Leaving his precious sandwiches behind, he took the stairs two at a time and knocked on Rosetta’s door as a courtesy before letting himself inside. “Mum? Where you at?”
Somewhere inside the flat, a door opened and closed. Assuming it was Rosetta locking herself away, Benito toed his trainers off and padded through the flat to the kitchen to put Gianna’s dessert away.
“Beni?”
“Jesusfuck.” Benito jumped and whirled around. Rosetta was behind him, still in her dressing gown. “Don’t sneak up on me.”
She offered him a wan smile. “I didn’t. You’re inmyhome. And don’t swear.”
Benito had forgotten that Rosetta had once been in on the running joke he shared with Gianna.
Sadness flared. He dampened it down and opened the fridge. “I brought Gianna cannoli from Pepe’s. Is there anything else you need? I’ve got time for a supermarket run.”
“We’re fine. How about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, how are you, Benito? You look like you haven’t slept for a week.”
“What do you care?”
“That’s not fair.”
“Really? This again?”
Rosetta ventured further into the kitchen. She retrieved her favourite frying pan from the hook above the stove and the decanter of olive oil that was never out of reach. “I know I haven’t been the best mother to you, but I’m allowed to care. You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“I’m not—fuck. You know what? Never mind. I’m leaving anyway.”
Benito moved to step around her.
Rosetta caught his arm in her cold, bony hand. “Wait.”
“Why?”
“Because you look hungry and I can help you with that.”
“Help me?”
“Yes. I have plenty of food now. My Universal Credit payments came through and the housing officer helped me set up a budget plan.”
“Mickey?”
“Yes.” Rosetta slid him a glance he couldn’t decipher. “You’ve met him. The northern boy with the nice eyes.”
“If you say so.” Benito felt faint. He gripped the peeling laminate counter behind him and leaned against it. “I should still go. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“You don’t,” Rosetta said shortly. “Ido that all by myself. Did you know anxiety is ninety per cent worrying about worrying?”
“Um, no?”Am I even awake right now?“Who told you that? Doctor Google?”
“No. The counsellor that came round last week. We talked about you a lot.”
“Why?”
“Because I told her I wanted you around more, but every time I think about asking you to come, I panic about being anxious when you’re here.”
Why are you telling me this?Benito leaned harder against the counter and watched Rosetta move around the kitchen, retrieving eggs from the windowsill and a loaf of Italian bread from the cupboard.