A waiter put my margherita pizza on the table in front of me, followed by the melanzane alla parmigiana that Nick and I were planning to share. It looked out of this world, all sizzling cheese and crispy edges; I was practically salivating.
‘This looks amazing,’ I said enthusiastically, inhaling the aroma of basil and tomato.
Rosamund, of course, had managed to find the most pretentious-sounding thing on essentially a quite non-pretentious menu.
‘Anyone else go for the beef carpaccio with Tuscan sheep’s cheese and black truffle?’ she asked, as though ordering this weird-sounding dish made her the envy of every single person in the restaurant.
I had a quick glance around and noticed that most people, like me, had gone for pizza.
‘I did, Rosamund,’ said Sophia, who was seated opposite me. ‘Oooh, here’s mine. Yum.’
The waiter laid her plate down in front of her. Personally, I thought mine looked about a hundred times more appetising.
I began slicing up my pizza, not able to wait to dig in.
‘So Maddie was introduced to the delights ofDavid, today,’ announced Nick, throwing his arm casually around my shoulders.
‘Isn’t he magnificent!’ gushed Sophia theatrically.
‘He is,’ I agreed, annoyingly imaginingDavidwith Aidan standing next to him.
I removed the thought from my mind immediately.
‘We’ll have you fully cultured by the end of this trip, Maddie, don’t you worry,’ said Rosamund.
I’d be interested to hear Rosamund’s definition of ‘fully cultured’.
‘Mummy,’ warned Nick. ‘Maddie is a seasoned traveller. She doesn’t need lessons in culture from us.’
‘Oh I know, darling, but there’s always room to learn more. Right, Maddie?’
I happened to have a mouthful of (delicious) pizza right at that very moment and there were an agonising ten seconds or so where I chewed manically while everyone stared at me. I swallowed, washing it down with a glug of water.
‘Absolutely. That’s part of travelling, I think. Immersing yourself in the lifestyle,’ I said, deciding it was best to overlook Rosamund’s patronising tone on this occasion.
Who was I kidding? I found people patronising all the time and never pulled them up on it. Tim was the worst offender. But Rosamund was scarier than everyone at work put together, so I was hardly going to use this as an opportunity to suddenly start standing up for myself. And yet, for some reason, it felt more difficult to keep it inside. Tim might be less than complimentary about my work, but I could take that, it wasn’t personal. Plus he was an arsehole to everybody. But it was like Rosamund knew exactly how to push my buttons – I was sure it was unintentional, but for some reason didn’t make it any easier.
‘Remind us, Maddie. Where is it you’re from?’ asked Rosamund, poking about in her weird mound of sheep’s cheese.
Oh no. Not this. Not now.
I took a sip of wine, hoping she’d give up and move on to another topic if I paused long enough, but they were all looking at me again, waiting with bated breath for my answer.
‘Kent,’ I said, keeping it light.
I would give them the benefit of the doubt that this was what they meant.
‘Yes, but where are youfrom?Originally?’
I’d had the same question time and time again over the years and it never got any easier. I think it was the utter disbelief that got to me, the self-righteousness of thinking I wouldn’t know where I was from and had clearly made some sort of mistake.
‘I’m not sure what you mean, Rosamund?’ I said, feigning confusion.
‘Well. I mean. Where are your …’
She was floundering. Good.
‘… family from?’ she finally concluded.