinking I’d just take Blake out tonight. A boys’ night. Well, the boys and Blake’s new friend, I suppose. I’ll take Tamara out tomorrow.”
Hannah saw Blake falter. A quick, worried glance at Tamara. Tamara’s face was impassive, her mouth set into a hard line.
Evelyn let out a small, disbelieving laugh.
“Well,” she said. “That’s how to parent like Rocco Mae, I suppose. One child at a time.”
“I thought it’d be better to have quality time with them,” Rocco said. “Me and Flora have been talking about how to be really present with the kids, you know? Give them our undivided attention.”
Tamara let out a small, sharp snort. There was a brief, terrible moment of silence. Evelyn, swaying foot to foot, her cigarette burning down in one hand. Rocco, looking straight back, his face still, his jaw set square.
“And what am I supposed to tell Patricia?” Evelyn said at last, her voice smaller now. “Harrison and I can hardly eat a whole leg of lamb between us.”
“Patricia’s handled worse dramas from you, I’m sure,” Rocco said, and Hannah saw the way that Evelyn flinched before she gathered herself again, straightened, frowned.
“Blake, Hannah, how about it? Maison de la Mer?”
“I was actually just leaving—” Hannah started, but Rocco wasn’t looking at her.
“Blake?” he repeated.
She watched as Blake hesitated, the eyes of both parents boring into him. He glanced between them. Then, he looked at his sister.
“Yeah,” Blake said, at last. “Yeah, let’s go to Maison de la Mer.”
“Great.” Rocco clapped his hands together. “The car’s waiting outside.”
“Right, perfect.” Evelyn stubbed her cigarette out hard. “I’ll just tell Patricia that nobody wants the dinner that she ordered in especially, I suppose.”
Nobody seemed to be listening. Hannah would have almost felt sorry for Evelyn, if it wasn’t for the way that Blake took her hand. Claiming her, in front of everyone.
“Come on,” he said, his face brightening. “You’ll love this place.”
For Hannah, going out for dinner was a rare occurrence.
The stretch of coast that they called home wasn’t designed for people on their budget, with their tastes. Her mum said she hated the restaurants that patterned the small seaside towns. Her dad said going out was a waste of money anyway.
One of the best things about where they lived, Hannah’s mum always said, was how easy it was to get fresh ingredients. Crab caught straight out of the sea, salty mussels that she would douse in butter and garlic and box up for a picnic on top of the cliffs, their fingers greasy as they cracked open the shells. They didn’t need expensive restaurants, her parents always told her. They had the best view for free, the best food that they could make at home. They had the best company, as long as they were with each other.
