He hurried to the hospital. It had occurred to him Michela would need clothes, pyjamas, toiletries and so on. He unlocked the chalet and searched. Clive hadn’t tried to tidy or left any notes. How different from their own home where everything had always been ironed and ordered, where Gloria always left explanatory yellow Post — its on cupboard and fridge. Vince wasn’t even sure if the things he found had been washed. The intimacy excited him. There were toiletry products with Italian and German names. A complete scandal, Mandy repeated, running over to say goodbye again. I wish I’d been there to give him a piece of my mind. She was angry. She took both Vince’s hands. She is jealous of the girl, Vince knew. It was silly. Of a girl who had tried to kill herself. Our families are indissolubly linked, Adam said wryly. The man offered his hand. Steady on, Vince smiled. He wouldn’t open to him. Don’t worry, I won’t fight the water, he told Keith. The paunchy man had a twinkle in his eye. Wish I was staying, mate. He was enjoying Mandy’s rage. Please, Tom whispered, give her my love. This— he handed over a beer — mat with a scribble— is my e — mail address.
And now Vince was repeating to some sort of ward sister that he was not Michela’s uncle. He spoke very slowly and clearly. It was important to have that farce out of the way. I — am — not — her — uncle. No. The truth was he had only just learned her surname: Donati. But I would like to see a doctor about her. Yes. She hasn’t woken up, the nurse warned. The woman was grim. She shook her head under a green cap. Not voken, she repeated. And not all the staff were here on Sundays. Vince waited more than an hour in a corridor before a doctor took him into a small office to insist that they must inform the girl’s next of kin. They couldn’t discuss the matter with a stranger. As always, Vince explained the situation truthfully. He had put on the most serious clothes he had with him. Cotton trousers, a battered linen jacket. The doctor didn’t agree: On the contrary, I think it is very probable that she really wants her mother to know most. He too spoke with a strong accent. She wants to say, look, Mutti, I can kill myself too. For some children, this is a way of showing they have become adult.
Vince was polite. I can only tell you the very little I know, he said. His whole career had been built on a habit of complete candour. He didn’t trust himself to lie. From the one personal conversation I had with her, he said, I would say that seeing her mother might be counterproductive. She might react very badly. She was very angry with her family. The doctor pursed his lips, played with his pen. He was a small earnest man in his mid thirties. No doubt he knows the regulations. Her boyfriend, Vince repeated, the man she lives with, will be back on Thursday. He had to go to Berlin. The doctor shook his head. I don’t think so, Mr, er, Marshall, yes? I don’t think the partner of a pretty woman goes away at a time like this. What could be more important?
Vince offered no comment. They looked at each other across a metal table — top. You have hurt yourself too, I see? Just a couple of stitches, Vince admitted. Aren’t you a bit old for falling in rivers? This was irritating. I don’t think age has much to do with it, doctor. The doctor played with a pen. You have only known her a week, then? Five days, Vince said. And why are you the one to stay now? Her boyfriend asked me to; I was the only person with my own car. So you have no special relationship with her? Vince sighed. A friend, nothing else, a member of the same group. Then he added: People have a strong sense of solidarity, you know, doctor, when they do these things together. I’m sure that is true, Mr Marshall. Now, you will please inform the mother of this accident, or you will find the telephone number so we can inform, okay? Okay, Vince said. He hesitated. Can I see her, though? Should I leave my own phone number? I have a mobile.
To his surprise, he was allowed to sit by the bed. There was a cabinet to put her clothes and things in, but Vince decided first he would find a laundry. Michela lay as if deeply asleep. Her breathing seemed normal enough; the face, with its high cheeks and tanned skin, was transformed by a huge bruise beneath the eye. She’s sweating, he noticed. He wondered if perhaps they had covered her up too much. Gloria always had stories about the incompetence of nurses. I’m on Gloria’s territory, he thought. He picked up a hand and said, Michela. Michela? He wouldn’t call her Micky. Funny, her hands were quite unscathed. She hadn’t grabbed at anything. She hadn’t tried to save herself. The skin was cool and soft. Not the heavy cold Gloria’s had been.
After twenty minutes he left her and walked into Bruneck, but everything was closed. Church bells were clanging. He couldn’t buy a phone charger and he couldn’t find a launderette. He bought a coffee, a pastry, and sat out in the same square where he had been with Keith and Michela three days ago. I am waiting again, he thought, waiting to be someone new. But it had been a pleasure to use his old persona on the doctor, the quiet authority he knew he transmitted. When he returned to the campsite the others had gone. How hot it is, Vince realised, when you’re not spending the day on the river. The air in the chalet was stifling. He suddenly felt tired, uncomfortable. In Sand in Taufers he bought a Herald Tribune and discovered it was the warmest summer ever recorded. In France old people were dying like flies. Clive was vindicated, then. What could be more important at a moment like this than a summit on global warming? The markets seem stable enough, though. Vince didn’t study the figures. He glanced, but his mind wouldn’t focus. I’m still on holiday, he decided.
He drove to the river where it tumbled into the gorge above the town. This was where Clive had parked the minibus after their walk on the glacier. I can’t keep away, he realised. He stepped carefully down the steep path that followed the rapid, trying to remember not to grab at anything with his bad hand. Pushing through tangled branches, he found a place that allowed him to see the fifty yards of wild water he had traversed. There was the rock that had pinned him. Was it? He wasn’t sure. It was strange to think he had been upside down in that tumult. Tons of water crashed constantly against a black solid mass. I didn’t really take it in. But this was certainly the rock he had climbed out on. Yes. He recognised the dome — like shape, the way the stream swirled round and by. What happens to a ring under water? How far would it travel? Is this, perhaps, it crossed his mind, how the old tramp first started hanging about the river, after some accident? A death even. His wife had drowned. Or a child. Probably not, Vince thought. Probably he had fished on the river as a boy. It’s the natural place for him to be. And yesterday he had saved Phil’s life. How casual that seemed! The boy had forgotten almost at once. Then Vince realised his phone was ringing. He liked to keep the tones discreet and the water was thundering. Mr Marshall, could you come to the hospital?
It was after three now. I can’t believe it! Michela was muttering. Her lips were pale. She was attached to a drip but nothing else. In the only other bed, beneath the window, an older woman was unconscious. Michela! Vince said. Again he was surprised they had left him alone. You’re awake! He felt an intense, nervous pleasure, an apprehension. Where’s Clive? she asked in a low voice. I thought they meant Clive was coming.