The Italian's Touch (Promotional Presents)

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The Italian's Touch (Promotional Presents) Page 5

by Carol Marinelli


  Fleur nodded. ‘One set of her teeth was hanging out and the other was obstructing her airway. So I cleared the obstruction, laid her flat, suctioned her airway, inserted an airway and administered some oxygen, and then I put her into the recovery position. Then I went to press the emergency button. You came in then.’

  Mario nodded. ‘And in that time did you freeze or panic? Did you compromise your patient’s safety?’

  ‘No,’ Fleur said slowly, blinking a couple of times as realisation dawned. ‘In fact, I didn’t even think about Rory—that was my husband—until we were in the resuscitation room. It was then that I froze.’

  ‘No,’ said Mario, again correcting her. ‘It was not until she was safely in Resus and you had put out an emergency call and other staff were present that you naturally started to relax and think about your husband. But even then you stayed until Danny was present.’

  ‘But you had to shout at me to get me to pull up the drug.’

  Mario grinned. ‘I shout a lot in there, and if you spend some time with me you’ll learn not to take it to heart. Anyway you responded. You did pull up the drug. Never once was Mrs Green’s safety put in danger. My argument is that, had I known, I could have made things a bit easier for you, or at least been aware that it was more than first-day jitters.’

  Fleur hadn’t thought of it like that, yet she still found it impossible to just forgive herself. ‘Even so, maybe it is too soon to be back.’

  ‘No!’ His words were sharp. ‘There will never be a perfect time, given what has happened to you. But if Emergency is where you want to be, and with the staff looking out for you, supporting you, you will be magnifico.’

  Fleur grinned. ‘A slight exaggeration, I think.’

  ‘Not at all. You are far too hard on yourself. Are you a robot, a machine? No, you are a woman.’ He gave her a slow grin. ‘I apologise again—that might sound sexist with your strange laws here. You are a human being with feeling is what I am trying to say, and probably a better nurse, too, for the pain you have suffered. Don’t let all that knowledge go to waste.

  ‘Now, to show that I am sincere in my apology and to extend the hand of friendship as I feel we got off to rather a poor start, I would like to issue an invitation to you.’

  Fleur opened the envelope he handed her with a sigh. Surely not another grief counsellor’s business card? She could line the walls with them. It was almost as bad. ‘Tickets to the football?’

  ‘I was going to take my brother-in-law and nephew, but they refused as their team is playing at Colonial Stadium. I remembered that Alex likes the Richmond Tigers also, and I wondered if you two might like to join me?’

  Fleur shook her head firmly. ‘It’s very kind of you, but football’s really not my thing.’

  ‘I understand that—you made it very clear this morning. But if you would at least look at the tickets, you will see they are for a corporate box. The company that has invited me is having a family day and there will be other children going. You will be wined and dined, you don’t even have to look at the game, and Alex will have the time of his life, watching the footy.’

  He pronounced it footee and Fleur found herself smiling.

  ‘I really can’t. People might talk…’ She was scraping the barrel for excuses now!

  ‘Then let them talk! What would they say? I have already gone out with most of them already. I fully intend to make the most of my year here and see everything this city has to offer, and many of your colleagues have accompanied me on my sightseeing trips. Now, the MCG is, I hear, the Mecca of sport for Melburnians. I simply cannot miss it. If it makes you feel any better, Delorus and I are going out on Friday to a restaurant in Chinatown, you and me to the footy on Saturday and then Frank and I are playing bowls on Sunday. So you see, it is all innocent. We really won’t set tongues wagging.’

  Fleur laughed, thinking of Delorus telling the world about her ‘date’. ‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’

  ‘So you will come, please? It would make me feel better and Alex would enjoy it, no?’

  ‘Yes.’ Realising her mistake, Fleur hastily continued. ‘I meant, what you should have said is that Alex will enjoy it, yes.’

  ‘And you are going to join me?’

  ‘No.’

  But under that blue gaze her resolve was weakening.

  He gave her the cheekiest of grins. ‘What you should have said is that Alex will enjoy it so yes.’

  Fleur knew when she was beaten. ‘Your English is better than you make out, I think.’ The tickets were hot in her hands, his eyes burning into her as he awaited her decision. ‘All right, then, I’ll come,’ she said, watching as his grin widened. ‘But I’m warning you, Mario, I really don’t like the football!’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  FLEUR didn’t deliberately not tell Kathy about Mario’s invitation, but she most certainly didn’t volunteer the information. Of course, though, once she’d told Alex and he in turn excitedly told the whole school and anyone else who happened to be passing, it was only a matter of time before a rather indignant Kathy demanded to know how come she was the last to know.

  ‘Because it’s no big deal,’ Fleur said, calmly filling the kettle. ‘He had some extra tickets and he knew Alex supported Richmond. Anyway, he felt awful for what he said at Auskick, though he had no reason to. That’s all there is to it. I don’t even want to go.’

  ‘And you expect me to swallow that? Come on, Fleur, you must be at least a bit excited?’

  ‘No.’ Fleur answered truthfully—‘terrified’ would be a more apt description.

  ‘Well, I would be. How long does a match go on for? Two hours, plus the half-time break, pre-match drinks and all that. That’s three hours in the dashing Mario Ruffini’s company.’

  She meant well, Fleur reasoned, suddenly tempted to gag Kathy with the teatowel.

  ‘What are you wearing?’

  ‘Jeans, I guess.’

  ‘Fleur!’ Kathy sounded horrified. ‘It’s a corporate box you’re going to. You’ve really got no idea, have you? You’ll have to wear a suit.’

  ‘To the football? I don’t even own a suit, and I’m definitely not going to buy one.’

  Famous last words. Picking Alex and Ben up at three-thirty, she rather guiltily stuffed her bulging carrier bags into the boot before she walked over to the school playground. A small fortune had been spent on the most gorgeous camel-coloured suit and the softest suede loafers, and then, when there had been no turning back, it had seemed rather pointless not to buy the cream camisole to wear underneath.

  Bowling parties, extravagant suits, going back to work—it was costing her a small fortune. At this rate she’d be putting her hands up for extra shifts.

  But it was worth it, Fleur admitted when she dressed on Saturday and stood in front of the mirror. For once her hair had behaved and hung in a straight blonde curtain, not a kink or frizz in sight—possibly thanks to the ridiculously expensive hair serum that had found its way into her shopping trolley.

  ‘You look great, Mum. Is that new?’

  ‘No,’ Fleur lied, crossing her fingers as she did so. ‘I just haven’t worn it in ages. You don’t look so bad yourself.’ Wearing dark trousers and a smart blazer, he looked the image of his father and Fleur swallowed a lump in her throat. Alex didn’t notice, instead screwing up his nose as he looked down at his attire.

  ‘I’d rather be wearing my footy jumper,’ he said for the hundredth time.

  ‘Alex, we’re going to a corporate box. Now, you remember what I said about behaving. No shouting—’

  ‘OK, OK.’ At the sound of a car pulling into the drive, Alex made a dash for the window. ‘He’s here. Nice car!’

  Letting him in, Fleur brushed off Mario’s extravagant compliments.

  ‘Fleur, you look magnificent—bella!—and, Alex, you look so smart and handsome.’

  ‘I wanted to wear my footy jumper but Mum said no.’

  ‘I know,’ Mario sighed dramatically. ‘But look.’
And lifting up his smart beige trousers, Fleur couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the sight of his solid calves encased in yellow and black footy socks.

  Alex was won over in an instant. ‘Cool! Mum, can I go and put mine on?’

  ‘Well, hurry, then.’

  As he scampered off Mario laughed. ‘He loves his team.’

  Fleur nodded. ‘How come you don’t go for Essendon like the rest of your family?’

  ‘What would we fight over at the dinner table?’

  Despite all her protestations about hating football, in the sumptuous warmth of a corporate box with an endless supply of delicate finger food in one hand and a glass of a delicious fruity Australian red in the other, to Fleur’s utter surprise she felt herself start to relax and enjoy herself. And all this before the starting whistle had even been blown!

  Australian Rules football was taken very seriously in Victoria. It was followed devotedly by all and the weekend’s games were discussed in depth on the following Monday. Tuesday and Wednesday, too, come to that. Of course, there was the occasional oddball like Fleur, for whom it held absolutely no charm, but for today at least it had an extra fan. Her nerves at spending so much time with Mario soon vanished as they mingled and chatted with the twenty-five or so other guests.

  ‘Mum, they’re doing a sweepstake—five dollars each.’ Alex held his hand out excitedly.

  ‘You’re too young to bet,’ Fleur pointed out. ‘But I suppose I can put a bet on for you.’

  ‘You have to have a bet, too,’ Mario insisted. ‘I say Tigers by twelve points.’

  Fishing in her purse, Fleur pulled out a ten-dollar note. ‘Who are they playing?’

  Mario looked at her, aghast. ‘You mean you don’t even know? It’s the Sydney Swans.’

  Fleur gave him a defiant look ‘Well, then, the Swans by ten points.’

  Shaking his head Mario wrote down her prediction. ‘And what about you young man?’

  ‘Tigers by fifty points.’

  Fleur handed over her money. ‘Well, I can kiss that goodbye.’

  It was a good game, Fleur grudgingly admitted afterwards. In fact, it was a great game. Despite her earlier warnings to Alex to sit and behave, when the Richmond Tigers had surged ahead in the final quarter and kicked five goals straight at six points apiece, the whole corporate box, Fleur included, had erupted into a fury of excited cheers and yells. The final siren had heralded a fifty-six-point win and it had been Alex who’d screamed the loudest when, as the person with the closest prediction, he’d won the sweepstake.

  ‘I’ve won one hundred and twenty-five dollars!’ Rushing over to his new-found friends, they all started to work out just what Alex could do with his new-found fortune.

  Mario looked over at Fleur and smiled warmly. ‘He’s had a great day.’

  ‘Thanks to you. There haven’t been too many of them lately.’

  Leaning over, he topped up her wineglass. ‘It must have been tough on him.’

  Fleur nodded. ‘He keeps it all in, but I know he’s hurting.’

  ‘Is he seeing anyone?’

  ‘No, he did at first. He used to go to a counsellor once a week, but it seemed to make things worse. I thought that he’d started to pick up a bit, but recently he’s seemed to be going backwards.’

  ‘In what way?’

  Fleur hesitated before continuing. Kathy was really the only person she really discussed this sort of thing with, but under Mario’s steady gaze she found herself starting to confide, to loosen up and share her concerns.

  ‘Well, he’s so anxious—about everything. He’s not making many friends—you know, on his own at playtime, not asked to parties, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Doesn’t Ben play with him?’

  ‘A bit, but generally he’s off with his own little gang.’

  ‘Ricky’s having a party soon. I’m sure he can ask Alex along without making it a big deal.’

  Fleur shook her head. ‘No, please, don’t. I hear Ricky’s having a sleep-over. Alex can’t go to one of those.’

  Mario’s forehead creased. ‘Teresa, my sister, is very responsible—’

  ‘I’m sure she is,’ Fleur interrupted quickly. ‘It’s just that Alex…well, he wets the bed.’

  ‘Since his father died?’ Mario’s voice was very gentle and Fleur felt her shoulders, which had automatically stiffened as she’d told him, suddenly relax.

  ‘Well, it started then, but he did become dry about six months ago. He was doing so well, but in the last week or two it’s flared up again. I think it might be due to me going back to work.’

  ‘What does his GP say?’

  ‘I haven’t taken him yet,’ Fleur admitted. ‘Like I said, it’s only just started again and I was rather hoping it was just a relapse. My GP’s on holiday for a couple of weeks and I didn’t want to take him to a locum.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Mario said. ‘But before you put it down to anxiety you have to rule out the basics. Drop a fresh urine specimen in tomorrow to the lab—I’ll leave a slip with them.’

  ‘But you’re off this weekend, and he’s not complaining of any stinging or anything like that.’

  ‘Doesn’t mean that he hasn’t got an infection. It’s no big deal. I can drop off the slip first thing tomorrow, and then by Monday or Tuesday at the latest we’ll have the results. If it is an infection we’d better get onto it straight away. If not, we can take it from there.’

  He was right, of course, and Fleur gratefully nodded. ‘Thanks again. I’d better round up Alex.’ She made to stand up but Mario put out his hand, gently brushing her arm as he did so.

  ‘I hope you weren’t planning to leave before the scones and cream.’

  Fleur groaned. ‘Not more food. I honestly couldn’t eat another thing.’ But as Mario spooned generous amounts of strawberry jam and thick dollops of cream on the warm scones, Fleur weakened. ‘Well, maybe just one.’

  ‘I told you you didn’t need to enjoy football to come here.’

  ‘You realise, don’t you, that all this spoiling is going to make it even harder for me to stand out there in the stands next time Alex begs me to go to the football?’

  ‘In that case, I’ll have to try and rustle up more tickets.’ It was a casual remark, hardly meriting another thought. So why, then, wondered Fleur as they walked through the muddy car park, was she behaving like Alex and trying to work out how many matches were left in the footy season? Why did she want to grab Mario’s arm like a spoilt seven-year-old and ask When?

  Even the ride home was fun, with Mario hanging his footy scarf out of the window so it trailed behind them as they drove along, prompting other Richmond fans to hoot their approval as they passed them. Fleur leant back against the soft leather seats, turning slightly so she could answer Alex’s never-ending stream of questions from the back seat. The angle allowed her more than a glimpse of Mario, and Fleur drank it all in—the strong features, the long straight nose, thick dark eyebrows and even thicker eyelashes. Her eyes flicked down to his hands. Beautiful hands, she found herself thinking. Veins thick beneath the olive skin, white neat nails, a heavy gold bracelet around his wrist. Normally Fleur didn’t like jewellery on a man, but this suited Mario. A flash of extravagance on him seemed somehow fitting.

  As the car pulled up in her drive and Mario said his goodbyes to Alex, Fleur was suddenly hit with a longing for the day not to end.

  ‘Do you want to come in for a coffee?’ Her voice was casual but she found herself holding her breath as she awaited his answer.

  ‘A coffee would be perfect.’

  ‘I can show you my footy stickers.’ Alex’s eager voice chimed in.

  ‘That would be great.’

  Fleur couldn’t help but feel disappointed that Mario greeted the prospect of the footy album with the same enthusiasm as her invitation for coffee. She left them to it, the two of them poring over various sports stars as she tackled the filter machine. The wine was definitely catching up with her, Fleur realised when sh
e saw clear water gushing into the glass jar. Hastily she put a few generous scoops of coffee into the filter. Even filling the sugar bowl was an event in itself. What on earth’s the matter with me? Fleur scolded herself as she wiped up a sticky mess of sugar from the kitchen bench.

  ‘Smells good.’ Mario joined her in the kitchen with a yawning Alex by her side.

  ‘I’m tired, Mum.’

  Fleur thought for a moment she was hearing things. Alex could be asleep on his feet and insist he was fine. ‘I think I might go to bed.’

  ‘But it’s only seven o’clock.’ Fleur protested, butterflies suddenly appearing as she realised her only ally was about to abandon her.

  Mario ruffled the small boy’s hair. ‘It’s been a pretty exciting day, hasn’t it? I’m worn out, too.’

  Alex nodded. ‘Thanks for taking me, Mario. It’s been great. I can’t wait for Monday to tell all the kids at school.’ He gave Fleur a kiss. ‘’Night, Mum.’

  ‘’Night, darling. I’ll come and tuck you in in a moment.’

  Never had making a simple cup of coffee seemed so complicated. She could feel his eyes on her as she poured the brew into the two cups and went through the milk and sugar routine. ‘I should have some biscuits here somewhere—if Alex hasn’t swiped them,’ she mumbled. All that was left were some green iced dinosaur shapes but such were her nerves at suddenly finding herself alone with him that Fleur hardly noticed as she arranged them on a plate. ‘How was your night out with Delorus?’

  ‘Even more exhausting than today. I don’t know where she gets her energy. I’ll be a wreck by Monday.’

  Fleur laughed, thinking of Delorus’s HRT comment. ‘The weekend’s still young yet.’

  ‘Is it?’ His deep voice stopped Fleur in mid-laugh. For a fraction of a second she caught his eye and there was definitely a frisson of something dangerous and exciting in the look that passed between them.

  ‘I mean, you’ve got bowling with Frank Hadley tomorrow,’ she said quickly, grabbing a biscuit from the plate and taking a hasty bite.

  ‘Ah, yes, I forgot.’ His face was suddenly a picture of concern as Fleur grimaced. He was over the room in a second. ‘Fleur, are you all right? Did something I say upset you again?’

 

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