Love Island

1. My messed up life

"Papa," I start, getting my dad's attention. "She's doing it again." My dad instantly puts down his book and follows me out to the garden, where my mum is standing there with a blanket over her shoulders.

He slowly walks up to her whilst I stay by the back door, knowing that she won't want to be crowded. "Maria, it's me, Antonio." He says calmly, placing his hand on top of hers. "You need to come inside now." She stares at him for ages, not saying a word. Eventually, she turns back to how she was standing when we came outside. "Maria, sono io, Antonio." This time she looks at him and recognises him.

"Antonio." She whispers, placing the palm of her hand on his cheek. Next, she turns her attention to me. "Violetta." She smiles warmly, and I smile back, glad that she recognised me this time. "I need to go inside."

"That's right." Dad agrees, then puts his arm round mum's shoulder and helps her back into the house. When they get back inside he sits her down on the sofa, making sure she's alright. But something catches his eye behind me and he quickly says, "Violetta, take Sofia into the other room."

I turn around quickly and see my daughter looking at my mum with a sad expression. "Come on, Sofia, let's go upstairs." I say before ushering her out of the room. As we climb the stairs, I know trying to change the subject won't work, but I give it a go anyway. "So, how was school today?"

She doesn't answer, instead she waits until we get to the top of the stairs before saying, "Nonna's not getting better, is she?"

I squat down and take my daughter's hands in mine. "I know sometimes she can't remember who you are, but that doesn't mean that she doesn't love you." Looking her in the eyes, I give her hands a little squeeze, "because she does. She really loves you, Neonata."

"I know." She smiles a little, "it's just scary." When she says this, I instantly give her a big hug, hating that my baby girl feels scared. But I don't blame her, I'm twenty four and I get terrified when I see my mum like that, so I hate to think how a six year old would feel.

I lift her up and carry her from the top of the stairs to our bedroom. Our family isn't very wealthy, most of the money we earn we spend on trying to get my mum better. So we could only afford a three bedroom house. My mum and dad share one room, Sofia and I share another, and the third room is my brother's; when Sofia was born I thought it would be her room, but mum gets a little angry if you touch anything in that room. "So, Neonata, why don't we watch a film?" I ask, and she nods her head enthusiastically so I turn the TV on and put on a movie for us to watch together. "Do you want me to put the subtitles on?" I ask her, and she nods her head again.

Sofia's getting really good at understanding Italian, when I speak Italian to her she pretty much always knows what I'm saying. But I know it's easier for her to speak and read English, because that's what she hears all day at school. And I was exactly the same when I was her age, at school I would speak English then I would come home and speak Italian to my parents until they learnt English. I see so much of myself in her, which makes me unbelievably happy; I'd hate it if she turned out like her dad.

I take a look at my baby girl and see that she's drifting off to sleep, so I put the duvet over her and give her a kiss on the forehead. I then notice my father leaning against the doorframe. "Everything alright?" I ask him.

"She had a flashback to that night again." He tells me, but I already knew that was the case. He then walks into my room and sits down on the corner of the bed. "I'm sorry you and Sofia have to go through this."

"Papa, it's not your fault." I reassure him with a weak smile. "And besides, I'm used to it. Ever since I can remember she's been..." I pause for a moment to think of the right word to use so that I don't sound offensive. "Different. And her mood swings have gotten better since starting ECT."

"I know, which is good because that means Sofia isn't at risk." He shuffles a little closer to me and looks me in the eye, "but her memory is getting worse and worse with every session. After each session we have to jog her memory again, and watch her heart break when she asks where Luca is."

I think about all the times I've had to tell her that her only son died eighteen years ago. Most the time she gets really upset and goes to his bedroom to cry; but when she gets angry, that's when I get terrified. She starts throwing things, and that's why I only tell her what happened to Luca when I know Sofia's not in the house. It's too dangerous otherwise. "I wish she'd remember what happened to Luca so she wouldn't have to keep reliving it." I tell him, and I can tell that he agrees.

"But on the plus side," He starts, looking at Sofia who's fast asleep on her side of the bed. "At least we can lie to her about Sofia's dad." I glance at Sofia and smile a little, feeling so much love for my little girl.

"That one time we told her the truth, I thought she was going to try hunt him down." I scoff a little at the memory, mum was so angry when I told her but I was half hoping that she would find him and give him a piece of her mind. Lucky for him I don't know his name so mum couldn't find him. "It's definitely better to let her believe it was a drunken mistake."

I face my dad again, who gets distracted by my phone pinging. He picks my phone up and hands it to me, "it's an email from the casting directors for that show." I take my phone off of him and unlock it. "What does it say?"

"Papa, how many times have I told you, I'm not going on a dating show." I scoff, opening the email. But as I read the first few sentences I realise how wrong I am. "Oh my god, they want me to be on the show."

"That's great." He beams, pulling me into a hug. "Aren't you glad I signed you up?" He comments, and no matter how many times he tells me that it's about time I get myself a boyfriend, I can't help but think that any guy I might be interested in will probably run for the hills as soon as they realise that I'm a mum.

"Are you sure you can look after mum on your own?" I ask him, and he raises an eyebrow mentally telling me that he's perfectly capable. "And you're sure that Nonna is fine with looking after Sofia?"

"I'm sure." My dad reassures me, "and it'll do Sofia some good to get out of this crazy house for a few weeks. That's one of the reasons I signed you up in the first place, so you could live your life and escape, even if it is for only a month or two."

I smile at my father's words, he's always told me that I deserve more than this life, that it's not fair that I have to take care of my mother rather than my mum looking after me. I think he believes signing me up for the biggest dating show in Britain is a good idea, but I couldn't be more terrified.