the gloves. I hesitate, halted by the pain in his voice. His face settles into the white, expressionless mask I saw when I came in. But no. Don’t weaken. Remain professional at all times. Master and servant. Customer and employee.
As I turn to retreat I trip over the basket of towels, sending them flying. The magazine flips out and lands on top of them.
‘What’s that? Brought me some gossip?’
I open it to the right page and turn it to show him. He takes it from me, stares at it for a long time. The silence stretches again. The bee at the window skids across the glass and escapes at last.
‘It’s an article about you. I was reading it earlier, and you know something? My sister saw that show in New York. I remember her telling me.’ I tap at the photograph. ‘She said it was amazing. Very naughty. You had to go along dressed in period costume, and the cast mingled with the audience and dragged you onto this walkway, onto the stage, until you all became part of the performance.’
‘Yes. I know all that,’ Pierre sighs. ‘I designed it.’
‘Carlo, her husband, thought it was ace. Then again, he’s pretty bloody naughty himself.’
I clamp my mouth shut, but it’s too late. Pierre Levi lowers the magazine. His eyes are enormous, his eyelids drooping with the weight of sadness.
‘It says here, “The Way He Was.”’
‘Francesca said you were awesome. Like a ringmaster, you know, controlling all the animals.’
‘I was amazing. You see? It’s all in the past, Rosie. I don’t know who I am any more.’
‘You’re Pierre Levi, of course.’ I take the magazine out of his hands. ‘Here you are. In this magazine. A handsome, strong, successful man surrounded by brilliant dancing girls.’
Pierre turns his face towards the window. I don’t know how long I’ve been in here but the sun has climbed higher in the sky and the heat is beating the energy out of the air.
‘So what do you see now, Rosie? Who do you see?’
‘I see a man, a patient, in a lot of pain.’ I try to remember the psycho-speak we were advised to use during training, for defusing difficult, upsetting situations. ‘You need to rest now.’
‘I’ll tell you what I am. I’m no longer the circus master. I’m one of those animals, but I’m not dancing any more. I’m caged up. Chained. Hobbled.’
He knocks at the frame, dislodging the duvet. I step forward, pull it back into place.
‘Temporarily, maybe. But you’re the same man, Mr Levi. Just with some broken bones. They’ll heal in the end, and then you’ll be as good as new.’
‘You’re a doctor now?’
‘No. I’m not even a proper nurse. But I do know that there’s one part of you that can never change, or lie.’
We gaze at each other, and then down at the bed. The sheet has subsided and is lying smooth and snowy across him.
A deep dimple appears in his cheek, and a bubble of laughter fizzes inside me, too.
‘What bit’s that then, Cavalieri? The one you’ve just kindly covered up?’
‘The eyes, Mr Levi! The eyes! They’re –’
He presses his hands down on mine, where they are still resting on top of the duvet, and we laugh.
Being in here is like being caught up in a freak storm, where one minute thunder clouds are turning the world black, the next a multi-coloured rainbow is arching over the sky promising a heatwave.
‘Go on.’
‘Lovely black eyes, Mr Levi. In this picture, and in real life. They’re piercing and bright, like a raven, or a –’
‘Ratsnake?’
His hands are white from lack of natural light, and too thin from lack of appetite, and still covered in dried scratches, but they’re large, and warm. I sense that they’re strong, or they soon will be again. They could stroke you, or hold you, or lift you –
‘Seal. I was going to say a baby seal.’
‘Before they club it?’ He lifts my hands as if to use them as weapons.
‘No! I meant big, you know, and appealing –’
Pierre’s laugh is stronger now, a slow, lazy rumble that comes up from his chest. He drops my hands gently, reaches for an apple and polishes it absently against the sheet.
‘Well, you may not have washed me to Nurse Jeannie’s exacting standards this morning but you’ve achieved something far more significant, Miss Rosie,’ he says, chuckling, taking such a greedy bite that juice sprays into the air. ‘I’ve talked more to you in half an hour than I ever have to Dr Venska! And believe me, this is the first time anyone’s made me laugh.’
‘Voila. So allow me to give you my diagnosis, Mr Levi.’ I open the door and the mid-morning trolley bursts through. ‘What you really need is a kick up your sorry arse.’
I’m standing in Nurse Jeannie’s office. I’m expecting a grilling. I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong, but I can’t think why else I’m in here.
‘I haven’t had time to speak to you since I left you on your own with Mr Levi the other day and I see it’s been more than a month now since you started here. So I thought it was time for an assessment, Rosa. You might benefit from some feedback. A lot of our clients have perked up significantly since you started working here.’
She hands me a sheet of paper. I stare at it while I try to take in what she’s just said.
‘I wasn’t expecting such a nice – you mean you’re not telling me off?’ I say, still hovering in front of her desk. ‘So what have they said about me?’
‘As you know we regularly ask our clients to assess the staff by means of our questionnaire, and I have to tell you the comments made on your performance to date have been very positive.’ Nurse Jeannie leafs through my personnel file. ‘A lot of them enjoy their chats when you’re on duty. You’re obviously completing all the washing and cleaning tasks while you discuss the movies or holidays or the new royal baby or whatever it is you gossip about, because I’ve had no complaints from anyone on the quality of your work.’
She looks up at me and taps her pen on the folder.
‘That’s great,’ I mumble, trying to read the remarks upside down. Has she sussed that there’s one patient who is not getting the regulation morning wash? ‘So I’m doing OK, then.’
‘More than OK. And that goes for the staff as well as the clients. We all like having you here. I like having you here.’ She coughs and taps the pen against her mouth.
