The Wedding Arrangement

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.

CHAPTER SEVEN

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.

They had taken him from her arms to get him down the stairs. She’d followed and insisted on going in the ambulance with him.

Now he was safe, his injuries treated, his outlook good. She ought to be glad and relax, but inwardly she was screaming while the tears poured down her face.

‘Minnie.’ His voice was barely a croak, but her ears seemed specially sensitive to him, and now she couldn’t hide any longer. She dried her eyes and forced herself under control. When she turned to him she even managed a smile.

Through a haze Luke watched her come towards him and lean close.

‘You’re all smudgy,’ he whispered.

She rubbed her face. ‘It’s the smoke.’

‘Sorry about that. Were you injured?’

‘Not at all. Never mind me,’ she said with soft urgency. ‘I’ll go soon and let you rest, but first, how do I contact your family?’

‘There’s no need for that. I’d rather not worry my mother. She’ll think it’s worse than it is.’

‘You were lucky it wasn’t.’

‘I was lucky in my neighbours, who came to my rescue so fast. Still,’ he added wryly, ‘I suppose, having won me over, they wanted to keep me alive until the repairs were done.’

‘Stop fishing for compliments. You’re a popular man.’

‘But you can’t think why.’

At one time she would have enjoyed bantering with him, but now there seemed to be a lump in her throat and she was afraid of weeping again.

‘I haven’t given the matter any thought,’ she said, trying to speak steadily. ‘Now, can we please be serious for a moment? I ought to let someone know about this. What about your girlfriend?’

‘What girlfriend?’

‘The one whose picture you keep in your wallet. I found it the first night when I was collecting your things. She has lovely long black hair.’

‘Oh, her!’

‘Oh, her? Is that any way to talk about the lady in your life?’

‘Hardly that.’