Emergency: A Marriage Worth Keeping. Carol Marinelli

you going now?’

      Blushing, realizing she’d been caught staring, Isla nodded.

      ‘The boys are just finishing their breakfast, their clothes and schoolbags are—’

      ‘We’ll manage fine.’

      ‘I know.’ She gave a tiny shrug. ‘Luke seems fine, Harry’s a bit—’

      ‘He’ll be OK,’ Sav broke in again. ‘Don’t worry.’

      ‘I am worried, though, Sav. Harry’s upset, not just about me working—’

      ‘Harry’s got too much Mediterranean blood in his veins for his own good.’ Again Sav halted her. ‘He wants his mother home in the kitchen, worrying about him all day long.’

      She knew he’d meant it as a joke. Sav was fiercely proud of his heritage, adored Spain, missed it more than he ever let on, knowing Isla felt guilty for all he had given up to marry her. But even if it had been a joke, there was a semblance of truth behind it, and Isla chose to pursue it.

      ‘What about you, Sav?’

      She watched his shoulders stiffen slightly, waited as he splashed some aftershave into his hands and slapped it on before slowly turning around to face her.

      ‘I’d rather you were at home, too.’ He stared directly at her, dark eyes boring into her, honesty behind every word. ‘But not because I’m a chauvinist, Isla.’

      ‘Then why?’

      ‘You’re going to be late.’

      ‘Sav, please, tell me—’

      ‘Isla, it’s your first day. If you’re really serious about going back to work then now isn’t the time for an in-depth discussion.’ He was right, and if he’d left it there it would have been OK. But Sav had to get the last word in, had to spoil yet another morning with his own immovable view on things. ‘Anyway…’ He stalked out of the en suite, ripped off his towel and somehow managed to pull on his boxers and still look haughty at the same time. ‘What I think doesn’t really come into it. You’ve made that perfectly clear. You’ve made your choice: you’re doing whatever it is you need to do, Isla. The rest of us will just have to work around it.’

      ‘You’re impossible, Sav. You make it sound as if I’m off to a nightclub, or abandoning you all for a week in Bali to have massages and facials and lie on a beach, while I leave you all to fend for yourselves. I’m going to work, for heaven’s sake.’

      ‘Then go.’

      Without another word she turned around, marched down the stairs, absolutely refusing to look back, determined not to make this wretched morning any worse.

      ‘Isla.’ Sav was at the top of the stairs, and slowly she turned to face him. ‘Good luck.’

      Damn!

      Why did he have to go and do that? Isla thought. Why did he have to go and do the right thing, say something so nice, when they both knew he didn’t want her to go back?

      ‘Thanks.’

      They met halfway down the stairs. ‘You’ll be fine.’

      ‘I hope so.’ Isla sniffed.

      ‘I know so.’ He picked up the name tag that hung around her neck, staring at the security photo for a moment, and Isla felt her breath catch in her throat as his fingers dusted over her chest, the sudden intimacy unfamiliar and unexpected. ‘You were Isla Howard last time we worked together. Isla Howard, a grad nurse with an attitude.’

      ‘And you were the visiting overseas registrar that the whole department promptly fell in love with.’

      ‘Good times,’ Sav said softly, and she nodded, dragging her eyes up to meet his.

      ‘Very.’ Isla gulped, terrified of saying the wrong thing, pushing too hard, not wanting this fragile moment to end, relishing this tiny, unexpected tender moment. But just as the past caught up, just as she glimpsed again the man she had once known, the shutters snapped closed, just the briefest of kisses brushing her cheek as he took a step back up the stairs. ‘You’d better go.’

      ‘Bye,’ Isla said quickly, darting out of the door, trying for both their sakes to escape the horrible gap in their conversation, the parting ritual that had fallen by the wayside fourteen months ago.

      Drive safely.

      They’d always said it, always hugged each other at the door as one of them had been leaving, whispered the words to whoever had been driving. But like so much else it was another thing out of bounds.

      Sav, no doubt, felt he’d lost the right to say it, Isla thought as she climbed into her car and started the engine, and in turn how could she say it to him? Sav would take it as a warning, an accusation even.

      It hadn’t been his fault.

      None of this was anyone’s fault, Isla knew that, knew that, knew that!

      She had told herself over and over and had begged, begged Sav to accept that fact.

      ‘The wrong place at the wrong time’ had been the coroner’s exact words.

      No one could have foreseen, least of all Sav, that the car heading towards them had been a time bomb about to explode. Even the poor driver couldn’t have known that as he’d headed along the dual carriageway, the heart attack he’d been dreading since his last cholesterol check was about to ensue, that in a split second two families’ lives would impact with a force that was devastating.

      That two families’ lives would be torn apart for ever.

      She’d been playing tennis.

      Trembling fingers pushed the key into the ignition as for the millionth time the day replayed itself in Isla’s mind, the engine idling as she relived the awful events that had brought her to this point.

      Sav had taken a long overdue morning off so she could take an extra tennis lesson. Wow the ladies with her fabulous serve at the comp that weekend!

      Had she really been that shallow?

      Isla could still see the ball thudding onto the line, hear the kookaburra’s laughing in the treetops, feel the hot midmorning sun blazing on the back of her neck as the police car pulled up, a blue and white car out of place amongst the four-wheel-drives, a stir of interest rippling through the quiet suburban setting. She could feel her hand grip tighter on her racket as two officers got out, could still recall with total clarity the horrible shiver as someone pointed her out to them, taste the bile in her throat as they walked over, her legs dissolving as the news, however gently delivered, hit its mark. That while she’d been hitting a bloody ball over a net, her husband lay trapped in the mangled wreckage of his car, that even now, as strong hands guided her to the waiting vehicle the emergency teams were trying to extricate him.

      ‘Casey?’

      The single question that no one would answer, the appalling wait in some hole of a room as the twins worked innocently on at school, pacing like a caged animal, desperate for answers but silently praying they wouldn’t come.

      She could still hear her scream as the doctor came in, feel her friend Louise’s arms around her, even remembered feeling vaguely sorry for Louise that she’d had to arrive at that point, had to witness her friend literally collapse in a heap.

      Checking her rear-view mirror as she pulled out of the driveway, Isla’s eyes fixed for a second as they always did on the empty seat, almost willing Casey’s cheeky smile to fill the mirror, for that permanently chocolate-covered mouth to blow her a kiss just as he always did.

      Had.