by T A Williams
To Mariangela and Christina, as always. With love.
Chapter 1
‘Beatrice, can you hear me?’
Bee heard the voice as if through a curtain. A warm hand touched her wrist and the voice reached her again. It was a man’s voice and it sounded friendly.
‘Beatrice, can you hear me? I’m Doctor Bianchi. You’re here at the hospital in Siena.’ His English was fluent. He sounded like an Italian who had spent time in America.
As his words registered, Bee struggled to work out how she could have ended up here, but she couldn’t make sense of it. Hospital?
‘Yes, I can hear you.’ Her voice sounded as if it belonged to somebody else.
She shook her head in an attempt to get her brain working again and winced with pain. Very cautiously she tried wiggling her fingers and toes. Reassured, she stretched her arms and then her legs. As she did so, a sharp pain shot up her left thigh and into her back.
‘Ouch.’
‘I’m afraid you’ve taken a bit of a beating, but you’ll be fine. Your thigh’s badly bruised, but there’s nothing broken.’
Bee raised her free arm and ran her fingers across her face, unsurprised to find it swathed in bandages. Only then did she open her eyes. She blinked a couple of times before the realisation struck her that everything was black. A wave of panic began to sweep up and engulf her and she fought as hard as she had ever fought in her life to suppress it.
‘I can’t see.’ Her voice was still very weak, but the terror in it was audible.
‘It’s all right, Beatrice. The pads over your eyes will be coming off very soon and your eyesight should be unimpaired.’
The sensation of relief she felt was palpable. She breathed out with a long sigh and felt her body relax again. She let her fingers run on up to her head and, for a moment, she couldn’t understand what had happened there. It took several seconds before her befuddled brain worked out that her hair, her lovely long hair, had gone. But how could it have just disappeared?
‘My hair? What happened to my hair?’
All she could feel on her head was a mixture of stubble and surgical dressings.
The doctor’s fingers gave her wrist another encouraging squeeze.
‘Don’t worry, it’ll grow back. You took a blow to the head in the accident and suffered a number of cuts and grazes. I’m afraid most of your hair was singed in the blast and we had to shave the rest off so as to get access to the scalp to stitch you up. But apart from the main wound, none of your other cuts were too serious. Your hair’ll soon grow back and hide everything and you’ll feel fine again before too long.’
What blast? A bomb? Had she been in a terrorist attack? Bee shook her head in frustration. If only she could remember…
‘Beatrice, is there anybody you’d like us to contact? Friends? Family? We’ve located your mother and I spoke to her personally to reassure her. I was surprised to find that she’s Italian.’ He switched to Italian. ‘Does this mean you speak Italian too? Could we be having this conversation in Italian?’
Bee found she was able to answer in Italian without apparent difficulty and she took that as a good sign that her brain hadn’t been seriously damaged. ‘It’s a lot easier for me in English, thank you, if you don’t mind. I do speak Italian, but I’m not sure how good I’d be at medical terminology.’ She switched back to English again. ‘It was really kind of you to contact mum. Thank you very much Doctor…?’
‘Bianchi… Dario Bianchi. I work in the trauma department here at the hospital in Siena.’
Bee lay back and, as she relaxed, the mist in her head gradually began to clear and she started to remember.
‘Siena, you said? I’ve been working in Siena.’ She tried her hardest to concentrate, and memories came flooding back with a rush. ‘I’ve been working for a film company.’
‘That’s right. That’s dead right.’ The doctor sounded pleased, and maybe a bit relieved. ‘You were on the set of a new film that’s being made here. Can you remember what happened to you?’
Bee lay back and concentrated, finding she could remember the name of the film, the hotel where she and most of the crew had been staying, but nothing about what had happened to her. She tried her hardest, but as far as the accident was concerned, there was just darkness.
‘Let me see. The film we’re making is called The Dark Prince. It’s an epic, set in the Middle Ages, and I’ve been employed as the historical consultant. I’ve been here for almost two months now and the film’s just about finished.’ She gave a little snort of frustration. ‘I can remember all that, but my mind’s a complete blank about the accident. I’ve no idea how I ended up here.’
‘Never mind, Beatrice. It’ll probably come back in time. Apparently, the accident happened on set. They said a lighting gantry collapsed on you and the lights exploded, showering you with flying glass.’
In spite of Bee’s best efforts, she still couldn’t recall anything at all of the actual event. ‘Was anybody else hurt?’
‘I’m afraid so. Mimi Robertson herself. She was luckier than you, though. She didn’t get the blow to the head and her cuts were less serious.’
‘Wow.’
This was a name Bee instantly recognised. Mimi Robertson was the most famous British actress of her generation and one of the most famous names in Hollywood. She was starring in The Dark Prince and Beth had been introduced to her weeks ago when filming had started, but they had barely exchanged more than a few words since then. The stunningly beautiful star kept herself very much to herself, and the other crew members had warned Bee not to be surprised if Mimi – ‘Miss Robertson’ as she preferred to be called – completely ignored her. She was apparently renowned for her glacial manner and her prickly personality, and Bee had wisely kept out of her way.
She was, however, box office gold.
Once again Bee relaxed, relieved her memory appeared to be returning, although the thought of her lovely mane of long hair having been lost threatened to bring tears to her eyes. Her thigh was really sore and she wondered whether all these injuries would have an impact upon the rest of her life. Doing her best to quash a rising sense of panic, she spared a thought for Mimi Robertson, wondering how she was coping with her injuries. After all, to film stars like her, appearance was paramount.
Then another name came to mind: Jamie. For a moment, she wondered whether she should ask the doctor to contact him and tell him she was all right. No sooner did the thought occur to her than she dismissed it as irrelevant. That was all over now. They had broken up some months ago and she had no difficulty remembering the last troubled weeks leading up to their separation. In fact, if she could have permanently lost those memories as a result of the accident, it would have been a blessing.
She lay there, pleased to feel that her brain was definitely functioning better now, even if the events of that day on the film set were still a blank. She had a thought. ‘Doctor Bianchi, if you’ve got time, maybe you could ask someone to let the people at Pan World know I’m awake.’
‘That’s already been done. In fact, I believe there’s somebody from the company coming to see you later on. She’s been coming in here all week.’
‘All week…? How long have I been here?’
‘Five days. You’ve been in an induced coma. There was some swelling in your brain that had us worried, but I’m pleased to say that’s all gone down again now.’
‘Five days? So, today’s what…?’ Bee struggled to make sense of what she was hearing. ‘…Friday, Saturday?’
‘Saturday – that’s right. You were brought in on Monday morning.’
‘And the swelling to the brain…?’ She tried her hardest to keep her voice level. ‘That sounds serious.’
‘It could have been, Beatrice, but don’t worry. As far as we can tell, you’ve sustained no permanent damage.’
‘As far as you can tell…?’ Suddenly the loss of her hair paled in comparison. Fighting once more to calm her fears, she did her best to turn the conversation away from her own problems.
‘And Miss Robertson? Is she still in the hospital?’
‘No, she was released almost immediately. Anyway, like I say, you’ll be visited by one of your colleagues quite soon. She’ll be able to tell you more, but we’re just waiting for the pads to come off your eyes and for my head of department to have the chance to see you. Now you just lie there and relax. Everything’ll be fine.’
‘Thank you, Doctor Bianchi.’
‘You’re very welcome. I’m off now, but you’re not on your own. The nurse has just arrived and she’ll stay with you until the pads over your eyes are removed.’
Bee heard a brief exchange in hushed tones and then his footsteps recede, and for a moment she felt terribly alone in the darkness. There was a light touch as a hand caught hold of hers. It was warm and soft; it reminded her of her mother. Bee reached for the fingers, squeezing them just as she had done as a little girl. The sensation was very comforting.
‘Hello, my name’s Rosa. I’ll stay with you. Don’t worry now.’
The voice was as warm as the hand. She was speaking Italian, but slowly and clearly, unsure whether Bee would understand. This simple gesture of human kindness suddenly broke the dam and Bee felt the tears begin to flow. She found herself sobbing like a little baby, as a sensation of relief flowed through her, tempered by very real fear for the future.
She felt the nurse’s other hand gently stroke the unbandaged side of her face until the tears began to subside. It took a while, but Bee finally found the strength to speak again, marshalling the words in her head before launching into Italian.
‘Thank you so much, Rosa, you’re very kind. I suppose it’s just the reaction. I’m sorry I’ve soaked your bandages with my tears.’ She was pleased to hear her voice sounding pretty strong and her Italian flowing well. Her mother had always spoken Italian to her, even though Bee had been born and brought up near London, and after two months in Tuscany, it wasn’t too much of a challenge.
‘Don’t worry, Beatrice. Let it out. You’ve been through an awful lot, but you’re safe here now and you’re going to be all right.’ After a pause, the nurse changed the subject and Bee was grateful to her. At first…
‘So, have you got any friends or family coming to see you?’
Bee shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. My parents are in England. My mum’s got a problem with her ears and can’t fly, and it’s too far for my dad to drive.’
‘No man in your life? A fiancé or a husband, maybe?’
‘Nothing like that. I had a boyfriend, but that’s all over now. It all fell apart a few months ago.’
‘I’m sorry. Did you have a fight?’
‘No, not really. I suppose we were arguing more about little things towards the end, but I think we both realised it wasn’t going anywhere. At least, that was the way I felt.’ She took a deep breath and tried to hide the heartbreak she had felt as four years with James had dissolved into dust. ‘Splitting up was the sensible thing to do, but it’s been a tough year all in all.’
‘Never mind, you’re a very pretty girl. You’ll soon find somebody else.’
Bee shook her head slowly. The last thing she needed was another man any time soon. She ran her free hand up to her face again and explored the bandages.
‘Rosa, are these bandages just to protect my eyes, or has something happened to my face?’
‘I’m afraid you got a bit cut up in the blast. It’s the left side of your face and your left ear that got the worst of it. As well as the top of your head.’
‘Is it serious?’ Bee’s mind was racing.
‘I heard them say your hearing and eyesight should be all right, but there’s a bit of damage to the skin of your cheek. It’ll probably take a while to recover.’
‘But it will recover?’
‘You’d better talk to the doctor about that, Beatrice. I really don’t know.’
‘Will I be scarred for life, Rosa?’
‘I can’t say, Beatrice, but they can do the most amazing things these days. You’ll see – our surgeons are second to none.’
‘Oh, God…’
‘Don’t you worry, dear. It’ll be all right.’
* * *
They took the pads off her eyes about an hour later. The lights in the private room had been dimmed and the blinds drawn, and at first all Bee could see were three vague shapes. As her eyes adjusted and her focus sharpened, she felt an overwhelming wave of relief wash over her. She made out two men and a woman standing around the bed. The man nearer to her was the first to talk.
‘Miss Kingdom… Beatrice, I’m Dr Esposito and this is my colleague, Dr Bianchi.’ He was speaking Italian and he started slowly, but seeing her comprehension, he gradually speeded up. He didn’t introduce the nurse, but from the friendly smile on her face, Bee deduced it had to be Rosa and did her best to smile back at her, although how much of it would be visible beneath the dressings was unclear.
‘Hello. Thank you for taking such good care of me.’
‘You’re very welcome. It’s not often we have patients from Hollywood here.’ He repeated Dr Bianchi’s words, but Bee decided not to break the news to him that she had never been to the US, let alone Hollywood. ‘We’re all delighted you’ve pulled through. We were a bit worried about you for a while, but you’re making good progress now.’ The specialist stepped a bit closer and leant towards her face. ‘Now, can you see me quite clearly? How many fingers am I holding up?’
‘Fingers? Three. And, yes, my eyesight’s really fine, thank you. And I can hear you loud and clear as well, although there’s a lot of ringing in my ears.’
‘Don’t worry about the tinnitus. It’s only to be expected after the sort of damage you’ve incurred. It’ll gradually calm down, but it may take a few more days.’
Bee nodded, reassured. ‘But what about my face?’
The two doctors exchanged glances and it was Dr Bianchi who replied. In the background, Bee saw Dr Esposito motion towards the nurse who went over to the window and opened the blinds. Light flooded into the room and Bee blinked, delighted to find she could see everything with complete clarity.
‘It’s only the left side of your head and face we have to worry about. Your ear and neck were protected to a certain extent by your hair, but your scalp and your left cheek have suffered some burns and lots of little shrapnel wounds – mainly caused by broken glass, I’m afraid.’
‘Will I be scarred for life?’ Bee was pleased to hear her voice sounding level and measured – very different from the turmoil inside her head.
‘We don’t really know at this stage, Beatrice. We’ll have to keep the dressings on for a while until the skin starts to heal, and then it’ll be a few more weeks before we can say definitely. But I’m confident that by the end of the summer you’ll be looking much more like your old self.’
‘But not exactly like before?’
She saw the doctors exchange glances again. It was Dr Bianchi who replied once more.
‘We’ll do our very best, Beatrice, but it’ll be a slow process, and there’s no way of knowing at this stage what the final outcome will be.’ He smiled encouragingly. ‘But there’s a lot we can do to help you and, remember, it’s only cosmetic. None of your internal organs have been damaged, your brain’s returned to normal, and you can see and hear as well as before. So, just try to relax and rest assured that we’ll do our very best for you. You’ve been very lucky.’
Chapter 2
‘You’ve been very lucky. It doesn’t look bad at all.’
Bee harrumphed quietly to herself. Why did everybody keep telling her she’d been lucky? Surely being banged on the head and ending up with a face full of broken glass was anything bu
t lucky. However, hiding her frustration, she summoned a wry smile.
‘Gayle, you’re a lovely lady but a terrible liar. Tell me honestly – what do I look like? They only took the dressings off a few minutes before you arrived, and the nurse has gone to get me a mirror. Is it awful?’
‘No, honestly, Bee, it doesn’t look too bad. Sure, there’s a bit of blistering and it all looks pretty red and raw, but I’m sure it’ll heal up fine.’
Bee scrutinised her closely.
‘I’m sure I saw your nose grow longer as you said that.’ She looked round in frustration. ‘If only I could see it. Where’s Rosa with that mirror?’ She caught Gayle’s eye. ‘You haven’t got a mirror in your bag, have you?’
‘Sorry, no.’
This time Bee felt sure she spotted the nose elongate. Fortunately, at that moment, Rosa came back in with a hand mirror.
‘Here you are, Beatrice. Now don’t you worry. It’s still a bit inflamed at the moment, but the doctors say it’s all healing well.’
She went back out again, leaving Bee and Gayle alone.
Bee took a deep breath and looked into the mirror. What she saw confirmed her assessment of Gayle as a barefaced liar.
It looked awful.
Her left ear was bright red and raw, as was the skin around it all the way down to where the collar of her shirt had been. Her cheek, however, was far worse; it also looked red and raw, but it was laced with white and yellow and the few patches of unbroken skin were a deep blue, almost purple colour – presumably severely bruised. The rest of her face was a spectral white and her eyes bloodshot. The damage extended right across her cheek, almost reaching her nose and mouth, but not quite. She swallowed hard and took a final look before setting the mirror down again.
‘A sight for sore eyes, eh?’ She did her best to sound upbeat, while, inside, she could feel her whole world collapsing in on itself. She struggled hard, but couldn’t stop tears springing from her eyes. Somehow this was just another bitter blow to be added to the run of bad luck this year had brought her. She reached for the edge of the sheet and wiped it gingerly across her face as Gayle leapt in with further encouragement.
