The Temporary Mrs. Marchetti

‘Why are you here?’ she said. ‘Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?’

Cristiano’s stomach dropped like an anvil hitting concrete. ‘Hospital?’

Meghan was wide-eyed with strain. ‘Yes, Alice fainted in a shop. I got a call from the owner a few minutes ago. She said Alice has been taken to hospital for observation. I’ve been in such a state trying to cancel all her clients as well as do my own. Is she all right? What’s wrong with her? They wouldn’t let me speak to her.’

Cristiano’s heart was giving a very good impression of needing urgent medical attention itself.

Alice sick? Taken to hospital?

Panic pounded like thunder in his blood.

No. No. No. Not again.

What if he couldn’t get there in time? Things happened in hospitals. Bad things. People went in and didn’t always come out. Or they did, but in body bags just like his family. ‘Which hospital?’

Meghan told him and then added as he rushed out of the door, ‘Oh, my God. You didn’t know?’

‘My phone’s been off all afternoon.’ He took it out of his jacket pocket and almost dropped it in his haste. But there were no missed calls from Alice and no text messages, either. What did that mean? She couldn’t call because she was too ill? Unconscious? In a coma?

His heart flapped like a blown tyre. His pulse hammered. He was so consumed with dread it felt as if a pineapple were jammed halfway down his throat.

‘Tell her I’ve got everything under control here,’ Meghan called after him. ‘Well, sort of...’

Cristiano hailed the nearest cab and then spent the entire journey wishing he’d dragged the cabby out of the driver’s seat and driven the thing himself. By the time he got to the hospital he was so worked up he could barely speak. He had to draw in a couple of deep breaths when he walked through the door.

The clean antiseptic smell hit him like a slap, instantly transporting him to that dreadful day. After his parents and brother were killed he had gone with his grandparents to the hospital where they had been taken. He still remembered those long corridors with the sound of his trainers squeaking as he walked that agonising walk to where his family were lying lifeless. He remembered the looks from the doctors and nurses—a mixture of compassion, I’m-glad-it’s-not-my-loved-ones-lying-in-there, and business-as-usual indifference. He remembered the shock of seeing his mother’s and father’s and brother’s bodies draped in shroud-like sheets. Not being able to grasp the thought of them never coming home, of life never being the same.

It had felt as if he had stepped into a parallel universe—it hadn’t been him standing there looking at his family but some other kid. Someone who could deal with it. Someone who wouldn’t carry the wound of loss around for the rest of his life.

Cristiano found the emergency department and asked a nurse for Alice’s whereabouts in a voice that sounded nothing like his own. He was led to a cubicle where Alice was lying with her eyes closed and hooked up to a saline drip. He saw the rise and fall of her chest and a giant wave of relief swept through him. He opened his mouth to say her name but nothing came out. He reached for her hand not attached to the drip and she opened her eyes and gave him a tremulous smile. ‘Hi.’

He sank to the chair beside the bed because he was sure his legs were going to fold beneath him.

‘What happened? What’s wrong, cara? Are you unwell? I was so worried I thought you might be...’ He swallowed back the word. ‘You scared the hell out of me. Are you all right?’

‘I’m perfectly fine. I just got a bit dehydrated and almost passed out. I didn’t want all this fuss but the lady in the shop I was in was so pushy and—’

‘It was a good thing she was,’ Cristiano said. ‘Why haven’t you been drinking enough? Are you not feeling well? You should have said—’

‘I was busy, that’s all.’ She gave him a weary smile. ‘Since we got back from Italy I’ve been run off my feet. I didn’t get lunch and I hadn’t had anything to drink since breakfast and that was only a sip or two of tea.’

He cradled her hand in both of his. Guilt slammed through him. It was his fault she hadn’t had a proper breakfast. He had distracted her with a passionate kiss that had ended with them making love up against the kitchen bench. He couldn’t resist her when she was all dressed up for work in that crisp smart uniform. He couldn’t resist her, period. He brought her hand up to his mouth and gently pressed a kiss to it.

‘How soon before I can take you home or do they want to keep you in overnight?’

She lifted her arm connected to the cannula. ‘Just until this runs through.’

Cristiano stroked her fingers. ‘You almost gave me a heart attack, young lady.’

She gave him a rueful movement of her lips. ‘Sorry.’

‘What shop were you in?’

Her gaze fell away from his. ‘A bridal boutique.’

Cristiano made a ‘that figures’ sound. ‘Yeah, well, I felt like passing out when I came in here. Bridal boutiques aren’t your favourite haunts and hospitals aren’t mine.’

Her gaze came back to his, her brow wrinkled in concern. ‘I’m so sorry for making you panic. I didn’t want anyone to call you. I knew I’d be all right once I got some fluids on board.’