It was a short stroll to the beach where they took off their shoes as they negotiated the rather steep descent. As they pulled back an old tea tree, the whole deserted beach lay before them. There was hardly a breath of wind, yet the inky black sea still rumbled loudly as it crashed into the cove, the waves breaking and sending ripples of surf onto the sandy beach. A full moon cast a luminous white glow, and hand in hand they walked through the surf.
‘Zia Rafaella has a granddaughter, Carmella.’
‘Was she the one lined up for you tonight?’ Fleur cast her mind back. ‘I don’t remember being introduced.’
‘No, you wouldn’t have seen her. Carmella is in Italy.’
‘Oh.’
They walked on for a while before he continued. ‘As I said, Zia Rafaella is not a real aunt, she’s a very dear family friend. More than an aunt really. Our families are very close.’
‘And Carmella?’ Fleur’s voice was somewhat strangled but she managed to keep it even.
‘My family arranged a date for me with her. Nothing new in that, of course, except this time it was a bit different.’
‘In what way?’
‘There was a second date.’
Fleur stopped walking, staring up at the huge moon. She knew what was coming next.
‘And a third.’
‘Do you love her?’ It hurt to ask that, hurt more than Fleur could ever have imagined.
‘No, but I do like her.’
‘Don’t tell me.’ Fleur couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. ‘You adore her.’
Mario shook his head. ‘Not even that. But, Fleur, she is a good woman, and had I carried on dating her I would have been expected to marry her. Much as I enjoyed her company, I didn’t want that. But it would have been easy to carry on dating her. I enjoyed her company and we actually did get on. As I told you, my father is sick and he would love to see me married. There was just so much pressure from all corners for Carmella to be the one.’
‘Have you slept with her?’
‘No. I would never shame her like that. Had I slept with her I would have had to marry her. I know this is hard for you to understand, but it’s just the way my family is.’
‘But it’s all right to sleep with me.’
‘Fleur.’ His voice was sharp. ‘I am trying to explain how things are for me back home. I want to marry for love, I want to be sure that I’ve got it right. With my family, with Carmella, it’s all or nothing and then there’s no going back.’
‘So that’s why you came here?’ Fleur was furious now. ‘To prevent you from succumbing to your urges and sleeping with the gorgeous Carmella!’
‘No! I came here because I didn’t love her. Because I knew there was no point in it carrying on.’
His words reached her, calming the anger exploding inside her.
‘I don’t love Carmella,’ he said emphatically, his words finally soothing her. ‘I finished it before I came to Australia. Coming here made things look a bit more respectable for her. I had caused her enough pain, the last thing I wanted to do was shame her. I’m only telling you this because I believe in honesty. Fleur, can’t you see how much you mean to me? If this were just a fling, then why would I jeopardise it by telling you about Carmella?’
‘OK,’ she grumbled, her face breaking into a smile. ‘So you still adore only me?’
Mario took her hand and they started walking. ‘Yes, Fleur, it’s you alone that I adore.’
In silence now, they drifted along. Only when they collapsed against a sand dune, the scratchy pampas grass tickling her bare legs, did they speak again, and then it was the language of lovers entwined, secret whispers that carried in the night air drifting out over the vast ocean. He held her with such veneration, his body adoring her with each sweet kiss, each tender touch. And for the moment at least, Fleur truly believed that, despite the problems they faced, somehow, some way love would provide the answers.
CHAPTER TEN
‘HAPPY birthday to you, happy birthday to you.’
Fleur sat up in bed, smiling brightly as Alex handed her the laden tray. Crunching her way through burnt toast and very milky tea, she read the card Alex had made her and opened her gift.
‘Turkish delight, yum,’ she lied, pulling him in beside her for a cuddle, ‘And the card’s just beautiful.’
‘Perhaps we could go out tonight to the new pizza place?’ Alex asked, ever hopeful.
‘Maybe we’ll do that at the weekend,’ Fleur said, forcing her voice to remain bright. ‘I’m on till four this afternoon so I’ll be tired. Now, you’d better dive in the shower and get dressed. Ben will be here soon.’
Once she could hear the taps running Fleur tipped the tepid tea down the sink and made herself a good, strong, hot coffee. Choosing to read the paper in the kitchen, rather than face the living room and Rory’s picture, she settled down at the kitchen table for now. Her thinking could wait until Ben and Alex were safely off at school.
Kathy arrived bang on time, as cheerful as ever. ‘Look at you, still in your dressing-gown.’
‘It is seven in the morning,’ Fleur pointed out.
‘And no doubt you’ve been lording it with breakfast in bed. Alex told me about his plans. Anyway, I’d better get off. I don’t want Danny to punish me and stick me in the obs ward. I’m ready for some action today.’
‘Well, just make sure the place is quiet by the time I get there,’ Fleur joked. ‘I could use a peaceful afternoon.’
As Kathy made her way down the path she turned casually. ‘I promised Ben I’d take him to the new pizza place for tea. How about I bring Alex along? It will give you a bit of a breather after work. I can drop them off after we’ve all eaten, say around seven?’
‘You’re sure you don’t mind? I’ll shout the boys a burger at the weekend.’
‘Deal,’ Kathy said cheerfully, waving as she climbed into her car. ‘By the way, happy birthday, Fleur!’
As Fleur walked Alex and Ben to their classrooms and said goodbye, all she wanted to do was go home and spend some time alone, but it just wasn’t to be.
‘Fleur?’ Miss Donohoue, the boys’ teacher, called her back as she made her way out of the classroom. ‘I’ve just had a mum who was supposed to be helping in the gym this morning ring and cancel. It’s a shame because the children were really looking forward to it, but I really need another adult to help. Is there any chance you could stay? It will only be for an hour.’
What could she say? The next hour was spent helping eight-year-olds clamber over various pieces of wooden apparatus, and by the time she got home, made the bed and cleared up the extraordinary mess Alex had left in the kitchen, there was barely enough time to jump in the shower and pull on her uniform. So much for a reflective morning, Fleur thought wryly as she drove off to work. Oh, well, at least Kathy had Alex this evening. She would go for a walk on the beach, and when Alex got home he could have an early night for once. She could do her thinking then.
There certainly wasn’t any time for reflection at work. As usual the place was full to the rafters with patients waiting to be moved up to the wards and relatives growing increasingly impatient at the delays.
The relatives weren’t the only tricky customers, she thought as she approached Mario for some assistance. ‘Mr Gordon’s IV has run through. I wondered if you could write up some further orders.’ Fleur handed him the necessary paperwork as he sat ‘on hold’ on the telephone.
‘He’s a surgical patient,’ Mario said crisply. ‘I referred him three hours ago.’
‘I know that,’ Fleur answered patiently, somewhat surprised at his demeanour; Mario was usually more than helpful. ‘He’s been clerked in. Wendy just forgot to write up the IV orders. I’ve tried paging the surgical team a few times, but I can’t get anyone down here.’
‘Then send Mr Gordon to the ward. The doctor can write it up there.’
‘There isn’t a bed for him yet.’ Exasperation was starting to creep into her voice. Fleur really did
n’t have time for this right now.
‘No, I will not hold!’ Cursing, he slammed down the telephone as Fleur stood there, stunned, with the IV sheet in her hand. ‘Excuse me,’ Mario quickly apologised. ‘I have a fifty-year-old unconscious head injury, we have no ICU beds and I am attempting, though not very successfully, to arrange admission to another hospital. Unfortunately the bed manager there seems to think I have nothing better to do than sit and listen to piped music.’
Fleur gave a thin smile. ‘Tell me about it. I have a boss who thinks I’ve nothing better to do than haggle over an IV order. Now, are you going to write it up or not?’
He took the sheet and wrote up the orders in his appalling handwriting, which would take an age to decipher, but in his present mood Fleur thought better than to mention it.
‘Thank you,’ she said curtly as he handed her the sheet.
‘Fleur.’
‘What?’
‘Happy birthday.’
He looked as miserable as she felt, and this time when she smiled it was genuine. ‘Why don’t you try ringing the bed manager from the staffroom? At least you can drink coffee while you’re put on hold.’
‘I think I might just do that.’
That was the last she saw of him. The rest of the afternoon passed in a whirr of chasing beds, doctors and patients’ files, and when the late staff returned from afternoon coffee Fleur was only too happy to hand over to the next shift and head for home.
* * *
Home. Fleur looked up from the beach where she was slowly meandering. She could see it so clearly from her viewpoint on the shore—the white weatherboard house, an array of flower-filled pots brightening the veranda, the tables and chairs where they took their meals. Nothing like the crumbling shed they’d purchased all those years ago. Even the real-estate agent had thought they were crazy when they’d put in their offer. It had been a run-down shack then, damp, with an outside toilet and no kitchen to speak of. But it had bay views, Rory had pointed out excitedly to their parents. And with a helluva lot of work it would be beautiful.
He’d been right. Every cent had been poured into the renovations. Weekends, when normal couples of their age had been out partying, had instead been spent at various hardware stores, or painting, sandpapering and plastering. Doing whatever needed to be done to make their tiny slice of Australia home. Ten years ago today they had put down the deposit and Rory had pulled a tiny box out of his jeans and asked her to be his wife. Tears pricked her eyes as she walked, more purposefully now. They’d had such big plans, so many dreams. They would work like crazy, pay off the mortgage in record time and then—who knew?— maybe private school for Alex, holidays on the Gold Coast. They’d had a whole lifetime glittering before them and they were going to make the very best of it.
She hadn’t wanted to think about Mario today. It had seemed wrong somehow. But as she came to the sand dune where they’d made love, tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks. Would Rory understand? Would Rory approve? She truly didn’t know. Twenty-somethings didn’t talk about death, didn’t discuss the possibility that they mightn’t be around for ever. The chance that one day someone else might be raising the child they loved, holding the partner they cherished. If only she knew how he would have felt about it, maybe then she could move on.
‘Fleur.’ For a second she thought she was hearing things, but as she spun around and saw Mario there she hastily wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I tried the house. When there was no answer I thought that I might find you here. Seems I was right. I was hoping we could talk.’
‘I was just walking, thinking…’ She shrugged helplessly. As much as Fleur normally loved seeing him, she really needed to be alone tonight, with her thoughts, with her memories. If ever she and Mario were going to make it, she needed to make peace within herself first. ‘It’s really not a good time, Mario. Can it wait?’
‘No, Fleur, what I have to say cannot wait.’ His voice was serious and held no hint of negotiation. ‘Let’s walk.’
He held out his hand and Fleur hesitated a moment. Glancing down at her watch, she let out a groan. ‘I’ve lost track of time. Alex will be back soon. We’d better go back to the house.’
But as Mario shook his head Fleur felt anger start to build in her. ‘Don’t worry, he’s staying late at Kathy’s.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I spoke with Kathy. She said she would keep him until you rang—all night if needed. I have thought of everything.’
‘No, you damn well haven’t.’ The anger in her voice surprised even Fleur. ‘How dare you just go ahead and arrange a babysitter? I told you I didn’t want any fuss about my birthday. But, oh, no, you just wouldn’t listen, would you? You had to go right on ahead, ignoring my wishes and making plans. Didn’t it ever occur to you that I meant what I said?’
He looked at her, perplexed. ‘What on earth are you talking about, Fleur?’
‘You know full well, Mario. You think you can swan in and fix everything with that smile of yours and a meal. Well, sometimes it takes a bit more than that, like listening and respecting another person’s wishes.’
How she expected him to react to her outburst Fleur wasn’t sure—an apology perhaps, some contrition at least. Never once did she anticipate the fury in his voice when he spoke.
‘Well, how about you try listening to me? You don’t have the monopoly on grief and problems, Fleur. It doesn’t always have to be about you.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she retorted furiously. ‘I never asked you to come here. I never asked for all of this.’
‘All of what?’
‘This,’ she said, gesturing wildly at the air around her. ‘You think it’s all so easy. That I can just drop everything and fall into your arms and it will all be all right. Well, there’s a lot more to it than that. I have a son, a life. You can’t just upend us both. How do I know you’re not going to swan back to Rome in a few months, back to your precious Carmella? How do I know this isn’t just a holiday romance, a final fling before you tie the knot?’
‘A holiday romance?’ The scorn in his voice was obvious. ‘Is that what you think of me?’
It wasn’t, of course it wasn’t, but anger blurred her senses. ‘How should I know?’ Fleur retorted defensively, two angry spots of colour flaming on her pale cheeks. ‘How do I know that a holiday romance isn’t on your precious list of Melbourne’s ‘‘must dos’’?’
An elderly man, walking his dog, looked over curiously at the couple standing, arguing. ‘We’ll talk at the house,’ Fleur said angrily, and with a toss of her head she marched off, only to be overtaken in an instant as he strode ahead of her.
Fuming, she tried to keep up with his long strides as Mario marched purposefully up the garden path. How dared he barge in on her private time and accuse her of being selfish? She hadn’t asked him to come this evening. In fact, she’d specifically told him that she didn’t want any fuss on her birthday. Why couldn’t he have just left it at that?
They stood bristling with unvented anger in the hallway, the ringing of the telephone an unwelcome diversion.
‘Leave it,’ he snapped, but Fleur shook her head.
‘Some of us have responsibilities.’
It was a cheap shot, and she knew it. Mario was probably the most responsible person she’d ever met. And though she didn’t know quite where the row had blown in from, how they had got to be here, she certainly wasn’t prepared to back down, not yet anyway.
But Mario, Rory, the row, everything all flew out of her head as she heard Kathy’s tearful voice on the other end of the telephone.
‘Fleur, I’ve been trying to ring.’
‘Where are you?’ Fleur felt her stomach turn to liquid, icy fingers of fear clutching at her heart.
‘At the hospital. There’s been an accident. Alex is all right,’ she continued quickly as Fleur sank into the chair beside the telephone.
‘I mean, he’s not seriously injured or anything. He fell off the trampoline. Fleur, I think he’s broken his ankle. They’re doing an X-ray now.’
Fleur didn’t say anything, her hand clutching the telephone convulsively as Mario looked on anxiously.
‘I didn’t want to move him, so I called an ambulance. I could probably have taken him in the car but…’ Her voice trailed off. ‘I’m so sorry, Fleur.’
‘I’m on my way,’ Fleur said, running her tongue over her dry lips as she replaced the receiver. Trying to stand, her legs were shaking so violently she was forced to sit straight back down. ‘Alex has had an accident,’ she said in a flat, hollow voice.
Mario knelt before her, his blue eyes shocked, his voice full of concern. ‘Is it serious?’
She found her feet then, jumping up violently. ‘Of course it’s bloody serious! He’s broken his ankle. Kathy had to call an ambulance.’ She was terrified, confused, spun into panic as she tried to find her handbag. ‘And it’s all your fault. Why couldn’t you just leave it? Why did you have to go butting in, arranging birthday surprises with Kathy? He should have been at home with me!’
The trip to the hospital was a nightmare. Mario point blank refused to let her drive, given the state she was in, so her angry outburst continued unchecked until they screeched to a halt outside the hospital. Not once did he tell her to calm down or answer her furious accusations. Only as she opened the car door did he pull her back for a second.
‘Go easy on Kathy.’
Fleur didn’t answer. She ran through the familiar department, steeling herself—for what, she didn’t know.
‘Fleur, he’s in here.’ Kathy had obviously been crying, her red eyes looking anxiously down the accident department’s polished corridor as Fleur approached. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Pulling back the curtain, Fleur blinked in surprise at the sight of Alex sitting up on a hospital trolley, a huge grin on his face. ‘Hey, Mum, I’m going to get a plaster on my leg.’
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