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fists against his chest and Bill held her until she wore herself out, emotionally and physically. With her head resting on his shoulder and her body limp and moulded to his body, Bill looked down at her tear-stained face.

A minute later he was carrying Margot to the ambulance. ‘Emergency,’ he said. ‘My wife has lost consciousness.’

The headlines read FANS KEEP ALL NIGHT VIGIL OUTSIDE HOSPITAL.

‘Can she hear me?’ Bill asked.

‘We can’t be sure in cases like your wife’s.’

Bill? I can hear you, Margot wanted to say, but only tears came. Bill sounded concerned, worried. She could feel his hand on her arm. Another man was speaking, but she didn’t recognise his voice. She didn’t know who he was, and she didn’t care. They were talking about her as if she wasn’t in the room.

The other man said, ‘It’s shock. We’ve given her a thorough medical and apart from the cuts on her hands and legs – and of course her ankle – there’s nothing physically wrong.’

Her mouth was dry. She was thirsty. She tried to lick her lips.

‘Doctor? My wife moved,’ Bill said, stroking Margot’s hair. ‘She tried to open her mouth.’

‘Bill?’

‘I’m here, love.’

Margot felt wet cotton wool on her lips. She tried to suck the moisture from it. ‘Bill,’ she said again, opening her eyes, and then closing them against the light.

She heard a rustle of fabric and what sounded like curtains being drawn. ‘It’s a lovely day,’ a cheery female with a Southern Irish accent said, ‘but the sun’s shining directly into your eyes, and we don’t want that now, do we?’ When Margot opened her eyes again, the blinds were closed.

‘Where am I?’

‘You’re in hospital, sweetheart.’

‘Hospital?’

‘Yes. But there’s nothing to worry about,’ Bill said, dabbing gently at her tears.

Margot tried to sit up. ‘Here, let me.’ The Irish nurse helped Margot to lean forward and slipped a pillow behind her back.

‘Thank you.’ Margot closed her eyes. The small amount of effort had tired her.

Bill pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed. He thanked the nurse as she left.

Margot opened her eyes at the sound of Bill’s voice, smiled, and closed them again. When she woke, Bill was still there, his hand on her arm.

Margot tried to move, but couldn’t. ‘My legs feel numb. They’re stiff. And my right ankle hurts. What’s the matter with my legs, Bill?’

‘They’re bandaged. There’s nothing to worry about. You got tangled up in some rusty wire and they were cut pretty badly.’

What little colour there was in Margot’s face drained away.

‘They’re on the mend,’ Bill said.

‘Doctor says when he’s finished with you,’ the nurse said, returning with fresh water, ‘you won’t even have scars.’

‘Scars?’ Margot looked at the raised quilt over her legs. ‘What’s the matter with my ankle?’

‘Badly sprained,’ the nurse said. ‘But it will be as good as new in no time. Right! Let me know if you want anything.’ She plumped up Margot’s pillows. ‘I’m only outside, at the nurse’s station.’

Margot watched the nurse leave the room. Then she turned to Bill. Tears filled her eyes. ‘Nancy’s dead, isn’t she?’

Bill nodded. ‘I’m so sorry, Margot. There was nothing anyone could do…’

‘How’s Salvatore? Have you seen him?’

‘Yes. He’s been in to see you every day since--’

Exhausted, Margot closed her eyes. She was asleep in seconds.

She had no idea how long she’d been asleep. The sun was no longer on the window, so an hour, maybe two, had passed. Bill was speaking quietly to someone. She opened her eyes to see Salvatore standing in the doorway. He was shaking Bill’s hand. Was he leaving? She didn’t want him to leave. ‘Salvatore? Don’t go.’ Margot pushed herself up to a more comfortable position and motioned to the chair at the side of the bed.

‘Dear Margot, I am sorry we woke you.’ Salvatore came to her and sat in the chair. Bill stood behind him.

‘You didn’t.’ Margot choked back her tears. She wouldn’t cry in front of Nancy’s fiancé. His loss was far greater than hers. She would be brave for him, and for Nancy.

‘How have you been?’ she asked, and then said immediately, ‘Sorry, that was a stupid question, forgive me.’

Salvatore shook his head. ‘Not stupid, Margot. You could never be stupid.’ He didn’t speak for a minute. Then he said, ‘The light in my world has gone out. It is as if the last five years were make-believe. As if I was living in a beautiful and loving dream that turned into a dark and lonely nightmare.’ Tears spilt onto his cheeks.

Margot laid her bandaged hand on Salvatore’s arm and at the same time Bill squeezed his shoulder. Salvatore half turned to acknowledge the gesture. ‘I am like a machine. I get up as soon as it is light, and I walk the streets until it is time to go to work. When I finish at one, two o’clock in the morning, I go back to my apartment. The apartment where my beautiful Nancy and I were going to live when we married.’ Salvatore buried his head in his hands and wept.

Margot didn’t know what to say. It was Bill who broke the silence. Looking at Margot, he said, ‘Never having lost anyone I love, I can only imagine how you must be feeling. If there is anything I can do, my friend, anything at all...’

Margot looked at Bill, fighting to hold back the tears.

Salvatore nodded. ‘Thank you, Bill. Everyone says once the funeral is over, there is closure. I don’t want closure. I want my beautiful Nancy.’

Margot spoke softly. ‘When is Nancy’s funeral?’

Salvatore took a short sharp breath and put his hands up to his face. He turned to Bill.

‘What? Salvatore? Bill? What aren’t you telling me?’

‘The doctors said you weren’t well enough

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