Lucy Gordon - The Wedding Arrangement

He took the oar from her, feeling the brief touch of her hand. Slight as it was, it unnerved him.

He said no more for a while, but rowed in silence while the sun rose high in the sky and he grew uncomfortably hot in his sedate jacket.

‘You’re not dressed for rowing,’ she said kindly. ‘Why not take your jacket off?’

He removed it gratefully and she took it from him, folding it neatly and laying it beside her.

‘And the tie,’ she said. ‘Take that off and open your shirt. Right now you need to be comfortable rather than dignified.’

‘Thanks,’ he said, stripping off the tie and handing it to her.

It was bliss to open the top buttons and feel the air on him, but after a few minutes he discovered a downside to this. Perspiration cascaded from him as he rowed, soaking his shirt, making it cling to him, outlining the muscular shape of his torso.

For some reason he felt awkward. With any other beautiful woman he would have enjoyed the chance to impress her as part of the normal process of flirtation. But for her that wasn’t good enough, and he felt uncomfortable, even ashamed.

He glanced at her and was relieved to find that she apparently hadn’t noticed. She was leaning back, her head tilted up to the sky. Her eyes were closed against the sun, and there was a half smile on her lips. He watched her, entranced, knowing that he could have stayed like this for ever.

He pulled on the oars with renewed vigour, relishing the mass of physical sensations that were rushing in on him at once. Exertion had made his blood pound and his heart beat more strongly, and now his memory seized on the night of the party, when he’d fallen asleep, she’d led him to bed and had to struggle to free herself.

He couldn’t actually recall her thumping him, but the feel of her body writhing against his was there with him now. And suddenly he knew why. The touch of her hand, a few minutes ago, had revived that other moment when they had been as close as lovers, in flesh if not in spirit.

Now his body felt alive, vibrant, and the knowledge that it wasn’t the same with her, that there was no way he could reach her, had the effect of intensifying every feeling almost to the point of desperation.

In an urgent attempt to distract his own thoughts, he said, ‘Did you accept Gianni at once?’

‘I didn’t say anything,’ she remembered dreamily. ‘I was too dumbfounded to speak. I was madly in love, but I’d thought it would take me ages to wring a proposal out of him. Suddenly there it was, and all I could do was open and close my mouth like a goldfish.’

‘What did he say?’ Luke pressed her.

He despised himself for weakening and asking the question, but if she didn’t tell him soon he’d go crazy.

‘He said, “Either you say yes or I tip you in the water.” So I said yes. Afterwards he told me he wished he hadn’t done it that way, as he’d never know whether I’d married him out of love or to save myself from getting wet.’ She laughed. ‘I told him to work it out.’

‘Did he ever manage that?’

‘Let’s just say we were very happy,’ she said softly.

He was silent. There was nothing to say.

After a moment she asked, ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘I was wondering how often this happens. Do you see Gianni everywhere?’

She considered this seriously. ‘I don’t “see” him. He’s just there, part of me.’

‘But I meant places.’

‘Yes, he’s in all the places. Anywhere we were together, he’s still there. We often used to come on this lake and remember what happened.’

He was longing to ask if Gianni was there with them now, but he bit the words back. Why torment himself?

‘I should return to the office,’ she said with a little sigh.

‘Let’s not go back. Let’s stay on the water, then go and have some lunch and to blazes with them all.’

‘I can’t,’ she said reluctantly. ‘I have clients coming in this afternoon.’

‘Put them off.’

‘Luke, I can’t. I mustn’t. I can’t just abandon people who need my help.’

‘But we haven’t talked about anything.’

‘Serves you right for being a caveman.’

And with that he knew he would have to be satisfied. Turning the boat he pulled back to shore and helped her out. A horse-drawn carriage was passing and took them back to the Via Veneto.

At the door of the building she paused. ‘We’ll talk business another day,’ she said.

Luke didn’t want to talk business with her. He wanted to kiss her. But he bade her a polite farewell and left.

A few minutes walking in the sun were enough to dry his shirt. He called the bank and made himself an appointment for later that day. He passed the time with an excellent lunch at which he drank only mineral water to keep his head clear. By now he was functioning as a businessman, so he sat at the table for another hour, jotting down figures.

The meeting at the bank was very satisfactory, and he emerged with the feeling of having matters under his control, something which always made him feel better.

But he was restless, and to ease it he walked all the way back to the Residenza while the light of the city faded and the yellow lamps came on. It was almost dark when he arrived.

Some of his neighbours were sitting on the stairs of the courtyard and he lingered with them, exchanging pleasantries. But he didn’t stay long. It had been a hot day and a humid evening, and he was longing for a shower. As he climbed the final stairs he allowed himself to glance down at Minnie’s windows, something he hadn’t allowed himself to do under the curious eyes of his neighbours. There were lights on. She was in.

Briefly he considered crossing over to see her, but he sensed that she would prefer to be left in peace. After watching the lights in her flat for a while he closed his door and went into the bathroom. There he stripped off, got under the shower and reached out to the boiler.

It exploded.

After that his impressions piled in on each other. The hideous noise, the crack on his head as he was hurled back against the wall, flames, the terrible helplessness of lying on the floor, half in and half out of consciousness, unable to move and save himself.

From a distance he heard fists pounding on his front door until it flew open and people burst in. Some dragged him out of the bathroom, others fought the flames. The pain was terrible, yet he didn’t lose consciousness, only turned his head from side to side, trying to understand what was happening.

They wanted to carry him outside where he would be safer, and he thought vaguely that they shouldn’t do that because he was naked. He tried to say something, but when he looked up he found Minnie’s face above him. Somehow she was cradling him in her arms. Tears poured down her face and she was sobbing, ‘Oh, God, not again-not again!’

Then he blacked out and knew no more until he awoke to find himself in hospital. There was a searing pain down his right side, starting with his face, which felt red-hot, and going down his arm, where it was almost unbearable. He made a sound which was half gasp, half groan, and a woman’s face appeared in his consciousness.

‘You’re awake. Good. The pain-killers should start to take effect soon.’

Luke gave a grunt of thankfulness.

‘What happened?’ he whispered.

‘Your boiler blew when you were right in front of it and you caught the full blast. You’re lucky you aren’t dead.’

‘I feel pretty near it.’

‘Your right side is most affected. You have mild burns all down the right of your body, and more severe ones on your arm. But they’ll heal. You’re in no danger.’

He remembered now. He’d just stripped off, prior to having a shower when the world had exploded about him. With horror he realised that the woman talking to him was a nun.

‘Oh, Lord!’ he groaned. ‘I’m sorry, sister-’

‘Doctor,’ she said firmly.

‘Doctor, I hope I didn’t outrage the sensibilities of the sisters.’

‘Don’t you worry, young man,’ she said cheerfully. ‘We’re not easily scared. Besides, you were decently covered by the time you came in. Your neighbours took care of that.’

‘Good,’ he said thankfully.

But then more memories assailed him. Minnie-she’d been there when they’d dragged him free. He’d lain naked in her arms, and she’d cradled him, weeping, ‘Oh, God, not again!’

He tried to think. Had it really happened or was it just his feverish imagination? But the pain-killers were taking effect and suddenly he lost consciousness.

HE SURFACED again, having lost track of time, but seeing that it was still dark outside. Turning his head painfully, he saw Minnie standing at the window with her back to him. He tried to speak but the sound that came out was weak, and she didn’t turn towards him. He wished he could see her reflection in the dark glass, but her head was bent.

Minnie, standing at the window, knew that he had stirred, but needed a pause before she could look at him. She kept her head lowered, lest he see her face, and her tears should reveal too much.

She could still hear the explosion. It happened again and again in her head until she thought she would go crazy from the endless repetition. Then everything slowed and she seemed to be wading through glue as she ran to him, her heart pounding at the sight of the smoke and flames.

It was playing back again, the moment she’d rushed in to find them dragging him out of the bathroom and laying him out on the floor, dropping to her knees beside him, cradling him in her arms-like that other time-watching life ebbing away-Please, not again!

She’d held him against her, willing him to live, begging, praying, imploring some unseen power, because she couldn’t bear to go through it a second time.