Chapter 36

Thankfully, Steve's parents arrive home on Sunday evening. Lorraine comes to my house to collect him. I'm not sure I could've put up with him for much longer. He's a truly terrible patient, demanding and complaining in equal measure while also madly inquisitive about me and Charles. He was expecting Charles to call around at least once while he was here. I think he was hoping to confront him and tell him that he wasn't treating me properly, not that Steve has a great track record in that department either. But he knew there was something amiss between us and he desperately wanted to find out what it was. In the end, I told him that Charles was jealous of him staying with me, and he looked positively pleased with himself and said it wasn't surprising, him being a young, attractive man and Charles being over the hill. I remarked that Charles was in better shape than him right now, but Steve, who had perked up considerably over the last twelve hours, said that he'd soon be on his feet while Charles probably needed to put his up every few hours.

I couldn't help laughing. I wonder why it is that men always compare themselves favourably to other men, yet women usually compare themselves unfavourably to other women. Steve thinks he's a way better catch than Charles, whereas every time I look at Ariel, I wonder why on earth he let her go. I mean, I know why in theory. But in practice she's so much more glamorous and sophisticated than me that it's not surprising he likes having her around.

I check my phone. Another half-dozen texts from Charles, the last one asking if he can call to Marino.

I need time alone, I respond. Please stop messaging me.

OK. Call me soon. I love you. Cxxx

Three kisses!

I leave the phone to one side, bundle Steve's medication together and put it a paper bag. He's wearing the same clothes as he was the night he came to me, which I've washed and ironed, although I haven't been able to do anything about the rip in his shirt. Not that it bothers him. Ripped is his look. He's been living in Dad's tracksuits and T-shirts since coming to the house, and he's glad to get rid of them. Dad isn't known for his street style.

‘Thanks for everything, Izzy,' he says. ‘You were great.'

‘Indeed you were,' says Lorraine, more warmly than she's ever spoken to me before. ‘We all appreciate how much you've done for him.'

‘I hope we'll keep in touch.' He gives me a meaningful look. ‘Any time you need me, any time at all.'

‘I won't need you, Steve,' I say. ‘But I'll always remember you.'

I wave them off and close the door. Then I flop into the armchair he's vacated and close my eyes. It's good to have the house to myself again. It's good to be on my own again. I've got used to living alone since Mum and Dad went to New Zealand. It'll be hard to adapt to their return. Just as it'll be hard to adapt to living with Charles, always provided that that actually happens. That we'll get married like we're supposed to.

I pick up my phone and scroll through his multiple text messages and voicemails.

What is it with men? I wonder. When they want something, they keep on and on at you until you give in. Like Steve persuading me to let him stay at the house. And like Charles over the last twenty-four hours. Or maybe it's me. Maybe I'm the sort of person who encourages them to keep trying. Maybe I don't know how to say no. #PeoplePleaser