The Italian's Touch (Promotional Presents)

by Carol Marinelli

  Luke showed her the X-rays, a tiny greenstick fracture of the left malleolus, which would mean a plaster for six to eight weeks.

  ‘Can I go to school tomorrow and show everyone?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Fleur answered quickly. ‘You’ll need to stay home for a few days at least.’

  But Luke shook his head. ‘Maybe not tomorrow, Alex. You ought really to keep your leg up so that your ankle doesn’t swell, but I’m sure you’ll be right to go back the next day.’ He raised his eyes at Fleur. ‘Boys, huh? They scare the life out of you, don’t they? I’ll see about getting a plaster put on.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Fleur,’ Kathy ventured again. ‘I was watching him. They were just having a bounce on the trampoline and I was just about to call them in for the evening when he fell.’

  ‘Well, if you hadn’t concocted this charade with Mario, it never would have happened.’ Even as she said it, Fleur knew she was wrong, knew she was being unfair. Mario, of course, walked in just as the words spilled out of her mouth. The look he gave her wasn’t particularly pleasant, his face only softening when he saw Alex.

  ‘Hey, sport, what have you been up to? Scaring your mum like that?’

  ‘I’d better go.’ Kathy was struggling not to start crying again. ‘I’ll ring tomorrow, Fleur, see how he is…’ She hesitated in the doorway. ‘I know we’re both off duty tomorrow, but what about the next day? I mean, can I still look after him?’

  Fleur should have reassured Kathy, she knew that. Should have said, Sure, it had been a simple accident, one that could have happened anywhere. But right here, right now, as she struggled with a range of emotions, Fleur simply wasn’t up to putting others at ease.

  ‘We’ll talk tomorrow,’ Fleur said shortly, ignoring the black look Mario threw at her.

  It was a taxi or Mario’s car, and Fleur seriously wished she had chosen the former when she glimpsed Mario’s strained, taut profile as he drove the car to her home. But not once did his voice indicate that he and Fleur were having problems as he chatted amicably to Alex, though Fleur could tell from the white knuckles gripping the steering-wheel that he was far from happy.

  ‘Why don’t you try out the crutches tomorrow?’ Mario suggested gently as he lifted Alex out of the car and carried him up the path. Fleur followed him as he carried Alex through the house and into his bedroom, helping Fleur as they struggled to get his school shorts over the plaster and the tired little boy into his pyjamas. ‘Perhaps give him some paracetamol now,’ he suggested, and when Fleur returned with the tablet and a glass of water she saw Alex, his leg raised on a couple of pillows, listening as Mario read him a bedtime story. Standing in the doorway, looking at them huddled on the bed she felt a sting of tears in her eyes.

  ‘Here’s your tablet, darling,’ she said, making her way over. Alex, exhausted now, was asleep before Fleur had even flicked off the light.

  ‘He’s fine,’ Mario said wearily when they reached the hallway. ‘He’ll be racing about tomorrow on his crutches.’

  ‘I know,’ Fleur admitted. ‘I just got a fright.’ Watching as he retrieved his car keys from his pocket, she suddenly didn’t want him to go. She’d said so many terrible things, things that couldn’t be left to simmer unchecked overnight. ‘Stay,’ she said urgently. ‘At least for a coffee.’

  But Mario shook his head. ‘I really have to go.’

  ‘But you wanted to talk.’

  ‘It will keep for another time. You get some rest. It’s been a big shock for you.’

  He kissed her briefly, and though it wasn’t on her cheek, for the depth of passion behind it, it might just as well have been.

  From her lounge window she watched as his car weaved down the street, his indicator flashing as he turned onto the main beach road, and suddenly she was filled with a sense of dread. A terrible feeling that she’d left it too late and was never going to get the chance to say that she was sorry.

  * * *

  Rory’s parents made Fleur’s reaction the previous night look positively mild. Nothing Fleur said as they sobbed into the telephone could console them. They were old and frail and had lost their only child, so anything that happened to Alex truly terrified them.

  ‘Honestly, Gina, he’s fine. Look, why don’t I bring him over?’ Fleur suggested, rolling her eyes at the thought of a two-hour drive. ‘Of course it’s not a problem. Alex can put his leg up on the back seat for the journey, and then you can see for yourself that he’s OK.’

  Of course, once they were there they ended up staying for the day and Fleur had to field a barrage of questions with as much tact as she could muster.

  ‘You shouldn’t have gone back to work,’ Gina said accusingly. ‘It isn’t right, having someone else to look after your children. It’s not as if you need the money. Rory left you well provided for.’

  ‘I know he did, but work’s important to me, and Alex has really come on since I went back.’

  ‘I wouldn’t call a broken ankle coming on,’ Gina said pointedly as she washed up after the evening meal. ‘If he’d been home with his mother, none of this would have happened.’

  The words were rather too familiar. ‘Kathy’s a wonderful friend,’ Fleur said defensively. ‘She looks after Alex as if he were her own child. It could have happened any time.’ And as the words came out of her mouth the guilt that had been niggling suddenly multiplied dramatically. Imagine if it had happened to Ben while she’d been looking after him? Imagine having to ring Kathy and tell her, and worse, imagine how she would have felt if Kathy had then reacted the way she herself had? She had treated Kathy appallingly and the long drive home gave Fleur plenty of time to dwell on the fact.

  Stopping to fill up with petrol, Fleur bought the biggest slab of chocolate the garage had in stock. Though it was late and Alex should really have been in bed, she pulled up outside Kathy’s and knocked nervously on the door, unsure of her reception.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Fleur blurted out as soon as the door opened. ‘I treated you appallingly.’

  Kathy stood there for a moment, her face unmoved. ‘And you think a bar of chocolate can make up for it?’

  Fleur didn’t know what to say, but as Kathy’s face broke into a huge grin she felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

  ‘Where’s Alex?’

  ‘In the car. He’s fine, though I ought to get him home. I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am.’

  ‘You must be sorry if you were going to give me this huge slab of chocolate and not even ask for a piece!’

  Fleur managed a feeble grin. ‘If that’s what it takes.’

  ‘Don’t be daft.’ Kathy laughed. ‘I’ll just let Greg know where I’m disappearing to. You go and start the car.’

  ‘I really am sorry,’ Fleur said again once Alex was tucked in bed and two huge mugs of hot chocolate were in their hands. ‘I completely overreacted.’

  ‘No, you didn’t,’ Kathy said kindly. ‘Given the circumstances, I think you did pretty well. You’ve had enough bad luck to last you a lifetime. I felt terrible when it happened. It might sound strange and you might not believe me but I’d rather it had happened to Ben than Alex.’

  Fleur nodded. ‘I can understand that. It’s so much harder when it’s someone else’s kid you’re looking after.’

  ‘And ringing you to say there’d been an accident was a nightmare. I knew you’d think the worst had happened, and I can’t blame you, given what you’ve been through. Just when you’d started to let go a bit, loosen up, something like this goes and happens.’ She broke the chocolate bar up and handed Fleur a huge piece. ‘This isn’t going to set you back years, is it? I mean, you’re not going to go all strange again?’

  ‘I’m actually thinking of installing twenty-four-hour video surveillance.’ She grinned when she saw Kathy’s expression. ‘Just kidding. No, as Luke said, he’s a boy and these sorts of things happen. I was actually more worried about him when he wasn’t getting into scrapes. He’s fine, I know that
. It was just coming on top of yesterday. I don’t know if I ever told you but my birthday’s a sort of anniversary for Rory and I—that’s why I try to keep it low key.’

  ‘I had sort of guessed,’ Kathy said gently. ‘That was why I suggested taking the boys to the pizza place—to give you a bit of space.’

  Fleur’s chocolate, which she was dunking into her drink, dropped from her fingers. ‘But I thought you’d arranged it with Mario?’

  ‘Not at all. Mario came by about half an hour before Alex’s accident. He’d been trying to get hold of you all afternoon. He was pretty upset, you know, about his dad and everything. I thought that by offering to have Alex for a while longer it would give you more of a chance to sort things out.’

  The chocolate Fleur had just retrieved with a teaspoon dropped back in the cup with a clatter. ‘Why was he upset about his dad?’

  Kathy looked over, her face aghast. ‘You mean he didn’t tell you?’

  Fleur shook her head. ‘I never really gave him a chance to. Please, Kathy, what’s going on?’

  ‘His dad’s very sick, Fleur,’ Kathy said gently. ‘He had a heart attack yesterday morning.’ She stopped for a moment to let the news sink in before hitting her with the next bit. ‘Mario’s got to fly back to Italy. He wanted to see you, to tell you why he had to go back. He was worried how you’d take it.’

  ‘Oh,’ Fleur moaned, putting her head in her hands. ‘I never even let him speak, just banged on about how difficult it was for me, how he was intruding on my grief, and all the time he was just trying to tell me his father was ill. ‘I thought he was a bit off at work yesterday—I just assumed he was having a bad day. I never for a moment imagined there was such a reason behind it.’ She looked up, tears filling her eyes as Kathy made her way over and put her arms around her. ‘What have I done? He’s never going to forgive me for this.’

  ‘Of course he will, you big pudding. Everyone who knows you knows what you’re like, but we all love you. ‘‘There goes Fleur, jumping in without looking!’’ We’re all used to it now. Mario will understand. And anyway, he’s not going for a couple of days yet so you can still say that you’re sorry.’

  Fleur looked over at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘Do you think I should try ringing him now?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Kathy said thoughtfully. ‘I mean, it’s after eleven. They might get a fright and think that it’s the hospital in Italy ringing or something. I’m sure it can keep till morning. You’re on an early, you’ll be able to talk to him soon.’ Giving her friend a big cuddle, Kathy suddenly laughed. ‘One final thing, Fleur Hadley. If you ever try to tell me it’s no big deal between you and Mario Ruffini, you’re going to lose your chocolate buddy for life. Us married women need a bit of romance in our lives, even if it is someone else’s!’

  Fleur tried to smile, tried to be comforted by Kathy’s reassurances, but the same sinking feeling she’d felt last night came back to haunt her. What if it wasn’t all that simple, what if Mario didn’t want to hear her excuses and couldn’t forgive her selfishness?

  What if, this time, she’d really blown it?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘YOU, my darling, really are a sight for sore eyes.’ Delorus’s beaming grin greeted Fleur as she walked into the department next day.

  ‘I know you’re lying, Delorus. I never slept a wink last night. I must look a real mess.’

  ‘I don’t care how you look, honey. Just the sight of you means that I’m going home soon, though I don’t know why I’m bothering—I have to be back here at ten.’

  Fleur nodded. ‘I know. Danny said that you had a hospital appointment this morning, so if you want to hand over Resus to me and get off home a bit early, that’s fine.’

  ‘Are you sure? You’re not supposed to start for another twenty minutes.’

  ‘Honestly, Delorus, it’s not often I’m early, what with Alex and everything, so why not make the most of it?’

  ‘There’s only the one in there at the moment, a Frank Hadley. No relation of yours, he assures me,’ Delorus added anxiously. ‘Anyway, he came in with chest pain around five a.m. His ECG was inconclusive and we’re awaiting his blood results. Cardiology has seen him and think that he’s probably got angina rather than having a heart attack. He looks too well to be in Resus really but, given the history I think we ought to keep him on a monitor. Once we’ve got the bloods back they’re going to decide where to admit him. Frank insists he’s going home once nine o’clock comes and his pension card gets him onto the bus. He’s a cantankerous old man but a honey really.’

  Delorus loved nothing more than a chat, and would have carried on happily if Fleur didn’t speed things along. ‘Has he had anything for pain?’ Fleur asked, looking at his admission sheet.

  ‘Just two GTN and we’ve put on a patch. He was hypertensive on admission but his blood pressure’s coming down nicely now. There’s no relatives with him, just a brother who lives in New South Wales who must be as old as him so I thought it might be better to wait for the morning before scaring the old boy. Who knows what could happen?’

  ‘Fine. All right, Delorus, off you go.’

  Delorus picked up her bag. ‘One other thing, Fleur. I know it’s more a ward problem, but I’ve been having a chat with Frank, you know, like I do…’

  Fleur grinned. ‘I know only too well.’

  ‘He’s a lonely old boy, a bit down on his luck at the moment. I think there’s a lot of financial problems there, so could you just mention it to the ward staff? Maybe a social worker referral wouldn’t go amiss.’

  Fleur nodded. ‘I’ll pass it on.’

  ‘He also reckons he’s a friend of Mario’s, wants to see him when he comes on. I said to him, ‘‘Honey, don’t we all—?’’’

  ‘Delorus!’ Fleur pointed to her watch. ‘Go!’

  If Delorus was a good talker, Frank Hadley was an expert—a real tough old Aussie battler who, despite the oxygen mask, chattered away in his deep, booming voice.

  ‘Hopefully your blood results shouldn’t be too much longer, but I’ll order you a breakfast from the kitchen just in case,’ Fleur offered.

  ‘Yeah, and charge me a fortune. I’ll ring me neighbour later, she’ll make me up some sandwiches and a Thermos of tea. That’s if I decide to stay,’ he added.

  ‘It’s free, Frank, we don’t charge for meals here.’

  ‘Huh,’ he puffed. ‘I’ll believe that when I see it.’

  ‘Honestly, Frank,’ Fleur assured him. ‘This is a public hospital, you’re not going to get a bill for anything. Now, how about that breakfast?’

  ‘No, thanks, I’ll wait till I’ve spoken to me mate Mario, he’ll give it to me straight. Did you know I was a good friend of your boss? Him and me go bowling together.’

  Fleur suppressed a smile, thinking what an extraordinary pair they must make. ‘He did mention something about it,’ she admitted. ‘Will you at least let me get you a cup of tea? I don’t want Mr Ruffini thinking I haven’t been taking good care of you.’

  That seemed to work and grudgingly Frank accepted her offer. ‘And I suppose I could force down a couple of slices of toast and Vegemite,’ he added, as if doing Fleur a favour.

  As Fleur set about checking the equipment in Resus, Frank tucked into his breakfast. ‘So what time does me mate get in, then?’

  ‘Normally around eight-thirty,’ Fleur answered, without looking up from the oxygen cylinder she was checking.

  ‘Works hard, doesn’t he?’ Frank nattered on, slurping his tea. ‘Good bloke, though, and that’s saying something. I’m not normally taken with foreigners.’

  ‘You’re not going to start talking about the war?’ Fleur asked good-naturedly, and Frank actually laughed.

  ‘He’s helped me a lot. It’s been a bit lonely for me since me wife died, not that you’d understand, of course. I’ve had a few problems and Mario, well, he sort of helps without you realising. You know, the odd game of bowling, a beer or two. He loves a yarn does Mario
.

  ‘I was a bit strapped for cash the other week. I never told him, though. And do you know, the same day that I’m worrying about the rent he asks if he can buy my tenpin bowling shoes from me. My Elsie got them for me one Christmas—she thought that lawn and tenpin bowling were the same thing, God rest her soul. Mario didn’t know that I was broke, mind, a bloke’s got some pride. But I tell you this much, if he hadn’t been around that day I don’t know how I’d have found the rent. It was giving me a real headache.’

  Fleur thought of how she and Kathy had howled with laughter at Mario’s bowling shoes. She didn’t feel guilty, it had just been a joke, but… She looked across the room at the difficult man lying on the trolley. A tough old guy, suspicious of the world and lonely as hell, yet Mario in his own very unique way had taken the time to help.

  Walking over, Fleur took the empty plate and cup off his lap and replaced his oxygen mask. ‘At your time of life, Frank, you shouldn’t have to be worrying where the rent’s coming from. Why don’t I organise someone to come and have a chat with you once you’re feeling a bit better?’

  ‘One of those blooming social workers, sticking their noses in and telling me what to do?’

  ‘Nobody’s going to tell you what to do, Frank, but maybe someone ‘‘sticking their nose in’’ as you call it, might see things a bit differently and make sure you’re getting all the benefits you deserve. Why not give it a try?’

  Frank started to cry—not a lot, but enough that Fleur handed him a wad of tissues from the box on the window-ledge, keeping a couple for herself.

  ‘It’s just so hard and it keeps getting harder. I miss my Elsie so much. She always took care of the bills and housekeeping, everything really. I just wonder when the pain’s going to go…’

  Fleur took his rough, wrinkled hand in hers and held it for a moment, blowing her nose with the other. ‘I know, Frank,’ she said gently. ‘I know.’

  ‘Fleur, sorry to interrupt.’ Felicity popped her head around the sliding door. ‘Mr Richardson wants to see you and Danny in his office. I can take over in here.’