I Remember You

by Harriet Evans

  ‘God, it’s like another world,’ said Beth, breathing out with something between a splutter and a sigh. ‘Fine. Can you let me know? I’ll need to talk to her. Damage control, apart from anything else. And we need to discuss what you do next, how you bring them all home, her home too, depending on what her family says, if we can get hold of them. How awful. Keep me posted, Tess. You poor thing.’

  The sudden kindness in her voice made Tess wobble a bit, as the shock of what had happened, the heat, the lack of sleep, all started to catch up with her. She nodded, unable to speak, and then realized that merely meant silence. ‘Thanks,’ she croaked.

  ‘Andiamo!’ the driver had called. ‘Signorina, basta, basta!’

  Tess said her goodbyes and climbed into the back of the ambulance. She caught a last glimpse of the bridge, the tourists swarming around the fountain again, almost as if this had never happened there. The vehicle sped off, and she jolted a little. Someone put their hand on her leg and she jumped.

  She looked up: it was Peter. She clasped his hand.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, trying to sound brave. ‘I’m glad you’re here.’ She looked out of the window at the scenery rushing past, trying to make things out, but everything was a blur.

  The hospital was extremely old, but the wing where the ambulance took them was relatively new, with period seventies decorations oddly contrasting with marble statues of priests in clerical outfits. It was staffed by nuns. They were not kind, but they were efficient, showing Tess and Peter to a row of seats, telling them to wait. And wait and wait. They sat in a long, long corridor that seemed to go on for ever, down towards who knew what. It was very quiet, strangely so, as if the presence of the nuns subdued everyone, patients, doctors, those waiting for news.

  Peter was silent. He held her hand, stroking her leg again.

  ‘You should go,’ Tess told him several times. ‘I’ll be fine, here, honestly.’

  ‘No, you won’t,’ said Peter truthfully. ‘I’ll go if you want me to go, but I can speak to someone, if anyone ever appears to tell us what’s going on…’

  ‘It’s fine, someone’ll be here soon.’ Tess moved his hand off her leg, again.

  He smiled at her. ‘I don’t like doing nothing.’ He got up, with the confidence of the American in an international situation, and set off to find a nurse, a doctor, anyone who might be able to help them.

  Realizing they had been sitting down now for the best part of an hour, Tess got up too, and went outside, out onto the old bridge. She dialled the phone again, thanking the Lord once again that in a rare moment of efficiency—for such a crisis as this—she’d entered all her companions’ numbers in, before the trip. ‘Hello?’ she said.

  ‘Who’s that?’ a reassuringly familiar voice demanded.

  ‘Jan, it’s me, Tess. I thought I’d dialled Carolyn’s number. Is she there?’

  ‘No, she’s downstairs. How is she? Where are you?’

  ‘I’m at the hospital, and we’re waiting for news.’

  ‘She’s still alive then, is she?’

  Tess paused. ‘As far as I know…yes, she’s still alive.’ It was so odd, her mouth framing these words. ‘Has Carolyn got through to Jean?’

  ‘She’s rather upset,’ Jan said.

  ‘Of course,’ said Tess, gritting her teeth.

  ‘Diana’s doing it,’ said Jan.

  ‘Diana?’ Tess was surprised. ‘She’s got Jean’s number, then?’

  ‘She said she knows who to contact.’ Jan sounded just the tiniest bit put out. ‘I have to slightly say, Tess dear, it has been Chaos here for the past hour. Anyway, order has been restored. I did actually think that Diana might slap Carolyn. She got rather hysterical. Anyway, she’s made the call. Jean will know what to do, she’s a sensible woman.’

  Tess had only met Jean Forbes a couple of times, but she knew this was true. She stared up past the hospital, out to the early-evening sky. ‘I hope so,’ she said. I feel wholly responsible, she wanted to say, but she didn’t. ‘Well, keep me posted, if they get hold of anyone.’

  There was murmuring in the background; Tess could hear Jan’s excitable tones, muffled by something—a hand?—over the phone. Then a voice said, ‘Tess? Diana here.’

  ‘Oh, Diana,’ Tess said, relieved. ‘Great to—’

  ‘Is she still alive, then?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tess. ‘She’s still alive. Listen, did you—’

  ‘Don’t worry about it at this end,’ Diana said. ‘Got through to them, Jean knows, she’s told Clive Donaldson.’

  ‘Clive—?’

  ‘Eddie Tey’s successor.’ Tess remembered him. ‘Solicitor. Handles all the Mortmain business in Langford. They’ve got another set in London, proper posh lot but for the moment he’ll know what’s best. There are things they have to do in a situation like this.’

  ‘Things like what?’ Tess asked.

  Diana said, without preamble, ‘Look, I can’t explain all that now. You’d better go, Tess. Goodbye.’ And the line went dead. Tess went back inside.

  ‘Where did you go?’ Peter was standing there with a doctor, a smart-looking woman in a white coat. ‘This is your lady’s doctor.’

  ‘Buona sera—’ Tess began, knowing a conversation with medical lingo in Italian was beyond her. ‘La vecchia femina…’

  ‘Good evening,’ said the doctor, in a low, scarcely accented voice, giving her a swift look. ‘I am Francesca Veltroni, I am Signora Mortmain’s doctor.’

  ‘Hello,’ said Tess, shaking her hand. ‘Dr Veltroni—how is she?’

  ‘I am afraid the prognosis is not good,’ said the doctor. She pronounced each word deliberately, carefully, separating not and good with a glottal stop. ‘Signora Mortmain has suffered an extremely serious stroke. She is not conscious. Penso che—’ she paused. ‘I think she will not recover from this, Miss—’ and she looked down at her notes—‘Miss Tennant. But we will know more in the morning, I think, about how stable her condition is.’ She raised her delicate eyebrows at Tess, who looked uncertainly at Peter, standing next to her. He was nodding, taking it all in. Gratitude to him washed over her. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, gave her a wink.

  ‘You can go back to your hotel,’ Dr Veltroni said. ‘You are nearby?’

  ‘Just in Trastevere, a ten-minute walk.’

  The doctor nodded. ‘That is con—’ she hesitated over the word—‘convenient. I would, if I were you, go back to your companions tonight, and please try to sleep. Tomorrow, we look again at Signora Mortmain. Perhaps the situation will be better.’

  ‘Dr Veltroni, should she stay here? Or go back to England?’

  ‘She is in a stable condition,’ Dr Veltroni said. ‘As I have said, we will know more in the morning. Of course she can stay here. But her family might want to take her home, to make alternative arrangements for her care.’

  ‘That’s just it,’ said Tess. ‘There are no alternative arrangements.’ She smiled at the doctor, thinking of the scared group back at the hotel, the mortally ill woman in the room next door, Beth Kennett pacing in her office at Langford College, and she tried to quell the rising tide of panic, to summon all her strength to deal with it all, now. I don’t know what to do, she thought, as both Peter and the doctor, strangers a week ago, stared expectantly at her. They are all relying on me, and I don’t know what on earth to do.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Night was falling when Tess and Peter finally emerged from the hospital. They had seen Leonora Mortmain, tiny in her starched white hospital bed, with the yellow light from an outside lamp flooding the little room where she lay. Her hands were resting on her chest, and her lined face in repose was curiously strong, the cheekbones high and defined. It was shocking to see her like this, passive, laid out on the bed where anyone could walk past and see her. She was wearing a pale blue hospital gown. Her shallow breathing rattled in the echoing room.

  ‘She will not remember you,’ Dr Veltroni said. Her tone was comforting, though T
ess wasn’t sure that was what she intended.

  They were standing now in a quiet little square in front of the hospital. Tess had not really got her bearings, and she looked around her, realizing once again she was on an island, in the middle of the river. The hospital was behind them, a church in front of them. An ancient white marble bridge led back to the centre.

  ‘That’s the oldest bridge in the city,’ Peter said. ‘Ponte Fabricio. It was built even before Caesar. There—there’s a cool fact for you.’ He wrapped his arms round her and she rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Oh, honey. This isn’t the time I had in mind for you. You OK?’

  ‘Yes,’ Tess said. ‘Yes, fine.’ She shook her head, wishing she could sink into his arms and stay there in the twilight. ‘I’d better get back, though. I need to see if everyone’s all right back at the hotel. See what’s happened with finding Mrs Mortmain’s nearest and dearest.’ She spoke the last word bitterly.

  ‘You don’t like her, do you?’ Peter said. Tess’s eyes flew open.

  ‘No,’ she said eventually, leading him away from the hospital, so they were in the middle of the piazza, where only a couple of straggling tourists remained in the dusk. ‘I don’t like her. Sorry, but I think she’s an evil woman.’

  Peter shook his head. ‘Tess, that’s awful.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘No, that’s an awful thing to say,’ Peter said, shaking his head.

  ‘I know that, too,’ Tess told him.

  ‘What’s she done to you? You don’t know what made her that way.’

  His tone was light, but there was a serious note behind it, and Tess was serious too. ‘She’s—not been very nice, to most people. That’s the trouble. That’s why I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘How so?’ Peter folded his arms, and sat on an old iron bollard. ‘What’s she done that’s so awful?’

  ‘Well…’ said Tess. ‘She’s made a lot of enemies. She thinks she’s better than everyone else in the town. In Langford. Where I’m—they’re all from.’

  ‘Why does she think that?’

  Tess shrugged her shoulders, looking around her. ‘I wish I knew.’ She told him briefly about the water meadows, and the planning permission that had been granted. ‘I think the timing of this holiday is unfortunate, from that point of view,’ she said, chewing the corner of her index finger. ‘There are people here now who fought her every step of the way on those plans, and they’re very cross with her.’ He nodded, his intelligent dark eyes watching her, but she didn’t feel he understood. ‘It’s their town, you know. Their home. They’ve grown up there, they’ve raised their children there, or they’ve chosen to live there and she just doesn’t seem to care. Like—where are you from?’ She realized she wasn’t sure. ‘Upstate New York, yes?’

  ‘Long Island,’ Peter said. ‘Lot of good dental work and collagen there. Not many water meadows.’ He said the last sentence with a terrible English accent, and she realized how foreign it all was to him, of course it was. ‘But hey, my mom’s Italian, and the village her parents are from, up near Turin, the mayor tried to put up a statue of Berlusconi last year, and he had his legs broken.’ He nodded. ‘Both of them.’

  She loved him for trying. ‘It’s silly, I know. But she is—honestly, she’s not a very nice person.’

  ‘You said she was evil.’

  Tess threw up her hands. ‘OK, OK! Perhaps she’s not…evil. She’s just hard to like, that’s all.’

  ‘That’s better,’ said Peter, standing up and putting his hands on her shoulders. ‘Actual evil, that’s really bad. You don’t know, something could have happened to make her that way.’ He paused. ‘Something that changed her.’

  His face was serious. She stroked it, and drew his mouth down to hers, kissing him. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘I understand.’

  He drew back a little and stroked her hair. ‘Do you want me to come back to the hotel with you?’

  Tess really did, but she knew it probably wasn’t that great an idea, to rock up back at the Albergo Watkins with a hot young man by her side—she knew the rumour mill would have been started already by Ron and Andrea and she didn’t need any more fuel added to that particular fire. Plus, she was afraid, suddenly, afraid that all this—real life, is that what it was?—would get in the way of what had been, till Leonora Mortmain dropped to the floor in front of them three hours ago, something almost perfect. She didn’t want real life getting in the way of this. Not yet. Let it be in its own bubble, just for the moment.

  ‘No, that’s OK,’ she said. ‘I’d better go back on my own. You understand.’

  ‘I do, but call me if you need me,’ Peter said. He clutched her wrists. ‘You are beautiful, Tess.’ His expression was intense. ‘So we’ll go our separate ways on the bridge. I’ll call you tomorrow, shall I?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ she whispered, wishing then that he was coming back with her. He kissed her, his hand under her chin, and walked away, up over the bridge. Tess turned, heading south, back to the hotel, to the rest of her life.

  ‘Tess, there you are!’ Carolyn Tey was sitting in the lobby of the Albergo Watkins, clutching a tissue, her faded pink face stained with tears, her fluffy blonde hair even fluffier than usual. Jacquetta sat next to her, patting her hand, fluttering her long lashes in time to the hand-patting, as if she were on autopilot. ‘Oh—oh, dear, how is she?’

  Tess patted Carolyn’s shoulder as she made her way towards the bench, under the painting of the Colosseum. She knelt on it with one leg, feeling a bit dizzy all of a sudden, and the bright strip lighting of the lobby making her eyes hurt. At the desk, on the phone, was Diana Sayers, and next to her was Jan. Relief flooded through Tess as she realized, then, what she already knew, that Diana and Jan were sensible people, strange in some ways, yes, but sensible to a degree. And that was what she needed at the moment.

  ‘She’s not great, I’m afraid,’ Tess said. ‘The doctor says tomorrow will tell us more. She’s not in any pain. But she is unconscious.’

  ‘The doctor, did he say it was ca—caused by anything?’ Carolyn said.

  Tess looked up; Andrea Marsh and Ron were standing at the bottom of the stairs, side by side. They looked back at her, fear in their eyes.

  ‘She. The doctor is a she,’ Tess said. ‘She’s called Francesca,’ she said unnecessarily, and she started as she realized the connection. Francesca…What was her Francesca doing now, back in rainy Langford on a Friday afternoon? It seemed a million miles away. ‘She didn’t say it was caused by anything. She said Mrs Mortmain was quite frail, that was all.’

  ‘Poor girl,’ said Diana, who had put the phone down and was striding across the lobby. She patted Tess on the back and Tess was touched to realize she was talking to her. ‘What a day. No more news?’ Tess shook her head. ‘She’s still hanging on, then?’

  ‘Diana!’ Jan protested, scandalized. ‘Oh, my goodness, you can’t say that!’

  ‘Well, is she or isn’t she?’ Diana said calmly. ‘I don’t mind either way, but on balance, we don’t want our holiday ruined by a fatality, do we?’

  Tess laughed, partly out of shock. ‘Did you get hold of Jean Forbes?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Jan. ‘She’s talking to the Mortmain’s solicitors. She—oh, she said—’

  Diana interrupted her suddenly, looking at Tess with concern. ‘You look washed out, Tess, if you don’t mind me saying so. It’s been a long day. Have you eaten?’

  What with the long morning sex session on the floor, the Prosecco, the walking around, the medical emergency and then the hours of waiting, Tess realized that she probably hadn’t eaten anything all day, beyond a few pieces of bread and cheese at Peter’s. ‘No,’ she said. ‘And I’m starving. I might go out and—’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said a voice behind her, and she turned to find Liz and Claire standing in the doorway, holding a white package. ‘We went to the bakery on the Campo dei Fiori. We got some stuff, because we didn’t know what everyone would be doing tonight.
We thought you might be hungry.’

  Tess stared at them gratefully. ‘I love you both,’ she said.

  ‘No worries,’ Liz said briskly. ‘Thought it was something we could do to help.’

  ‘Come out onto the terrace,’ Diana said. ‘Eat it there, we’ll get some wine sent up, too. What a day.’

  ‘What a day, oh, my days,’ said Jan, following behind her. She touched Jacquetta on the shoulder. ‘You coming, dear?’

  ‘In a minute,’ Jacquetta said heavily. ‘I’ll just make sure Carolyn is all right—’

  ‘I’m fine,’ said Carolyn, dissolving into tears ago. ‘I—I’m fine…Oh, dear, it’s all so awful, isn’t it?’

  Tess stared at her, not sure how to respond. She was in charge, and she didn’t really know what to do, how to lead them, what was the right thing to say. ‘Come on,’ Claire said, guiding Tess slightly by the arm. ‘We can discuss what we’re going to do up there. It’s a lovely evening. Let’s try and catch the rest of it.’

  They sat outside on the hotel’s tiny terrace, where the jasmine was entwined with ivy and the sounds of the city wafted over them, as if on a breeze. In the morning, they knew, decisions would have to be made, but nothing could be done now, and Tess relaxed a little. They talked late into the night about anything and everything, laughing, smiling at each other’s stories about awful jobs, about disastrous dates, about friends with children, their hopes for the future, and so on. It was a strange end to a strange day, and Tess realized, for the first time, how nice it was to talk to someone her own age, out here.

  ‘You were always a bit scary, in class,’ Liz told her, emptying the last of the final bottle into Tess’s glass. ‘I didn’t really feel I could come up to you and say, “Hi! Wanna go for a drink?”’

  ‘That’s awful,’ said Tess, thinking of how she’d never really talked to them before, or even wanted to. They were her own age, they’d both left London recently, and she hadn’t noticed, or cared. And how she’d complained it was hard to make friends in Langford. She was…well, she was stupid.