A Venetian Affair. Lucy Gordon

but I won’t be there. I’m going home to Stavely.’ Laura detached her hand as a taxi drew up and with a feeling of escape let him help her into it, knowing from the look on his face that she’d offended Edward again, but feeling too ill to worry about it.

      When she got in she took a long look in the bathroom mirror and faced facts. She was a total mess. An ugly scab bisected her eyebrow, one side of her swollen face was grazed from half-shut eye to sore chin, and due to the ankle and various other contact points on her body she ached all over. But none of it mattered. The major tragedy was not only missing her best friend’s wedding, but the chance of seeing Domenico again. Tears poured down her face at the thought, but they stung her grazed cheek so badly she mopped them up, took several deep breaths and left a message on her mother’s phone to ask for a lift from the station a day sooner than planned, and warned that her mobile was broken.

      Laura packed her bag, made some tea, took some painkillers, and, after an interval with her foot up and a bag of frozen peas clamped to her face, put on dark glasses and a pair of elderly flat shoes, tied a scarf over her head to hide as much of her face as possible and went out to catch a train on the first leg of her journey home. And on the slow, painful way to the Bow Road station she steeled herself to ring Fen to report the fall.

      In response to a frantic fusillade of questions Laura gave Fen the details, and eventually, after much argument, managed to convince her she would be one bridesmaid short. ‘I’m so sorry, Fen,’ she said miserably. ‘I could kick myself.’

      ‘For heaven’s sake, don’t! You’re in enough trouble without that, by the sound of it. I’ll pop down tonight to see you.’

      Hours later Laura gave a sigh of relief when she saw her mother waiting for her on the platform at Bristol Parkway.

      ‘Thank goodness you got my message,’ she said gratefully, and took off the scarf and glasses. ‘I had a fall this morning. Don’t faint. It’s not as bad as it looks.’

      After frantic questions, and Laura’s assurances that the requisite medical care had been taken, Isabel drove her daughter home. ‘Bed,’ she said firmly when they arrived. ‘I’ll bring your things in. Just get yourself upstairs and undress, darling.’

      ‘Thank you,’ said Laura gratefully. She crawled up the steep stairs and sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling too wretched to undress. ‘I feel a bit shaky,’ she admitted when her mother came in with her holdall.

      ‘I’m not surprised,’ said Isabel as she piled pillows. ‘You should have let me drive to the flat to fetch you.’

      ‘I couldn’t subject you to a journey to London and back on top of your working day!’

      ‘I would have managed, and it would have been a lot better for you than hobbling around on the underground in that state. Why on earth didn’t you get a taxi to Paddington?’

      ‘Low on cash. Don’t scold!’

      Isabel put an arm round her contritely. ‘Sorry, darling. Now, totter to the bathroom for a wash while I make some tea.’

      In bed later, leaning back against cool pillows, her ankle propped up on another, Laura felt a little better by the time her mother arrived with a steaming beaker and a bag of ice.

      ‘Are you sure you’re not concussed?’ Isabel demanded.

      ‘Quite sure. They told me what to watch out for at the hospital.’ Laura smiled ruefully. ‘And to make my day I ran into Edward. He’s just transferred there.’

      ‘No! How did that go?’

      ‘He wanted to come round to the flat tonight to check on me. I said no and offended him again.’

      ‘Never mind Edward. Drink the tea, then lie back with that ice on your face.’

      Fen came rushing up the stairs a few minutes later. She exclaimed in horror when she saw Laura’s face, and sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘Just look at you!’ she said, appalled. ‘Are you sure you haven’t broken any bones?’

      ‘The X-rays said not.’

      ‘Thank heavens for that, at least.’ Fen let out an explosive sigh. ‘I was hoping that a few layers of slap would do the trick, Laurie.’

      ‘I wish! You know I’d give anything to be at your wedding, but I’ll just have to be there in spirit. The face would freak out the guests even without the limp.’ Laura tried hard for flippancy, but Fen wasn’t deceived.

      ‘You feel rotten, poor love, don’t you?’

      ‘I’ll live. Is everything going smoothly up at Friars Wood?’

      ‘Now the family’s started arriving it’s a madhouse up there! I’m thinking of camping out in the marquee.’ Fen leaned down and very carefully kissed Laura’s uninjured cheek. ‘I’ll ring in the morning, but I’ll go now before your mother comes to throw me out. Put the ice back on that eye and concentrate on getting better.’

      Laura shrugged. ‘No choice—back to work on Monday.’

      ‘Stuff that!’ snorted Fen.

      Isabel brought up a tray later, and settled on the window-seat to make sure Laura ate the poached egg she’d agreed to.

      ‘Term finishes at twelve tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I’ll come home to see how you are, then go back to finish up with the rest of the staff.’

      ‘No need for that. I’ll be fine on my own. It’s my face that’s hurt—the rest is in reasonable working order.’

      Isabel looked unconvinced. ‘You need rest, my girl. I don’t suppose you can read with that eye, and television’s out right now, but I’ve got a new audio book from the library. It’s a really gruesome thriller—you’ll like it.’

      Next morning Laura sat up in bed gingerly, decided she felt halfway human again, and limped downstairs before her mother could toil upstairs with her breakfast.

      ‘What on earth are you doing up at this hour?’ demanded Isabel.

      ‘Making sure you don’t run about waiting on me before you take off to school.’ Laura pulled a face. ‘I had a look in the mirror. The bruises are right down my neck now.’

      ‘You took quite a crack on your chin, too,’ said her mother, getting up to examine it. ‘How’s the ankle?’

      ‘Bearable. A couple of painkillers and a few more cups of tea will help.’

      Fen rang during the morning with anxious enquiries and messages of sympathy from every member of the Dysart family.

      ‘Thank them for me,’ said Laura, touched. ‘Now go! Get on with being a bride, Fenella Dysart. Tomorrow is your big day, so concentrate on it and be happy.’

      ‘I’ll see you when we come back from Italy—we’ll have a little party!’

      Time hung so heavy Laura was very glad of company by the time her mother came home from school that afternoon. But it took effort to be cheerful during the evening, knowing that both of them should have been at the pre-wedding family dinner up at Friars Wood.

      ‘There’s no reason why you couldn’t have gone, Mother,’ said Laura, but Isabel shook her head firmly.

      ‘Not without you, darling.’

      Laura groaned in frustration. ‘It’s not fair that you should have to miss the fun, too.’

      The wedding day dawned hot and sunny, but after an early call to the bride to wish her joy the morning was hard for Laura. It hurt to know she should have been up at Friars Wood in the thick of the Dysarts, having her face and hair done and helping with the trio of teenage bridesmaids, but, most important of all, just being there for Fen on her big day.

      When Isabel came downstairs after lunch, the perfect wedding guest in a slim fawn linen dress and dashing bronze hat, she struck an exaggerated