Dad cups her face, and for several moments, they do nothing but gaze into each other’s eyes. The love they have for one another is palpable. Though I feel a twinge of sadness that I’ll never get to see Dad look at Mum like that again, I’m glad that he’s happy and that he’s found the second love of his life, as Sabella would put it.
Sabella picks up the second gift. “From Rubin.” She turns to him and pinches his cheek.
I’m glad I’m not sitting close enough to get the same treatment when it’s my turn.
“It’s hand-painted silk,” Rubin explains as Sabella lifts up a neck scarf. “Not by me, obviously.”
“It’s lovely!” Sabella runs the silk over her cheek. “So soft. Thank you.” She pinches his cheek again and then grins at me as she opens my gift. “Hand cream. Thank you, Quinn.” She shows everyone the fancy box of three hand creams. “I’m a vet,” she explains to Stefan. “So it feels like I’m constantly washing my hands. Do you have pets?”
“No. We’re not allowed to have any in the shared house. Not that there’s room for any. I’d like a dog one day.”
“Dogs are a good choice if you have the time to walk them and if you’re not going to leave them alone in the house all day. If you’re busy at work all day, you might consider a pet that doesn’t mind being alone.”
Stefan smiles. “Noted.”
“I’d be home.”
Everyone stares at me. Okay, so I did say that out loud.
I rub the back of my neck. “I mean…” I give up because I’m not sure what I meant.
“You come to me for advice when the time comes. I’ll help you find a pet that suits you.” Her eyes sparkle as she winks at me. “Perhaps for both of you. This reminds me, you can get trained service dogs for people with narcolepsy. It’s more common in the US right now, but a few have been trained here.”
“You can?” I ask.
“How would a service dog be able to help Quinn?” Stefan asks.
“They can be trained to notice the signs of an impending sleep attack and then to notify their owner with a lick or a nudge so they can find somewhere safe to lie down. That’s probably not overly useful for you as you do tend to get enough warning, don’t you?”
I nod.
“But they can also fetch medicine and remind you to take it. They can stand guard over you if you have a sleep attack in a public place, get help. Things like that. I imagine they could also help look after you during a cataplexy attack. It might be something for you to think about if you ever decide you’ve had enough of living with seven other people.”
“How do you all cope?” Dad interjects.
“I like it,” I reply. “There’s always someone around during the day, and I’m never alone in the house. That’s comforting.”
Stefan threads his fingers through mine. “It’s certainly never boring.”
“I imagine it gets noisy?”
I almost choke. Most of the noise comes from Hendrix’s room when he’s filming. Funnily enough, neither Stefan nor I mention that.
“It can, but I have good noise-cancelling headphones,” Stefan says.
“Would you like some for your birthday?” Dad asks me.
“That’s okay. Nothing stops me from sleeping, and I don’t mind the noise when I’m awake. Our housemates are amazing.”
“Are you the only couple in the house?” Sabella asks.
“We’re the third.”
“I suppose that’s natural when you’re all cooped up like that. It’s like your own little version ofLove Island. Only in London and with no cameras. How long have you two been dating?”
“It’s our three-week anniversary,” Stefan replies.
I laugh loudly, which makes half my body fall asleep. Our waiter makes a well-timed appearance to take our orders. By the time he gets round to me, I’m able to speak clearly enough to ask for gnocchi.
