Midwife, Mother...Italian's Wife

by Fiona McArthur

  His sarcasm flayed her and she could feel the tears she refused to let fall. Would this horrible day never end?

  She’d witnessed his utter emotional devastation, and for a proud man who barely showed emotion normally, of course it must be mortifying. He’d never forgive her. ‘I can only say I’m sorry. And that I wish I could have told you myself before you found out.’

  It seemed she could look forward to years of distrust and dislike whenever he visited his brother in Lyrebird Lake. At least there was no decision now about visiting Rome.

  It wouldn’t matter how hard she tried to reestablish their mutual trust after this.

  CHAPTER NINE

  LEON drove with icy precision.

  They followed the signs to the long-stay car park and the operator at the booth magically waved them on when their car appeared.

  Two small and forlorn boys stood sheepishly outside the brick shelter, little white faces pointed to their shoes as Leon and Tammy pulled up beside them.

  There was silence until Leon spoke very quietly. ‘Arrivare,’ he said to his son. ‘Get in,’ he said to Jack. Then he glanced at Tammy. ‘Or does your son understand Italian too?’

  ‘No.’ Tammy didn’t offer anything else. The silence stretched and remained in the car until Leon reparked in the terminal car park.

  They all heard his deep breath. ‘I do not want to know whose idea this was—’ his cold glance brushed them both ‘—but I wish you to appreciate how frightened and upset both Tamara and I were when we found you gone. This has been a difficult week for everyone and I would prefer if no further problems arise.’ His voice remained low but every word made Tammy wince. ‘Or there will be retribution.’

  Paulo held back his tears. ‘Sì, Padre. Mi dispiace.’ He looked at Tammy. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Jack sniffed and nodded, then he, too, took a deep breath. ‘It was my idea, Mr Bonmarito. Not Paulo’s. I’m sorry.’

  ‘It is to your mother you owe an apology, Jack.’

  She watched her baby struggle to hold back the tears. ‘I’m sorry, Mum.’ Tammy just wanted to hug him but she couldn’t risk him thinking he could run away ever again. And if she was honest, she was a little nervous of Leon, in the mood he was in.

  ‘Thank you, Jack. And Paulo.’ She fought back her own tears. ‘Let’s just get you Bonmaritos on that plane.’

  They all climbed out of the car and walked silently back towards the departure gate. Incredibly there was still time for boarding. Tammy was so emotionally punch-drunk she couldn’t wait to make her own exit.

  She saw Gianni and Emma up ahead and it was like a seeing a drink machine in the desert. They had Grace so Montana must have been gone. Emma, her best friend—a welcoming face, thank goodness, from a world she understood and felt comfortable in, a face from home. Her steps quickened and she threw herself into Emma’s arms and hugged her fiercely.

  Emma hugged her back. The loudspeaker called another flight and reminded them all that time was running out and they hadn’t been through customs yet. Emma searched Tammy’s face and then looked to Leon and gave her friend one last hug. She blinked back the tears and glanced at her husband before she took her daughter’s hand and they moved through the departure gate into customs. One wave and then they were gone from sight.

  Which left Tammy with the thundercloud, two subdued boys and a goodbye that never seemed to end.

  ‘Say goodbye to Tammy,’ Leon said quietly to his son, and perversely Tammy wished Leon had called her Tamara.

  ‘Goodbye.’ Paulo moved in against her as she held open her arms. She cradled his dark head against her chest and her heat ached for him. ‘Ciao, Paulo. Hanno un buon volo.’ Have a good flight. She may as well tell everyone she could speak it if she wanted to. Now.

  Paulo’s eyes widened at her faultless Italian and then he smiled. A beautiful smile. ‘Sì.’

  Leon took the insult on the chin. She was mocking him. It seemed she had always mocked him. He’d made a fool of himself with her deceit. Did she have no shame? How had he allowed himself to be fooled by her smile? And yet he was tempted to throw everything to the winds and demand to know if she cared for him a little. He bit the impulse stubbornly back. Did he have no pride? Did he want to lower himself again? He was a Bonmarito! ‘Goodbye, Jack. Look after your mother.’ He inclined his head and it should not have been so hard to brush past her and walk away. But it was.

  Tammy watched Paulo follow his father, his eyes shadowed as he waved one last time to Jack and her. Then it was too hard to see because her eyes were full of tears. But still she couldn’t look away from the broad back that finally disappeared through the gate.

  He’d gone. Leon’s gone. She’d tried to apologise in the car, but maybe she should have tried again before he left. Of course she should have. Should have thrown herself on his chest. Should have made him see she hadn’t meant to continue the lie, but opportunities had slipped away. And in those last few seconds, she’d only alienated him more. With her pride. Lot of good that would do her now.

  The fact slapped her in the face. She loved him. Loved Leon. And she should have told him she loved him. At least then they would have both been exposed. The fact stared her mockingly in the face as she watched strangers disappear into the void that had taken the only man she should have fought for.

  And she’d been too stubborn and too cowardly to beg him to forgive her. Too proud to share the same thoughts and emotions he’d shared with her more than once. She felt the tearing in her chest as she realised her loss. The tears welled thicker and her throat closed.

  Jack tugged on her hand, then jerked hard, and she brushed her hand across her eyes and turned back to look. What was the boy doing now?

  She looked again. A man with a barely hidden wicked-looking knife had taken Jack’s other hand and was pulling him away from her. Again. They were trying to take her son again.

  A red haze crossed her vision; all thought of self-defence she’d learned for years flew out the window in this recognition of danger and she raised her handbag like a club and rushed at him, threshing at his face and head until he let Jack go. She kept hitting him until something hot and yet chilling struck her chest.

  People stopped and stared as Tammy blinked at the sudden heat in her chest and the last thing she heard was Jack’s scream. She fell as the air seemed squeezed out of her lungs and a steel band tightened slowly and relentlessly across her chest. The world went dark.

  Leon made it to the first checkpoint, clicked his pen to complete the departure form and suddenly a word leapt out. Departure. His hand stopped. His fingers refused to write a letter and he’d grabbed Paulo’s hand and spun back towards the entry.

  Making their way backwards through the crowd had taken agonising seconds and he prayed she hadn’t gone far through the terminal. He didn’t know what he was going to say but leaving without a kind word because of stupid, stubborn Italian pride would not happen. He’d made the gate just as Jack had been accosted. His heart exploded in his torso as he’d pushed past people to where he could see Tammy flailing at the man. He saw it happen with a horror he would never forget, the awfulness of the knife, and seeing her eyes close as she fell.

  He hit the man once, with a force that snapped the man’s head back, and the knife flew into the air and then clattered to the ground. The assailant slid to the floor where he lay unmoving and for a few seconds Leon hoped he was dead. Then he fell to his knees beside Tammy and slid his hand to her neck to feel her pulse. ‘Can you hear me? Stay with me, Tamara. You’ll be okay.’

  He found her pulse. It was there, beneath his fingers, rapid and thready, as the bright red blood poured from the wound in her chest. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and tried to staunch the flow, glancing around for help.

  ‘She’s alive,’ he said to Jack, beside him, and then Paulo was there too. ‘Look after Jack,’ he said to his son, and white-faced Paulo nodded and put his arm around his friend as both boys looked on in horror.
<
br />   A security guard arrived and Leon snapped orders at him. ‘He’s stabbed her. I’m a doctor. Call for an ambulance.’ All the time his brain was screaming, No, not Tamara. Not here. Not now. Not ever. Wrenching his mind away from the unthinkable he clinically assessed her. With one hand he lifted her eyelids and no flicker of recognition eased his fear. ‘Stay with me, Tamara,’ he said again. He rechecked her pulse, still fast but it was her pallor and the unevenness of her breathing that terrified him.

  Then he saw it in her throat. The sign of imminent death. The tracheal shift from internal pressure within her chest. The veins in her neck began to bulge as the pressure of one lung expanding from within its layers squeezed the air out of the underlying lung and crushed her heart.

  Gianni and Emma arrived, pushing though people who crowded around them. ‘Thank God.’ Leon gestured from where he was crouched. ‘He’s stabbed her lung.’

  Without a word, Gianni took over holding the wound as Leon rolled her gently to check there was no exit wound.

  ‘Where are the paramedics? There is very little time to decompress her lung.’

  Emma fell to her knees and put her arms around both boys. ‘What happened?’

  Leon spoke across Tammy’s body. ‘He stabbed her. An ambulance is on its way.’

  Jack sobbed and Leon grasped his shoulder to give him strength. ‘Move the boys away, please.’

  The paramedics arrived and they all moved back. Except Leon. ‘I’m a doctor. Tension pneumothorax. It needs releasing. Now.’

  The paramedics, young and a little unsure, gulped, looked at each other and nodded. With barely controlled haste they opened their kit and removed their largest cannula normally used for rapid infusion of intravenous fluids.

  The paramedic wiped the area with a swab but his hand shook so that he dropped the swab. The bleeding sped up. He hesitated. The gauge looked huge and Leon could feel the sweat bead on his brow as her veins stood rigid from her neck. Come on, he thought.

  Still they hesitated, perhaps unsure, and Gianni leaned across his brother. ‘Here.’ He pointed to the precise spot. ‘Between the second and third intercostal space.’ Of course his brother had dealt with this many times in rescue from flying debris and it was enough to galvanise Leon.

  He ripped Tammy’s shirt where the knife had gone in and her skin looked alabaster in the artificial light of the terminal, with a slash of sluggish blood. Her low-cut lacy bra was stained a garish red and he pulled it down further with one hand. Her collar bone lay round and fragile and he slid his finger along halfway, then down, one, two spaces between the ribs.

  He glanced at her face, her beloved face, and she had the blue of death around her mouth. Leon snatched the cannula from the man and slid it with precision between her ribs and through Tammy’s chest wall. The hiss of air escaping made him want to cry. He who never shed a tear could barely see.

  Leon sat back and the paramedic, spurred on by Leon’s decision, apologised for his slowness and hastened to remove the stylet so that only the thin plastic tube remained in her chest. ‘Sorry. Never done it before, sir.’

  His partner handed the tubing that would connect the indwelling catheter to the Heimlich valve that stopped the air from leaking back in and immediately the blueness began to recede from around her mouth.

  Leon felt the weight ease in his chest. Slowly her chest began to rise and fall with inflation as the air between the layers in her lung escaped and allowed the tissue beneath to expand.

  Her breathing became more rapid and the blueness faded more. ‘We’ll cannulate before we move her, sir.’ The paramedic was all efficiency now and Leon winced for his love when they inserted the intravenous line in her arm. Seconds later the cardiac monitor assured them all her heart was beating fast but in a normal rhythm. A few more seconds and she was on the trolley and they were all moving swiftly towards the ambulance.

  Still she didn’t regain consciousness. Leon’s fear escalated. ‘How far to the hospital?’

  ‘Brisbane Central. Five minutes, tops.’

  ‘We’ll follow and take the children with us in Tammy’s car,’ Emma said, and she clutched Tammy’s bag so fiercely it was as if she was holding her friend’s life in her hands. They peeled away with Grace and the boys.

  By the time they had her settled in the ambulance, Tammy’s pulse was still rapid but appeared stable.

  Leon took her hand and leaned down near her ear so she could hear him over the sound of the siren. ‘I’m here, Tamara. It’s Leon. I need you to listen to me. Jack is fine. We’re all fine. We need you to hang on.’

  He didn’t know what he was saying. He just knew he needed to make sure she could hear his voice. Unconsciously he switched to Italian and he didn’t care that if she woke she would understand every word. He ached for her to do so.

  ‘I love you, Tamara Moore. The thought of you dying right there, in front of me, will live with me for ever. Why did I think I could go and leave you when it is plain to see you need me around you all the time?’ He smoothed the hair from her still-pale features. ‘I adore you with all my heart, my love. I need you. You must get well and we will plan our life together. If you will have me.’ He rested his face against her cheek and to hear her breath was all he needed to keep going.

  They kept him from her in Emergency, but after beginning one tedious form he brushed them off and at his most imperious he cornered a doctor and gained entry to her side.

  He oversaw them insert the underwater sealed drain that would keep her lung from collapsing again, and watched the colour return to her face with bags of blood they replaced.

  He followed her to the intensive care unit and super vised her transfer into the bed. The only person he couldn’t bully was the specialist nurse who stared him down and told him to step back.

  ‘She’s my patient. When she’s stable you can have her back.’ And to the surprise of the other medical staff he did back down. Because, he thought with a wry smile, how like his beloved Tamara she was.

  When Tammy woke up, she saw him asleep in the chair pulled up to her bed. His dark hair was tousled, his five-o’clock shadow heavily marked around his strong jaw. He was a disgustingly handsome wreck of a man as his cheek rested on her bed. She’d done this to him.

  ‘I’ve been meaning to tell you,’ she whispered, and the air stirred between them. He shifted in his chair and opened his eyes. The warmth that poured over her brought the heat to her cheeks. No one had ever looked at her like that. As if her presence had brightened his whole world. As if the sun had just risen with six words.

  His hand tightened where it still held hers and he raised it slowly to his mouth and kissed her palm.

  ‘Meaning to tell me what, amore mio?’

  ‘That I speak Italian. Have done since I was a teenager.’

  ‘So we discussed,’ he said, but he was smiling. ‘But now you have told me yourself and I am glad you can.’

  She searched his face. ‘What you said in the ambulance. Was it true?’

  ‘You heard me, then?’ Such love shone from his eyes she couldn’t doubt him.

  ‘I was trying to stay away from the light,’ she only half teased.

  He squeezed her hand and kissed it again. ‘Nothing I have told you is not true.’

  She closed her eyes and relaxed back into the pillow. ‘In that case, yes, I will you marry you.’

  ‘Sleep, my love. And when you wake I will ask you properly.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  LEON BONMARITO allowed the blessing to flow over him as the priest joined him and Tamara Delilah Moore in holy matrimony. His heart filled with the joy he’d once avoided on his brother’s face and he thanked God again for allowing him to find and keep his love.

  He had no doubt that somewhere ethereal above them all his parents were smiling down at them.

  The tiny family chapel on the hillside at Portofino, filled with the scent and delicacy of flowers, held smiling people most important to them both.

  Their
two sons, dressed again in their tuxedos, tried hard to contain their mischief in the front row with the flower girls but he had no doubt Tamara’s parents would quieten them if they exploded.

  His brother and his wife, her pregnancy just showing, stood at the altar as their attendants but could not keep their emotion-filled eyes off each other.

  His housekeeper and her husband, who had served the Bonmarito family all of their lives cuddled up to Louisa, who had come for a holiday and to share their happiness.

  There would be a party at Lyrebird Lake when they returned but this day, far away from the magic of the lake, was for them. To savour the solemnity of their vows and celebrate their love in front of a special few in a special place.

  Afterwards, Leon took Tammy to honeymoon at the Hotel Macigno in Ravello. Their suite of rooms perched high above the cliffs where at night, when the boys were asleep, he showed her how much he truly adored her.

  In the blue-skied days the boys flew kites under the watchful gaze of the nanny Leon had insisted on so they could relax, and the nanny was watched by Louisa.

  As Leon and Tammy walked the cliff paths hand in hand, the spectacular Amalfi Coast shimmered below them and he pointed out traditional fishing villages and the reflected blue of the Mediterranean.

  Nearby Amalfi, Positano, Capri and Pompeii beckoned for day trips and the boys flourished in the warmth of love that radiated from both parents as they played in the sea and explored the ruins of ancient cities.

  Gradually Jack began to call Leon Dad, and though Tammy had told Paulo he could always call her Tammy, the boy asked, diffidently, if he could call her Mum. ‘That is different to Madre, if that is okay?’ And slowly their family melded, became one with a solidarity Leon thanked God for every day.

  EPILOGUE

  One year later

  ‘WE DON’T have to go to hospital. You could call Misty and Emma and they could look after me here.’