The Italian's Touch (Promotional Presents)

by Carol Marinelli

  Crossing a playground was quite a hazardous task when two hundred and fifty over-excited school children were running at great speed across your path. By the time she’d made it to the flagpole, Mario and Ricky were calmly walking hand in hand to the car park. Oh, well, it would keep until tomorrow.

  The boys were in great spirits, and for once Fleur relented and let them play cricket outside instead of tackling their homework. Only when Ben had been fetched by Kathy and they had the place to themselves did Fleur tell Alex the news and collect the sample before she gave him his first tablet.

  Surprisingly, Alex seemed delighted at the news he had an infection. ‘So it’s not my fault that I’m wetting the bed?’

  Fleur shook her head, glad at least that one of them was pleased.

  ‘And the antibiotics will fix it?’

  ‘Yes. But as I explained, you’ll have to have a few tests and see a specialist. Infections like this are a bit more uncommon in boys than girls, so the doctor will just want to check that everything is in good working order and make sure there’s no underlying problem that’s causing you to get an infection.’

  ‘The same tests I had when I first started wetting?’

  ‘Mostly.’

  Alex grinned. ‘Well, I had two kidneys then. I remember the doctor showing me and he said everything else was normal. I bet it’s all fine.’

  It was like a bucket of water being poured over her. Why had it taken a seven-year-old to state the obvious, when his own mother a qualified nurse at that hadn’t even thought it? Sure, the tests might show up something, but her nightmarish visions of missing kidneys and malformed ureters were completely unfounded. She was completely and utterly overreacting. Sure, a urinary tract infection wasn’t good news exactly but she was being a touch dramatic. Mario had definitely been right.

  Her chance to apologise didn’t have to wait. Just as she was surveying the fridge and wondering what to cook, the phone rang. Mario’s accent was instantly recognisable, but his agitated ramblings weren’t.

  ‘I am sorry to disturb you, I am just so confused.’

  ‘Mario, I’m actually glad that you did. I was hoping to see you at the school. I really am sorry about earlier. I know you were trying to be nice and help.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. I really need your help.’

  ‘My help?’ Fleur pulled the receiver from her ear and stared at it for a second. ‘Why?’

  ‘Have you seen the children’s homework tonight?’

  She had to strain to catch what he was saying.

  ‘Mario, why are you whispering?’

  ‘Because Ricky is in the other room, waiting for me to come and help him. I am a doctor, yes? Supposedly clever, yes? Yet I can’t help a seven-year-old with his homework.’

  Reaching over the bench, Fleur unzipped Alex’s schoolbag, retrieving his homework book and flicked through it.

  ‘What is this ‘‘Stitch in time saves nine’’? And ‘‘A rolling stone gathers no moss’’?’

  Fleur started to laugh as she understood his utter confusion. ‘They have to explain the meaning of these proverbs, like the one I told you about at Auskick.’

  ‘That much I understand, but listen to this one. ‘‘A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.’’ What the hell are they going on about?’

  Trying and failing not to gurgle with laughter at his bemusement, Fleur forced herself to stop when she heard his hurt voice on the other end of the line.

  ‘You’re laughing at me! If that’s the reaction from a full-grown woman, can you just imagine what Ricky is going to do? This whole evening has been a disaster. I promised him some good Italian carbonara and I forget to get eggs, and now this!’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Fleur pulled a poker face, as she wiped away a tear. ‘Look, bring Ricky over here and the boys can do their homework together. I’ll make dinner, though heaven knows what. My routine has vanished since I went back to work. Maybe we can ring for a pizza?’

  ‘You have eggs?’

  Even that sounded funny at the moment but Fleur managed not to slip back into her earlier hysterics. ‘Yes, I have eggs,’ she replied, but the humour was wasted on him.

  ‘Then I shall bring the rest of the ingredients and while you help the boys I will make dinner.’

  ‘Sounds great.’

  Which gave her about eight minutes to do the quickest tidy in history, brush her hair and teeth and apply a quick slick of lipstick. Alex pulled her up just as she was spilling a bottle of perfume over her wrists.

  ‘What are you doing, Mum?’ Alex asked accusingly.

  ‘Nothing.’ She flushed guiltily. ‘Just making the place presentable. Mario’s bringing Ricky over to do his homework with you.’

  ‘So why are you putting on perfume?’

  Why indeed? Thankfully she was saved from answering by the doorbell.

  ‘Where’s the car?’ Alex asked as they traipsed in, laden with bags.

  ‘We walked,’ Ricky said moodily.

  ‘Of course we walked. Fleur and Alex are just ten minutes away. We’re practically neighbours.’ Handing her a brown paper bag with a bottle inside, they all made their way into the kitchen.

  The next half-hour was spent with Fleur yet again explaining proverbs as Mario noisily busied himself banging saucepans, chopping onions and mushrooms with lightning speed and generally creating a pretty stunning backdrop.

  ‘‘‘Home is where the heart is’’?’ Ricky said chewing on his pencil.

  ‘Well…imagine you’re on camp,’ Fleur said, thinking on her feet.

  ‘Huh! I wouldn’t be allowed to go.’ Alex chimed in.

  ‘Imagine you were, and you were allowed to ring home. You might be missing me. And if you were a bit quiet later that evening, it might be because you were thinking about home and your nice things and the people you love. And even though you were having a great time at camp and enjoying being with your friends, you’d realise that what makes a home is the people you love. That’s where your heart is.’

  Alex gave her a horrified look as Ricky laughed, egging him on. ‘No way! I’d be enjoying camp too much.’

  ‘OK, bad example. Um, I know, take Mario! He might be living in Australia at the moment and having a wonderful time, but say he had a lady friend in Rome that he was in love with and missed a lot.’

  The boys started whistling and cheering as Mario dramatically put his hand to his heart and pretended to wipe away a tear.

  ‘Well, his heart would be in Rome with his lady friend. Rome would be his home because that’s where his heart belongs.’

  ‘So what do we write?’ Ricky asked, his pencil poised.

  ‘Work it out for yourself.’ Fleur grinned. ‘You know what it means now.’ Crossing the room, she watched as Mario stirred the creamy sauce. ‘That smells marvellous. The boys are just finishing up. I’ll lay the table.’

  Pulling a corkscrew out of the drawer, she opened the paper bag. ‘Cranberry juice!’

  Mario gave her an apologetic grin. ‘It’s supposed to be great for the urinary tract—he should drink some every day.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Rummaging in a carrier bag, he pulled out another bottle and with a wink he handed it to her. ‘It’s a little bit darker in colour than the cranberry juice but a lot more inviting. I think you deserve it after tackling all those proverbs.’

  ‘I’ll say.’

  Dinner was delicious, the wine was gorgeous, the kids’ manners were atrocious and it was the best meal Fleur had enjoyed for ages. They talked and laughed and told stupid jokes—and that was just the adults. So engrossed in each other were they that Fleur hardly noticed when the boys scampered off to the study to use the computer. Naturally they had a coffee, and then another, and by then the news had started so they drifted through to the lounge and caught up on world affairs, finding out each other’s political persuasions and the like.

  It was only when Ricky and Alex appeared yawning and obviously worn out that they realised th
e time.

  ‘Teresa will never forgive me, keeping him up till ten on a school night.’

  Bundling him out of the door, Mario turned. ‘Thank you, Fleur, for your help.’

  ‘No, Mario, thank you, and sorry about earlier.’

  He flicked his hand dismissively, his gold bracelet catching the light. ‘I enjoy a little row now and then, and with a feisty lady like you I guess I’d better get used to it.’

  He kissed her on both cheeks, a ritual she was coming to appreciate more and more by the day. She closed her eyes as his lips brushed her cheek, filled with a desire to once again feel his lips on hers, her breathing quickening at the physical contact.

  ‘Come on, Uncle Mario.’

  There was no repeat of the other night—their audience put paid to that—but Fleur knew, just knew that he wanted her lips on his, too. ‘What are you on tomorrow?’ Mario asked gruffly.

  ‘A late shift. You?’

  His eyes bored into hers. ‘I’m sure I can find a reason to hang around.’

  Fleur’s eyes boldly held his gaze as he awaited her response. ‘Let’s hope so,’ she replied huskily.

  After getting an exhausted Alex into his pyjamas, and giving him another tablet, for the first time in living memory she didn’t rush off to the kitchen and tidy up, or set about getting everything ready for the morning—it could all wait. Instead, she ran herself the longest, deepest bath and lit a few candles, gazing dreamily at the ceiling as the liquid gold voice of Bocelli filled the steamy air, trying to fathom out why life suddenly felt wonderful…

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE chequered flag wasn’t waved during Fleur’s two-week spell in Resus. The gods that dictated these matters seemed to have colluded to ensure that all the major dramas came in when Fleur was either safely at home or at the very least had made it out to the car park. Sure, there were a few hairy moments, but nothing that really tested her, and gradually with her colleagues’ help Fleur’s inner confidence strengthened.

  So when a multiple injury from a motor vehicle accident was wheeled in early one afternoon, five weeks after Fleur had started back at the hospital, she was able to detach herself enough to deal with the trauma in a calm, professional manner. Even though the patient’s injuries were similar to Rory’s, Fleur was so busy holding the unfortunate woman’s neck in position as she was lifted over onto the bed that she simply didn’t have time to dwell on the fact. In fact, she was so busy pulling up drugs for the anaesthetist, as well as setting up for an emergency chest tube, that by the time the reality of what she’d just witnessed hit home, the patient was being speedily wheeled up to Theatre with Danny and the team of surgeons, leaving Fleur alone in Resus with a grinning Mario.

  ‘You were marvellous,’ Mario enthused as he pulled off his blood-soaked gloves and aimed them at the metal bucket.

  Fleur gave him a cheeky grin. ‘I was, wasn’t I? Danny’s got a meeting with Admin when he gets back and he’s going to leave me with the pager.’ To the uninitiated it didn’t sound like a great deal. But while she held the little black bleeper, it would be Fleur who would coordinate the initial response to whatever came through the unit’s door.

  Mario at once realised the significance of Fleur agreeing to this: she was back in the swing of things, ready to take on the responsibilities of before.

  ‘Now, that really is marvellous.’ He smiled. ‘So marvellous, in fact, that I would go as far as to say the lady deserves a glass of champagne to celebrate.’

  ‘Oh, you would, huh? And what if the lady in question didn’t happen to have any champagne?’

  Mario furrowed his forehead, as if deep in thought. ‘Then I suppose I’d have to go and get some, already chilled, of course, and perhaps bring it around to her home.’

  Until now, Mario had never once pushed her but Fleur could feel the tension building between them—an ever-increasing aura around them, a need to be alone, to explore each other, to see if this really was going anywhere.

  Sure, he had been at her house a couple of times, shared a barbie or three with her and Alex, but it was now time to move things forward. She wanted things to move forward.

  So when Mario offered to bring champagne over, it was a slightly nervous Fleur that hid behind her fringe as she restocked the IV cupboard. ‘Perhaps around nine—that way the lady could be sure her son was in bed.’

  Peeking out from behind her blonde curtain, she saw the huge smile on his face. ‘You’re sure?’ he checked tentatively, unable to keep the note of excitement out of his deep voice.

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘I’m bringing a child down from Section B.’ Felicity’s voice, crackling over the intercom, made them both jump. It had that note of urgency that needed no further explanation. Fleur’s reflexes were like lightning. Felicity rushed past and laid a naked boy down on the resus bed as Fleur checked his vital signs. Looking over the bruised, bleeding body, she saw that the child was breathing, but only just. His pulse was difficult to palpate and extremely rapid and thready. Mario was already tying a tourniquet around the limp, pale arm and trying unsuccessfully to establish IV access.

  Suctioning the patient’s mouth to remove some secretions, she inserted an airway and placed a paediatric oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.

  ‘What the story?’ Mario asked, as again he attempted to insert an IV bung.

  Fleur was fairly sure she knew the answer to his question already, but the errant nature of Accident and Emergency was yet again rammed home when Felicity answered, ‘The family dog bit him.’ Felicity’s voice was shaking. ‘His mum was lined up at Reception with him wrapped in a towel—she thought that was what you had to do, and, not realising, Reception sent them to me.’

  Which would have been awful for Felicity, Fleur knew. Section B was for the walking wounded. To pull back a towel and see a child in this state would have been a terrible shock.

  Mario swore softly as his third attempt at gaining IV access failed. The boy’s veins were hopelessly collapsed.

  ‘He needs fluids now! I’m going to have to set up for an intraosseous infusion.’

  Fleur nodded, reaching for the rarely used intraosseous pack. ‘Have you seen this used before, Felicity?’ Felicity shook her head as various staff gathered around the bed, attaching the child to monitors, running through IVs. ‘Someone, take the mother to the interview room, get as much information as you can from her—a name for the child, too.’ Felicity made to go but Fleur called her back.

  ‘Felicity, I want you to stay and watch this. Lucy can talk to the mother.

  ‘Now, as you can see, Mario is unable to get IV access. Because the child is so shocked, his veins are very hard to find. Rather than waste time, he’s going to commence what’s called an intraosseous infusion.’ The conversation was taking place as Fleur assisted Mario, passing him an alcohol swab and then the needle. ‘By inserting the needle directly into a bone, in this case the anterior aspect of the tibia, bloods can be taken for cross-matching and drugs given through this route, as well as IV fluids. We can run an infusion directly into the marrow cavity. It’s very effective and very quick, as you can see.’

  Bloods were taken for cross-matching and a plasma substitute was gently pushed through the needle in the child’s leg as the monitors relayed their messages. Mario swiftly assessed the injuries as Fleur relayed his observations. ‘His oxygen saturation was seventy-four per cent on arrival but is now ninety per cent on ten litres of oxygen. He’s tachycardic at one hundred and forty, and his blood pressure is sixty on thirty. Do you want us to emergency page the paediatricians?’

  Mario nodded. ‘His abdomen’s rigid. Get the surgeons down here, too.’

  ‘Right. Felicity, dial triple 0 and ask the operator to fast-page the on-call surgical and paediatric teams to come to Accident and Emergency.’

  Lucy, who had taken the mother off to the interview room, returned with an update. ‘His name is Archie Levitski, and the dog he was bitten by was a pit bull terrier. Apparentl
y Archie must have wandered out into the garden. He was supposed to be having his afternoon sleep and his mother had just hung out some washing. She thought she’d locked the patio door but she must have made a mistake.’

  Mario muttered something rather loud in Italian. Though Fleur spoke not a single word of the language, his utterance left no one in the room in any doubt as to what he’d just said. ‘Let’s get some sterile saline dressings over his wounds. They’re not bleeding much—I expect that’s because he’s so shut down. Undoubtedly he’s bleeding internally. Where the hell are the paeds?’

  Danny came back from Theatre at that moment, but Fleur was too busy to acknowledge his return. Holding the boy’s chin up to maintain his airway, Fleur felt Archie stiffen beneath her. His eyes suddenly opened and then rolled back into his head as he started to convulse.

  ‘Mario, he’s starting to fit,’ she said, rolling Archie onto his side.

  ‘He’s vomiting.’ Mario stated, but Fleur had already seen that coming and she reached for the suction catheter, working quickly in a desperate attempt to prevent Archie from aspirating.

  ‘Valium now,’ Mario barked. ‘Lucy, go back to the mother and find out if he’s ever had a fit before, and find out about any drug allergies. Someone, put out a paediatric crash call.’

  ‘He hasn’t arrested,’ Danny stated calmly. ‘An emergency page would be more appropriate.’

  ‘Maledetto!’ The same expletive that had graced their ears previously again filled the room, only this time it was aimed directly at Danny.

  ‘I don’t believe we have that drug in the trolley, Mario,’ Danny said calmly.

  ‘You expect me to wait until he arrests?’ Mario shouted.

  Fleur never once looked up from Archie. Technically she couldn’t pull rank over Danny—he was in charge after all—but this afternoon she was down for Resus and this little guy was her patient and Fleur was going to do the right thing by him.