despite the deep chill of Venice in December, and her knees felt as if someone had attacked them with a baseball bat. She’d never been more grateful to hear the sound of a siren so close. Looking up, as she paused to let another two breaths be delivered, she was astonished to see that it was a jet boat, arriving on the canal, complete with flashing beacons and a uniformed paramedic, with a defibrillator in his hand, waiting to jump ashore.
She knew better than to stop what she was doing and wait for these emergency medics to take over the scene. Automatically, she rocked forward, her hands back in position on the centre of the man’s chest with one flat and the other locked around the wrist to give her extra strength as she pushed down and began the count that would remain silent until the warning of breaths needed.
One…two…three…
Nico could hear the shouts of the paramedics arriving and securing the ambulance. Thank goodness! The discomfort of kneeling on cold, hard cobbles to perform CPR was truly unbearable.
Not that the English woman was showing any signs of discomfort. Nico had been watching her, waiting for the signal to deliver another couple of breaths but also because she was so…so in control. So very British.
She had that English peaches and cream type of complexion and the kind of reserve that always felt so foreign to Nico, but he had spent so many years away from Italy it was very familiar. So familiar, in fact, that he could imagine he’d met this woman before. He’d certainly met the type.
Virtually the exact opposite of the type of women he preferred.
It was perhaps unfortunate that he’d inherited his father’s taste in women. He liked them small and dark, curvy and vivacious. With an appetite for life and fun that could negate any tendency to take life too seriously out of working hours. But as long as he didn’t make his father’s mistake of marrying a woman like this, he wouldn’t end up abandoned and broken-hearted when someone on another continent offered something more exciting. Like when his father’s beloved Irish wife had simply taken their only child and made off for greener pastures.
Nico shook off the thought. Normally, snippets of family history would never distract him from a situation like this but his mind had been full of it until the moment he’d intervened in this rescue scene. Even now, he was aware of the small object in his pocket that the solicitor had insisted he take with him. It should be small enough to dismiss out of hand but unfortunately it carried a significance that could never be dismissed.
He had to push it firmly to one side right now, however. After a second glance to reassure himself that the paramedics were coming in the right direction, Nico took another look at the woman who hadn’t missed a beat in performing the chest compressions.
Strands of her blonde hair had worked themselves loose thanks to her current physical exertion but the rest of it was still tightly bound into an intricate kind of knot that removed the feminine allure of long tresses. She had grey eyes that could have looked attractively smoky but she was so focused on the clinical aspects of this situation that they were devoid of an identifiable emotion.
Even now, as the paramedics set up the defibrillator and prepared to take over the management of this patient, he couldn’t detect any sign of relief or distress, perhaps, that she’d been caught up in this traumatic event. She was watching what the paramedics were doing with hawk-like intensity. She might not speak Italian but Nico had the distinct impression that she wouldn’t hesitate to correct these medics if she felt things were not being done to an expected standard.
He filled them in as they attached the patches to the man’s chest. He provided the cervical spine support as preparations were made to secure the airway and the first shock was delivered, but then a second crew arrived, along with the police, and Nico found himself stepping back and merely watching, along with the crowd of people the police couldn’t manage to disperse.
The English doctor was in the same position. Nico saw her tucking the hem of her blouse back into the tight waistband of her skirt. He noticed the holes in her tights and the red, grazed skin of her knees. He could feel the ache in his own joints and it gave him an oddly powerful feeling of connection with this stranger. He tried to catch her eye and smile but she was looking at her watch and frowning, as though she was running late for something.
And then she looked over her shoulder and her frown deepened. Whatever she was looking for was obscured by the crowd of people who were watching in fascination as the resuscitation scene reached fever pitch.
The man’s airway was secured and a paramedic was delivering oxygen via a bag mask unit. An IV line was in place and drugs had been administered. And then the shout was given to stand clear and another shock was delivered.
There was a collective gasp from the onlookers as the man’s body jerked in response to the shock and then silence fell as everybody held their breath. Only those closest could see the blip on the screen of the life pack and then another and another as the rhythm picked up. One of the paramedics felt the neck of the patient and grinned at his colleague.
‘We have a pulse.’
A cheer went up from the crowd and the atmosphere only became more excited as the emergency services prepared to transport the man to hospital as quickly as possible. People were moving away in response to the shouted instructions of the police officer and Nico saw the English woman disappearing behind others.
He couldn’t let her vanish. Somebody had to thank her for her contribution to saving the man’s life.
‘Scusi.’ Again, Nico pushed his way through the human obstruction. He was going against the flow towards the canal and where they were trying to manoeuvre the stretcher that now carried the still-unconscious man into the ambulance, but that was also the direction in which the woman was going. She was still looking for something, her head bent as she peered around people, and suddenly Nico spotted what she was after. A black laptop case, propped against the wooden piling the ambulance launch had been tied up to.
He could get to it first. She’d have to stop and talk to him then and he could thank her. Get her address, maybe, and then follow up on the patient and let her know the outcome. With a determined effort Nico stepped in front of a man and reached for The case. He had it in his hand when someone bumped into him from behind with such force that his hand simply opened. The case fell, bounced on the cobbles and fell again, in a graceful arc, to land in the canal. For a second or two it floated on the surface. And then it sank.
Charlotte watched the laptop case disappear under the murky water of the canal, its disappearance hastened by the wash of the ambulance as it took off with its beacons flashing and siren sounding.
If she took her shoes and jacket off…
Good grief…was she actually considering diving in to try and retrieve it before it sank too far?
The downward glance towards her shoes had hammered home the reality of what was happening. Straightening and dusting off her skirt after she’d got to her feet hadn’t cured the creases and streaks of grime. Her tights were shredded and one knee was grazed enough for a trickle of blood to be obvious.
Her armour had been dented.
But worse than that—far, far worse than that—her shield had been ripped away from her and destroyed.
‘Oh…my…God…’ Charlotte had about a heartbeat before she knew the fear would try and kick in.
The man was turning towards her, clearly appalled at what had just happened.
She
