New Title 1 (60 page)

“I’m real sorry to hear that, Miss Venzi, but you’ll have to go through the usual channels: have your newspaper contact the Corps’ Division of Public Affairs and…”

“I don
’t have time for that! Listen to me! He’s hurt really badly – I don’t know if he’ll… I
have
to get there. Please, sergeant… he’s one of your own – he’s a United States Marine.”

There was a silence at the end of the line. Then he said, “Give me three hours.”

Sergeant Benson was as good as his word.

I called Ches to let him know I was on the move, and promised to get in touch as soon as I had any further news.

A hundred-and-fifty minutes later, I was on my way back to Lashkar Gah. Sergeant Benson had moved heaven and earth to get me where I needed to be. I would never forget his kindness.

To say David was surprised to see me would be a vast understatement. But he didn’t waste any time asking me stupid questions either.

As soon as he saw me, he said, “He
’s still alive, Caroline.”

“Thank
God.”

Those brief words flooded through me, and some of the weight on my chest that
had made it hurt to breathe, eased just a little.

He led me through a complex of tents and portable huts, and into what looked like
the ICU department of a modern, urban hospital.

“He
’s in here.”

The room was small and brightly lit. Sebastian lay on a hospital bed with a number of tubes and monitors attached to him.
His left arm was elevated and he was breathing on a ventilator, his chest rising and falling in time with the machine. It was the only sign he was alive: he was so still and pale.

Below his waist, he was covered with a thin blanket which rose in a mound over the cage that protected his right leg.

Thank God – they’d saved his leg.

A man in desert utilities was standing over
Sebastian. At first I thought he was a doctor, but then I heard what he was saying, the rhythmical cadence of words repeated too many times.

“O Father of mercies and God of all comfort, our only help in time of need
…”

I
recognized the prayer for the sick.

“
We humbly beseech thee to behold, visit and relieve thy sick servant
Sebastian Hunter,
for whom our prayers are desired. Look upon
him
with the eyes of thy mercy; comfort
him
with a sense of thy goodness; preserve
him
from the temptations of the enemy; and give
him
patience under
his
affliction. In thy good time, restore
him
to health, and enable
him
to lead the residue of
his
life in thy fear, and to thy glory; and grant that finally
Sebastian
may dwell with thee in life everlasting; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen
.
”

“Amen,” I echoed, softly.

The man turned around, and I wasn’t surprised to see that he was wearing the white collar of a priest.

I crossed myself.

“Thank you, Padre.”

“Is he a friend of yours?”

I nodded. “He’s my fiancé,” I said, quietly.

I couldn
’t see David’s face, but I heard his sudden intake of breath behind me.

The priest
patted my arm.

“God hears all prayers, my child. And your young man is very strong.”

He gave me a small smile, nodded at David, and left the room.

“You
’re marrying him?” asked David, his voice oddly strained. “You didn’t say that when I saw you before in Kabul. You said you’d only just met again.”

I looked up sharply. “I wasn
’t lying, David. This is… very new.”

“I
’m sorry…” he began. Then he cleared his throat and started again.

“They
’ve managed to save the leg for now, but there’s still some doubt about whether it’s viable. The next few days will be critical. There was dirt in the shrapnel and he’s contracted Acinetobacter baumannii – it’s a common infection out here. We’re treating it with antibiotics but…” he sighed. “And he’s been put into a medically-induced coma: we were worried about brain swelling as he received a shockwave from the bomb… That’s quite typical with these sorts of injuries.”

I nodded, unable to speak.

“I’m sorry, Caroline,” he said again. “Well, if you need anything…”

Hesitantly, David rested his hand on my shoulder, then turned and left me alone with my grief.

I picked up Sebastian’s hand and held it in my own. The fingers felt cold, so I held them to my mouth and blew on them softly, trying to heat them with my breath, just as he had done, only three weeks before in Chamonix.

Dear God:
that seemed a lifetime ago. He’d been so alive, so vibrant, so full of hope, and now...

I held his hand to my cheek and closed my eyes.

“Come back to me, Sebastian. Please, tesoro, you have to fight. You’ve always been so strong, don’t give up now; don’t give up on us. I need you. Come back to me. Please, come back to me.”

The ventilator rose and fell, his chest rose and fell, but Sebastian
’s eyes remained closed.

I talked to him all
day: telling him about the bungalow, and the way the ocean trembled with light in the summer sun, and the way the sky seemed to reach long fingers down to the waves in a storm, spray mingling with rain. I told him about Alice’s kindness and humor; about Jenna’s fieriness; and the way Nicole was always trying to set me up on dates – but that I didn’t need her to do that anymore. And I told him what Ches had said to me on the telephone.

“He told me to kick your butt right out of this hospital bed, Sebastian. You promised him you
’d go surfing in California after this tour; a fact that you completely forgot to mention to me, I might add. Do you want to have our honeymoon in California, tesoro? Because I don’t care where we have it. Anywhere you like, my love. Sebastian, can you hear me? I love you so much – we have our whole lives ahead of us. I’ll go anywhere, do anything to be with you. Just please wake up, tesoro.”

A medic came past and checked the machine
’s readouts, before methodically pushing some more meds into the IV bag that was suspended next to the bed.

“You a friend of his, ma
’am?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Perhaps you can help me then? We found a letter on him when he was brought in, but the name isn’t anyone on his emergency contact list. We just held onto it, kinda hoping we could find someone to give it to. Do you know a ‘Carolina Hunter’ ma’am? We figured it was some relative of his, but so far we can’t trace her.”

I gasped slightly, then nodded. “Yes, I know her. I
’ll make sure she gets it.”

“Thank you, ma
’am.”

He reached into a locker next to Sebastian
’s bed and pulled out a muddy envelope. When he handed it to me, I realized it wasn’t covered in dirt, but blood – Sebastian’s blood. The medic shrugged his apology, and walked away to check on his next patient.

My hands shook as I tore open the envelope. There was a single sheet of lined paper
with a ragged edge inside, probably torn from a notebook. One side contained a short message in Sebastian’s careful handwriting.

Caro, my love,

Just writing these words makes me happier than I can remember being for a very long time – ten years, in fact.

I’m not one for words – I leave that to you – my beautiful, talented Caro. But we’ve had the news we were waiting for and soon we’ll be heading out. I hope you never read this letter, but if you do, it means I’ve gone on to the next big adventure.

Knowing that you are in the world and wearing my ring, makes me the happiest man alive, and the last few weeks have been the best and happiest of my whole life.

Be happy, Caro, because that’s what you deserve.

I love you, I have always loved you, and wherever I go after this world, I will always love you. Sempre e per sempre.

Sebastian

I clutched his letter to my chest, trying to find a way to fill the aching void. I couldn’t understand why my heart was still beating.

I gave up trying to be strong. I lay my head next to his hand, and my tears soaked into the crisp, white sheet.

My love was slipping away from me, and there was nothing I could do.

The night passed and I sat staring at Sebastian’s face, memorizing every line and angle: the softness of his cheeks, now covered with a fine, light brown stubble; the full, sensual lips, distorted by the breathing tube that had been placed into his throat; the strong, straight nose; the wide forehead; the beautiful symmetry of his cheekbones. But his lovely eyes, the windows to his sweet soul, were hidden.

I whispered my secrets to him, all my desires and fears, hoping that in some way he knew
that I was with him. I ran my fingers along the back of his hand and up his forearm, tracing the faint veins, knowing that they were still pumping blood through his body, and that the fight wasn’t over.

David returned at some point, although whether it was day or night by then, I couldn
’t tell.

“Caroline, perhaps you should try and get some sleep. I
’ve arranged for you to have a cot-bed in the doctors’ lounge. Well, it’s not much of a lounge, more of a shed really.”

“Thank you, David. That
’s very kind of you. Maybe later.”

He looked at me thoughtfully.

“He’s holding on, Caroline. He’s strong, but… they’re trying to decide whether to medivac him to Germany. It just depends on… whether he’s stable enough to make the journey.”

I stared up at him.

“Why are you being so nice to me, David? I always thought you must hate me after… everything that happened.”

He
looked surprised, then rubbed a hand tiredly across his cheeks.