Chapter 33
The ambulance arrives without a siren, but we know it’s here because we can see its blue lights out of the window. I’ve changed into jeans, thick socks, a T-shirt, and the fleece I wore on the plane over. I didn’t feel particularly cold before, but bizarrely I don’t feel hot now.
Mark is doing okay, apparently. He’s speaking and even managed a smile, says Tig, who’s been going between the kitchen and the garden to make sure Theo has everything he needs.
I’m emotionally numb; too wrung out to feel anything, but the idea that Mark is now smiling rouses my anger.
‘I could kill him,’ I say to Yan.
‘It was an accident.’
‘He knows better than to fuck around by a swimming pool when he’s drunk.’ I slam my fist on the table. ‘Fuck’s sake!’
Yan keeps his voice calm. ‘You make it sound like he did this to you.’
Before I can answer, a paramedic barges into the kitchen and points at me.
‘We need to take you to the hospital too, despinis.’
The addition of ‘Miss’ in Greek makes me feel about twelve.
‘I feel fine,’ I say.
Physically I do, so it’s not a lie.
‘Your doctor friend insists.’
‘Theo can take a look at me here.’
‘Not him. O vremmenos. The wet one. Says he won’t leave without you.’
That Mark’s worried about my well-being makes me want to laugh.
‘I’m not going anywhere.’
The paramedic rubs his forehead, clearly not enjoying this conversation any more than I am.
‘He says he’s friends with the son of the President of Cyprus, and if I don’t bring you in, I’ll lose my job.’
I can’t believe I’m hearing this. The idea of sitting in an ambulance with Mark reeking of booze and chlorine is beyond me right now.
I clutch Yan’s hand, and he tightens his arm around me.
Tig stands up. ‘The man you are taking to the hospital just took a blow to the head.’ She crosses her arms. ‘Do you honestly think he knows the President’s son?’
The paramedic scratches the back of his head.
Theo enters, looking concerned. ‘If you swallowed a lot of chlorinated water, you ought to be checked out.’
I turn to Yan for help.
‘You guys go in the ambulance – I’ll bring Nella in the car.’
This seems to placate everyone, so the paramedic and Theo join Mark in the ambulance, and seconds later, we hear the bite of its tyres on the gravel.
I sit down at the kitchen table at exactly the same time as Yan stands.
‘Don’t get comfortable. I’m getting the car keys, and then we’re going.’
‘I don’t need to go to hospital. My throat is sore, that’s all.’ I clear it, trying to dislodge something. ‘I just need a glass of water.’
‘You are not fine.’
‘Yes, I am,’ I insist, getting up and running the tap. ‘I am one hundred per cent fine.’
There’s a beat while Yan tries to think of an argument to convince me.
Except he doesn’t need one, because the next moment I’ve thrown up all over the sink.
Pen and Tig, who’ve been outside to see off the ambulance, enter the kitchen just as I’m on round two of vomiting.
One comes to hold my hair while the other rubs small circles on my back. I’m too weak to turn to see who’s doing what. My legs are shaking, and I’m delirious from adrenaline.
After a few moments, the nausea has subsided, and Yan is back with his car keys.
He wraps another fleece around my shoulders – one of his, I assume – and we pile into the rental car.
‘Wait,’ shouts Pen, just before we set off. ‘Should we bring a bowl or something? We don’t want to get sick all over Mario’s car.’
Everyone looks at me, but I’m too exhausted to respond.
‘Better safe than sorry,’ she decides, and runs back to the house.
We’ve been in the hospital waiting room for about thirty minutes. I’ve been triaged, and the nurse who admitted us thinks the wait will be at least three hours. I’m not urgent, it seems, which is reassuring, I suppose, but doesn’t that also mean I’d be fine if we just left?
Tig went in search of a snack machine, and returned with a mini packet of orange-flavoured Papadopoulos biscuits, my favourite when I was a kid. But I can’t eat anything – my throat is burning from all the frenzied shouts for help, chlorine and vomiting.
She’s off again, trying to find drinks, but I suspect she’s really trying to locate Theo.
I’ve almost dozed off when she suddenly appears with Theo by her side. My pulse kicks up; he’ll have news of Mark.
‘How are you feeling, Nella?’ he asks.
I nod and smile. ‘I’m okay.’ I try not to wince as my throat cracks.
‘How’s Mark?’ asks Yan.
‘He’s fine. They’ve done a bunch of tests, and no red flags have come up. They want to keep him overnight, but he’s trying to talk them out of it.’
‘Of course, he is,’ I mutter.
Theo smiles. ‘The fact that he’s being a terrible patient is a good sign.’
‘Any idea when someone will see Nella?’ asks Yan.
Before Theo can answer, my name is called. It’s weird to hear someone pronounce it perfectly, but when I look up I see a tall, broad-shouldered god of a man who looks like he does everything perfectly.
‘She’s here,’ says Pen, helping me up. ‘Come to mama,’ she purrs, under her breath.
‘Any chance he might believe I’m Marinella Praxitelis?’ Yan whispers.
‘Will you guys just chill?’ I hiss.
I hobble over to him as he checks his clipboard. When he looks up again, I find myself staring into eyes the colour of the Aegean.
All I catch is that his last name is Adonisiou.
He speaks mainly in Greek with a few English words thrown in, and when I don’t say anything because I’m taking a moment to enjoy his face, from the curl flopping onto his forehead to the cleft in his chin, and the fact he’s called Doctor Adonis he repeats it all in English.
He leads me down a corridor and into a curtained-off cubicle.
When he asks me how I feel, I tell him the only thing that hurts is my throat.
He nods, then reaches for my wrist. The contact makes me jump.
He smiles calmly and checks his watch, measuring my pulse.
I try not to stare, but after all the trauma I’ve been through, the eye candy is like actual candy.
Twenty minutes later, he’s done all the usual things like shining a light in my eyes and listening to my lungs with his stethoscope. I almost sag with relief when he announces he’s satisfied that I don’t need further treatment.
‘A clean bill of health,’ he says with a bright smile. ‘I’ll tell your fiancé. I’m sure it will put his mind at rest.’
For a second, I assume he’s mistaken Yan for my fiancé, but then he leaves the cubicle and tells someone to let Mr Marino know that his fiancée is fine.
Why is Mark telling people I’m his fiancée?
The curtain swishes back, and Yan walks in.
I fling myself into his arms, snotty and teary, and wail, trying to make Yan understand that the only reason Mark is telling people I’m his fiancée is to block any chance I might have with Doctor Adonis.
And haven’t I been through enough, what with half-drowning and my BOYFRIEND CHEATING ON ME WITH A TWENTY-THREE-YEAR-OLD?
He listens and strokes my hair, and eventually, when I’ve got everything out of my system, says, ‘I think you need a cock to get cock-blocked.’
‘It was a metaphor,’ I say, sniffing. ‘Why else would Mark say all that?’
I rant about moving to Cyprus and enjoying moonlight strolls on the beach with Doctor Adonis. And then I catch sight of myself in the glass door – from my stringy damp hair, to my two pairs of socks and puke stains on my fleece. And it’s like a bucket of cold water.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’m delirious. Or losing my mind.
‘I hate to break it to you, Nelly, but the reason Mark told them you were engaged was because you were looking at a four-hour wait, so he batted his eyelashes and told the nurses that his recovery would go so much faster if he knew his beloved was okay.’
‘Oh, right. That makes sense.’
If it was anyone else, I’d be dying of embarrassment, but Yan takes it all in his stride.
‘Can we go home now? I want to sleep for a hundred years.’
A nurse arrives, and within a few minutes, I’m given the all-clear to leave.
We find Pen, Tig, and Theo in the waiting room, sitting stiffly on plastic chairs.
‘We can go home, kids!’ Yan announces.
‘Did you pop in on Mark?’ asks Theo, looking at me. ‘He wanted to see you.’
I swallow, unsure how to tell him that I don’t want to set eyes on Mark – not tonight, not tomorrow, and maybe not till we’re back in the UK. Seeing him will just bring back those terrifying minutes in the pool when his life hung in my hands.
Yan reads my mind perfectly. ‘Mark has put Nella through enough tonight. She’ll see him when she’s ready.’
‘Of course, of course,’ he apologises.
‘Let’s just concentrate on the fact that we’re all safe and sound,’ says Tig, surprising us all with her maturity.
‘You’re right,’ says Yan.
‘Of course I am,’ she says. ‘Because if you selfish gits had died, it would have seriously mucked up my seating plan.’