26. Santella & Scallops

I’ve come to stay with the Cullimores this weekend. Jerry picked me up from school in his Porsche again. I love the sound of its throaty engine. I stare out of the window as we wind our way down the country lanes to Penn, so happy to be leaving school behind for the weekend.

"We're taking you to Santella tonight" he says glancing at me for a moment. He's grinning. I feel excited and a bit nervous. Santella is a very smart restaurant and it’s going to be just me and Bar and Gerry.

I’ve dressed in the nicest clothes I have and plan to be on my best behaviour. I hope it goes well. Will I know what to talk about?

When we get to the restaurant we are shown to our table. It is laid with a starched white cloth and polished silver and glass. Looking through the menu I’m not sure what to choose. Are we having a starter? I wait for Bar and Gerry to say what they are having so that I know what to do.

The waiter has a very strong Italian accent, so I think he might like to speak Italian rather than English. I order my food in Italian “Io prendo i spaghetti alla carbonara per favore” I say, looking directly at him, smiling. He scowls at me, “Of course” he replies. He doesn’t want to speak Italian, he seems cross that I did. I have no idea why and I feel embarrassed and stupid. My spaghetti is good but it doesn’t taste anything like it does it Italy. I think it’s got cream in it, that’s odd. It’s funny, it’s Italian food that doesn’t really taste Italian.

At the end of the meal Jerry orders Sambuca for me and him. Bar doesn’t want any. I’m sure I’m too young but Gerry clearly thinks it’s fine. They bring it to the table in little narrow glasses with a coffee bean floating on top. The waiter holds a match to the glass and the alcohol burns with a bright blue flame swaying on top of the glass. It’s very impressive. It tastes like aniseed balls, which are my favourite.  I love it, I could get used to this! I feel very grown up and special.

It’s so kind of Gerry and Bar to take me out to dinner but I think I like it better when we stay at home. I feel nervous at the restaurant in case I do something wrong and the food is nice but Bar and Gerry are such good cooks, I like their food better. I like it when we sit in their dining room and Bar passes the food through the hatch from the kitchen. I help her lay the table with smart plates and silver cutlery. The mahogany table is so polished it shines like a mirror and they have these place mats with paintings of hunting scenes on them. The table looks even smarter than at Santella. There are silver salt and pepper pots and starched cotton napkins. It’s a bit like being in a restaurant anyway! Bar’s puddings are so good. She makes the best Pavlova with strawberries and raspberries and lots and lots of whipped double cream and last time I came she made apple crumble with custard, all from scratch and she picked the apples from a tree in the garden.

I won’t be having scallops ever again though. A few exeats ago, Gerry cooked some as a starter. It was the first time I ever tasted them. He fried them in butter and white wine and they were very nice. I went to bed as usual but I woke up after about an hour feeling terrible. I felt so nauseous and my tummy ached. I tossed and turned in bed hoping I’d go back to sleep but I felt worse and worse. I didn’t want to wake Bar or Gerry. I have never been in their bedroom and it was very late at night. I sat up and sipped some water but I just felt worse. I was so panicky. I wished I was home and could call mummy. I didn’t know what to do. I crept into the hallway and stood outside their bedroom door. I thought I was going to faint I felt so bad. But I was too scared to go in. Then I just knew I was going to be sick. I made it to the loo just off the hall. I am never sick. I can’t remember the last time I vomited. I don’t know if I ever have. It was the worst thing ever. I felt so, so bad, all clammy and cold and shivery and I was vomiting and crying at the same time. I felt so weak and ended up sitting on the floor next to the toilet in the tiny little room. I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t sure if I could stand up and get back to bed. So I crawled to Bar and Gerry’s bedroom door and sat there for a minute, too scared to knock and too scared not to.

Eventually I tapped very gently on the door and called Bar’s name. I don’t know how long I sat there until she came out, but she did. And she was so kind. She helped me back to bed and she brought me a tiny little glass of brown alcohol. She said it was Brandy and that it would make me feel better. So I sipped the liquid gingerly and it stung as it hit my throat. Burt somehow it felt like just what I needed. So I took a few more tiny sips and as the Brandy made it to my stomach I did actually start to feel a bit less sick. Bar stayed with me for a bit and then I told her that I felt ok and would try to go to sleep. I didn’t really want her to go, I liked having her there but I also felt strange with her sitting at the end of the bed and it was so late, I knew she needed to go back to sleep. She closed the door behind her and said I must call for her if I needed her. I knew I wouldn’t though. I felt too shy. I’d be ok. My tummy felt better and the nausea was waning. I would be fine. Everything would be fine, like it always is.

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I have tried eating scallops twice since then and both times have been violently ill. The body remembers... never again!

When I am ill I tend to withdraw and look after myself or I try to behave as if I am ok and ignore pain if I can. I am a terrible patient. I am allergic to being helped or cared for. I use the word allergic deliberatly. Kindness in those moments makes my skin crawl. It feels as though I am being invaded, it is almost painful. I have formed such a strong, rigid capacity to withdraw into myself and lick my wounds that any attempt to connect with me feels alien. But I'm learning, learning to let a little tenderness in, learning to receive love and allow myself to be held, just a little. Learning that it's ok to risk showing my vulnerability beacause today I am surrounded by people who care and want to be there for me.