The Italian's Touch (Promotional Presents)

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘What’s the story?’

  As the paramedics relayed the grim history Danny made a brief appearance. ‘I need more nurses,’ Fleur said urgently. ‘Felicity’s still stuck with Mr Richardson.’

  ‘Has Mrs Holroyd been seen?’

  Danny was really starting to test her patience now. ‘You mean since the last time you popped your head in?’ Opening a chest tube, Fleur never missed a beat as she assisted the doctors. ‘I need some help now, Danny. If you can’t spare anyone, how about you put an apron on?’

  Pointedly ignoring her, Danny addressed Mario. ‘Can you see Mrs Holroyd on the next trolley?’

  Mario pulled the stethoscope out of his ears. ‘Actually, I’m a bit tied up at the moment.’

  The sarcasm was wasted on Danny. ‘The trauma team will have to deal with this. I want Mrs Holroyd seen, she’s in pain.’

  Fleur bit her lip, half expecting a string of Italian expletives to fill the air, but surprisingly the only dramatic gesture was Mario tearing off his gloves in a rather exasperated fashion. ‘Fine.’

  As the morning whizzed on at a frenzied pace, Fleur had little time to dwell on Danny’s black mood. But finally, when Resus, if not empty exactly, was a lot calmer and the chance for a coffee was simply too good to ignore, she sank gratefully into a chair, wishing the coffee-cup she was drinking from was bottomless.

  ‘What gives with your boss?’

  Fleur grinned as Mario entered. ‘Oh, so it’s Danny when he’s being nice and my boss when he’s in a strop.’ She watched as Mario sat down, stretching his long legs out in front of him. ‘I don’t know what his problem is,’ she admitted. ‘I know it’s been really busy this morning, but I’ve seen it a lot worse and normally nothing much ruffles Danny. That’s what makes him such a good emergency nurse.’

  ‘Does he know Vera?’

  Fleur screwed up her forehead ‘Oh, Mrs Holroyd. No, at least I don’t think so. I know it was upsetting, and I wanted her to be seen as quickly as possible. It’s horrible when someone’s in pain, but you saw what it was like— sometimes it’s simply not possible. Danny knows that better than anyone. How is she doing?’

  Mario shook his head. ‘I’ve spoken with the surgeons. They did a CT and the cancer’s everywhere and on top of that she’s now in heart failure. All we can do is keep her comfortable, poor woman.’

  ‘Her daughter’s flying in. Do you think she’ll get here in time?’

  Mario shrugged. ‘Hard to say. I rang the neighbour, Marjory, and explained things. She’s a lovely woman, and she’s going to meet the daughter at the airport and drive her straight here. Hopefully we can get Vera up to a ward soon.’

  Fleur drank the last of her coffee. ‘I doubt it. There’s no beds anywhere. How’s her pain now?’

  ‘Controlled, but let me know if she needs anything stronger. I don’t think this is the time to be holding back on pain control. You won’t be looking after her now, though. She’s been moved out of Resus to cubicle four.’

  ‘Fleur?’ Danny’s bark came over the intercom.

  ‘On my way,’ Fleur answered, pressing the talk-back button.

  ‘Already,’ Mario grumbled. ‘Tell him you’re tied up.’

  Fleur gave Mario the tiniest wink as she made to go. ‘In your dreams, Mr Ruffini.’

  ‘Well, now you mention it…’ Catching her wrist as she brushed past, Mario spun her around. ‘I hear you’re going to be at a loose end next Friday night, so how about you let me spoil you for once?’

  ‘What did you have in mind?’

  ‘Somewhere special, romantic, just us…’

  ‘Fleur!’ Danny sounded as if he was set to come and fetch her himself!

  ‘We’ll talk about it later. I really have to go now.’

  As she walked back to Resus she passed Wendy coming out of the interview room. The fact that the surgeons were talking to relatives so soon could only mean the patient hadn’t made it. Catching a glimpse of Wendy’s reddened eyes, Fleur gave a small smile of greeting, ‘How are you doing, Wendy?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Wendy said stiffly, then flashed a smile. ‘Honestly, Fleur. Look, I’m sorry about yesterday; I was just letting off a bit of steam. You know what it’s like.’

  Fleur did know what it was like. Hadn’t she, too, flashed that reassuring smile and said she was fine when fine was the last thing she’d been? What was it with this place? They were all educated, sensitive people, supposedly this great ‘team’ that supported each other. So why did it sometimes feel so lonely?

  Collecting her bag, Fleur said her goodbyes and made her way through section A. Hesitating outside cubicle 4, she pulled the curtain and saw Danny and Lucy checking Mrs Holroyd’s ID band before administering more morphine. ‘How’s she doing?’

  ‘Holding on for her daughter to get here, I think.’ There was something in Danny’s voice Fleur couldn’t read, and she watched as he gently stroked the frail hand he held beneath his. ‘I’d better get back out, the place is steaming out there. It would have been nice if we could have got her up to a ward. It seems a shame for her to be down here on her own.’

  Fleur put her bag down on the floor. ‘You get on, Danny. I’ll sit with her.’

  Danny looked up. ‘But you’re finished for the day.’

  Fleur gave a small smile. ‘You don’t stop being a nurse just because your shift’s ended. Go on, Danny. I’ll stay.’

  With the curtain drawn, Fleur made herself as comfortable as she could on the hard, cold seat. Taking Vera’s hands, she practised not what she had learned in nursing school but what came instinctively. Talking gently, her fingers occasionally stroking the lined brow, Fleur did what nurses sometimes did: made Vera’s final journey just that little bit easier and a little less lonely.

  And later, as she made her way out into the bright afternoon sun, rushing to pick the boys up from school, Fleur finally knew that she’d been right to come back. It might be one helluva job, but it was hers.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  FLEUR wasn’t sure who was more excited—Alex, at the prospect of his long-awaited first sleep-over, or herself, at the prospect of a night alone with Mario. Over and over he’d reassured her that he didn’t expect anything she wasn’t ready to give. He just wanted a night away on neutral territory, a chance to be themselves without the constant interruptions and inevitable distractions that came hand in hand when you tried to conduct a relationship in a houseful of memories with an inquisitive seven-year-old in situ.

  ‘Where are you rushing off to?’ Kathy asked as Fleur flew into the changing room at the end of her shift on Friday, anxious to cram in her hairdresser’s appointment before the school run.

  ‘Nowhere special. I just want to get a few things done before I pick up the boys. How was Alex this morning?’

  Kathy laughed as she pulled off her jeans and T-shirt and slipped on her uniform. ‘Thoroughly over-excited. Mind you, Ben’s just as bad. I pity Ricky’s parents—and Mario. They won’t be getting much sleep tonight. Hey, maybe we should offer Mario some refuge. He could come on a girls’ night out with us.’

  Fleur suddenly took great interest in fiddling with her hair in the mirror.

  ‘How about it, Fleur? We could go down to the local pub have a bit of a laugh. It’s not every night we both get a babysitter at the same time.’

  ‘Maybe some other time,’ Fleur replied lightly, glad she had her back to Kathy as her face turned puce. The only trouble was, she’d forgotten about her reflection!

  ‘Fleur Hadley, I do believe you’re blushing.’

  ‘I am not.’ Fleur said indignantly.

  ‘Oh, yes, you are! You’re positively beetroot. You always were a useless liar. Come on, you can tell me. What are you up to?’

  Fleur’s silence only confirmed Kathy’s suspicions. ‘You’ve already got a date, haven’t you?’

  Fleur put her finger up to her lips. ‘Shh, Kathy, please,’ she said urgently.

  ‘You dark horse.’ Kathy grinned. ‘How
come you didn’t tell me? Oh, come on, Fleur, who with? And stop shushing me. Nobody’s here and anyway why would they care?’ As the penny dropped, Kathy’s eyes widened like two saucers. ‘Unless, of course, it’s a date with Mario Ruffini!’ She let out a squeal of excitement as Fleur begged her to be quiet.

  ‘Kathy, it’s no big deal, really.’

  But Kathy wasn’t going to let up. ‘Good for you, Fleur. He’s gorgeous. I’m even the tiniest smidgen jealous.’

  ‘Well, there’s no need to be. We’re just going out for a drink, it’s hardly anything to get worked up about.’

  ‘Fleur, this is me you’re talking to. When was the last time you just went out for a drink?’

  ‘All right, all right,’ Fleur relented. ‘Maybe it is a big deal, but you have to promise not to say anything. I mean it, Kathy. I’d die if this got out, it’s just way too early.’

  ‘My lips are sealed.’ Kathy grinned. ‘So long as you fill me in properly tomorrow, and I mean properly. I’ll bring the wine, you provide the chocolate.’

  ‘And you won’t breathe a word?’

  ‘I promise.’

  Picking up her bag, Fleur reluctantly opened the door. Making Kathy cross her heart was probably taking things a bit far, but she suddenly felt exposed.

  ‘Kathy?’

  ‘I promised, didn’t I?’ Kathy said, not looking up as she tied up her shoelaces.

  ‘That’s not what I was going to ask. I guess I’m just going to have to trust you on that one.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘Is there any chance I could borrow your grey shoes— you know, the suede ones?’

  Kathy picked up a hairbrush and laughingly threw it at the door. ‘Get out of here, you scarlet woman, and let the rest of us do some work!’

  * * *

  Shaved, plucked, oiled and scented to within an inch of her life, Fleur threw a long jacket over her dress and dropped off Alex.

  ‘Thanks, Teresa. If there’s any problem, anything at all, please, ring me.’ Fleur’s colour deepened as she continued, ‘I’m having a bit of trouble with my telephone, so here’s my mobile number. I’ll have it on all night so don’t hesitate to ring.’

  ‘Sure, no worries.’ Fleur was positive Teresa gave her a brief wink. ‘Say goodnight to your mum, Alex. I’m sure she’s got things to do.’ Kissing Alex, still blushing furiously, Fleur made her way down the garden path. Kathy knew, Teresa knew. Heaven knew who else was in on it by now. They might as well set up a live telecast at this rate!

  Back home Fleur admired her newly styled hair, her thick blonde locks for once straightened and twisted gently into a chic French roll. Her fringe was glossy and smooth, falling seductively over one eye. All that was needed was a touch more lipstick and then she squeezed her feet into the impossibly slim grey heels Kathy had happily lent her. Finally she was ready, well, almost. Walking over to the mantelpiece, she stood a moment.

  ‘I wish I knew how you felt about this, Rory.’ Looking down at her trembling hands, she focussed on her rings. Here’s the bit the magazines don’t tell you, Fleur thought. Why wasn’t there some sort of etiquette manual for widows that told you what to do on nights like this? How could she sleep with another man while she still wore Rory’s rings? Yet how could she bear to take them off? And if she did take the rings off, what then? What was she supposed to do with them? Toss them into her jewellery box, put them on the other hand? Fleur looked back at the picture, again searching Rory’s features for some clue, some sign, anything that would indicate his take on all this.

  ‘You know I love you, Rory. I always will.’ With a shaking hand Fleur pulled at her rings, but as they reached her knuckle with a sob of frustration she rammed them back down her finger. She just wasn’t ready to leave that part of her behind, at least not yet.

  * * *

  ‘Now will you tell me where we’re going?’

  Mario had taken the beach road and they were obviously heading towards the city. Daylight saving had just started and Melbourne was making the most of it, the beach dotted with couples, children and groups of teenagers, all enjoying the long days. The pavement cafés and pub gardens that whizzed past as Mario put his foot down were all fit to burst with women, gorgeous in pretty short dresses and guys in shorts or suits, taking a moment to enjoy the end of a long week and the start of the weekend. To Fleur’s utter surprise, the nerves that had had her in a spin all week had abated almost as soon as Mario had arrived at her door. Now all she felt was excited, carefree and looking forward to the evening ahead.

  ‘I love this city.’ Mario took his eyes off the road for a second and grinned at her. ‘Everyone here knows how to have a good time. Beautiful restaurants, cafés, bars, the beach.’

  ‘You’d have all that in Rome, though—I mean, except the beach.’

  Mario nodded. ‘Of course. I wasn’t comparing—they are both beautiful cities. I was just saying how much I am enjoying my time here.’

  Fleur leant back in her seat, trying not to let what he’d said niggle at her. ‘My time here.’ She’d known from the day they’d met that he was only there for a year, and for the last couple of weeks the prospect that he would one day be gone had been all too often invading her thoughts. But she wasn’t going to let it spoil tonight. It was just too big a thought to deal with, like an impossible conundrum put before her.

  How could she let herself fall in love, let him into her and Alex’s life, only to lose him. Yet how could she not? He had breezed into her life and in his own unique way given her a glimpse of what life could be like again. How could she turn her back on all the joy he brought, based on the premise that six months down the track she was maybe going to get hurt? For now it was time to simply get to know each other. The hows and whys would just have to be dealt with later.

  ‘Have you guessed yet?’

  As the car turned into Spring Street Fleur let out a moan of delight. ‘The Windsor?’ she gasped as the car glided into the reserved spot, the doorman rushing to assist. ‘I’ve always wanted to stay here.’

  ‘Me, too. I read about it in my Australian guidebook. Apparently it’s almost mandatory—take a tram ride, eat at Chinatown, footy at the MCG, a show at The Arts Centre…’

  ‘Well, I’m glad I’m helping you tick something off your list,’ Fleur said indignantly.

  ‘If you’d let me finish, I was about to add afternoon tea at the Windsor—it’s supposed to be wonderful. I thought we might take it up a notch. What I have planned for tonight was never on my itinerary. Let’s just enjoy it, huh?’

  How could she not? As the car door was opened and she stepped out, Mario took her arm and they walked together up the steps into the magnificent foyer. Fleur stood gazing at the huge floral display and the vast Milton tiled staircase as Mario dealt with the formalities.

  ‘I’ve booked dinner for eight—I thought that might give us a chance to have a quick drink to unwind. Is that all right with you?’

  She knew she should have been nervous, but as the bellboy deposited their bags on the vast bed and discreetly left, all Fleur could do was gasp in wonder as she looked around the opulent suite at the tasteful rosewood furniture, the huge open fireplace and heavy silk drapes. Even the bathroom was divine, boasting a deep claw-foot bath that seemed to beg Fleur to sink into it.

  ‘Magnifico,’ Mario murmured, gazing out the window overlooking Treasury Gardens. Turning, he expertly opened the bottle of champagne that awaited them. ‘But all this would mean nothing if you weren’t here with me.’

  ‘Flatterer.’ Fleur grinned, holding out her hand for the glass of champagne he was offering.

  As their glasses chinked she caught his eye. ‘To us,’ he murmured softly.

  Holding his gaze, she wrapped her fingers tightly along the long stem of the crystal glass. ‘To us.’ Her voice was almost a whisper, the cool champagne a heady contrast to the heat sizzling between them. A drink to unwind was the misnomer of the century, judging by the crackling tension that hummed in
the room. Taking the glass from her hand, he placed it on the table before slowly, deliberately he moved towards her, his lips drawn to hers as if by some unseen force. She could taste the champagne as his cool tongue met hers, feel the heat between them as they pressed their aching groins towards each other, his arousal straining against her flimsy dress.

  But she needed more.

  He felt it, too.

  As they fell down onto the chaise longue he could feel his manhood against her, and she instinctively lifted her leg, wrapping it around his hips, pulling him ever tighter to her. But just as being wined and dined was becoming a distinct impossibility the shrill sound of her mobile had Fleur rummaging for her bag.

  ‘It might be about Alex,’ she explained as she desperately tried to locate the phone.

  Mario coughed and stood up, subtly rearranging his attire as Fleur mumbled ‘yes’ and ‘no’ into the mobile. Finally she concluded the call and with a wail of frustration hurled the beastly thing onto the bed.

  ‘Alex?’ Mario asked.

  ‘No,’ she snapped in frustration. Starting to laugh a touch hysterically, she picked up her glass of champagne as Mario joined her, a bemused grin on his face.

  ‘Then who?’

  ‘Just this blessed woman from the school uniform shop who keeps hounding me! Aren’t I allowed to have a life?’

  Dinner was divine. Fleur felt impossibly spoilt as waiters unfolded huge white napkins in her lap and filled her glass. They lingered over their aperitifs, enjoying the elegance of the grand dining room, groaning with the weight of indecision as they pondered the menu. But as the evening progressed, and their plates were cleared and desserts finally chosen, Fleur looked up. The bluest, kindest eyes were smiling at her, adoring her, and under his steady gaze Fleur truly felt beautiful. The food, the service, the grandeur of the surroundings had all played their part but it was this sensual, thoughtful man that had the lead role. And finally, like the mist clearing on a mirror, she saw him as if for the first time, saw how good life could be with a man like Mario at her side, if only she let him in.

  ‘You said to tell you when I was ready.’