I Remember You by Harriet Evans

Author:Harriet Evans [Evans, Harriet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

A couple of years ago, Tess had watched a programme about the restoration of the famous statue of David by Donatello, which was taking place in the Bargello Museum in Florence. The restorer was a young woman who, for eighteen months, had done nothing but gently clean the surface of the metal, so the young man’s beautiful body, poised between puberty and adulthood, was gleaming and soft perfection once more. She had worked with total dedication, the result being that each day she cleaned less than three square centimetres. And it would be worth it, she explained to the camera, for something so precious.

Tess was reminded of this all through that awful night, though she didn’t know why. Afterwards she thought it was a sign, perhaps, of how contradictory Italians are. So seemingly willing to surrender to chaos, and yet so extraordinarily organized, patient, kind, unsentimental. The ambulance that drove them to the hospital—as she sat, staring blankly, Peter asking questions in Italian, Mrs Mortmain’s tiny, stiff body lying on a stretcher—drove like a thing possessed, even though the hospital was only a couple of minutes away, the driver waving, cursing, even banging the windscreen. She had heard the ambulances’ sirens all week, ululating around Rome. It seemed completely unreal that she should be in one now.

Thank God for Peter, she kept thinking. He had called the ambulance, he had asked them to explain what was going on. He was clearly terrified too, but she didn’t know what she would have done without him. He translated for her as they raced through the streets.

‘She says your—Mrs—lady—she’s had a stroke, probably, a kinda big one, but they need to see what damage has been done.’ He patted her hand. ‘It’ll be fine. I’m sure. The hospital’s—’ He pointed, down to the river. ‘It’s right there. The Isola Tiberina.’

Tess had noticed, as she was crossing the Tiber a couple of times, an island in the middle of the river. ‘There’s a hospital there?’

He pointed again. ‘Yep. It’s very old. Been there since, like, Roman times I think. But it’s really good.’

‘Great,’ she said, though it wasn’t, really. ‘So it’s—’

‘Literally two minutes away, Tess. It’s going to be fine.’

She wished he wouldn’t keep saying that. It wouldn’t be fine. It wasn’t fine.

Ron and Andrea had gone back to the hotel, to tell the others. Not knowing what else to do, as the ambulance arrived Tess had quickly rung Beth Kennett, the college principal, to break the news to her. The usually calm Beth had not been very reassuring.

‘Oh, God. It’s not just it’s happened to someone,’ she said. ‘It’s that it’s happened to that someone. Shit.’

‘Sorry,’ said Tess, not knowing what to say. She hadn’t done it on purpose, caused one of her charges to have a massive stroke. She watched as Mrs Mortmain was loaded onto a gurney and a crowd gathered around her, the afternoon sun beating down on them.

Beth sounded desperate. ‘Oh, God,’ she said again. ‘Who’s her family? I’d better call them.

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