‘Si,’ he said firmly. ‘Per favore.’
A glance around the towering walls dividing her from Molly was all it took to convince Nell she had to comply. When he handed her the form she had to fill in Nell measured the sheets in one angry gesture. She had to fight for control. ‘Un—er—biro, signor, per piacere?’
‘Certo.’ With obvious relief he handed a pen over.
Nell raced through the form, interpreting it as best she could. Fortunately, forms the world over were much the same, and she did have some experience of filling them in, though she tried not to think about the last time she had done so. When she had finished the guard took them from her and checked each page meticulously.
‘Can I go now?’ It was like being back at school. Only she was older, and this wasn’t playtime.
‘Si, signora.’ The guard pulled back from the opening.
His manner had changed to reveal more consideration. But she didn’t want to dwell on the sympathy she could see in his eyes: she had to stay strong; she had to pay careful attention to his directions. She would forgive him anything if he would just hurry!
Nell abandoned the pushchair, and started to run.
The first corridor she came across was long and featureless. At the end she had two choices. Molly’s trail had vanished. Nell stared from left to right and back again. Then in answer to her prayer a door opened.
‘My daughter, mia figlia…trauma…?’ Nell tried everything she could think of as the nurse came towards her.
‘La piccola raggazina?’
‘Si!’
The nurse put a hand on her arm, which Nell shook off angrily. The nurse seemed to understand, though, and smiled reassurance. ‘This way, signora. Please, come with me.’
The nurse seemed so bright, so happy and confident. Nell told herself her manner had to be a sign that Molly must have recovered. She was even smiling expectantly as they walked through some swing doors into a treatment room. But the smell of antiseptic hit her, tossing her back into the nightmare of Jake’s accident, and the lights were so bright…
As Nell began to orientate herself she felt the nurse’s steadying hand creep beneath her arm.
Molly was lying propped up on a bank of pillows. Her tiny arms were like sticks at either side of her body, her tiny fists digging into the mattress as if she was struggling to hold herself even more erect in order to breathe. Was she awake? It was impossible to tell.
For the first time since this whole dreadful episode had started Nell found she was hoping Molly wasn’t. She didn’t want her to be awake while her fragile blue-veined chest was pumping frantically. She looked in agony, and the strain on her heart had to be enormous.
Slowly Nell’s focus expanded to take in the nurse standing at each corner of the bed. Luca was standing at the head of it, closest to Molly. He turned as if he had been expecting her.
‘There’s nothing more you can do?’ She guessed that much and then thought his lips looked dry. She noticed that he had to moisten them with his tongue before he could answer.
‘No.’
She waited, but that was all he said. Without waiting to be invited Nell went straight to Molly’s side. Kneeling on the floor, she took her daughter’s hand and pressed it to her cheek. Then the miracle she been hoping for happened. Opening her eyes, clutching at her throat, Molly turned her head.
‘Mumma,’ she gasped.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘NO! YOU can’t ask me to go there. I hate Venice! I’m never going back! Not even for the sake of the organisation…’
That was what she’d said to her committee, Nell remembered, yet here she was, speaking in Venice to introduce the hospital patients’ support charity she had founded almost ten years before. The cause she believed in so passionately was far more important than any personal considerations.
She’d had plenty of practice and was a seasoned public speaker, but even so she was nervous tonight. Nowhere made Nell quite so tense as Venice, with its stylish inhabitants and bitter memories. And although only one doctor was holding out against her scheme, he was influencing everyone else. He was Medical Director of his family’s hospital trust, the man the rest looked to for their lead—the man she had to convince if this hospital was to be the flagship to spread her scheme across Venice and then Italy, as they had planned. Nell was the scheme’s founder, the one who could persuade the obstinate Medical Director to get the ball rolling. So, here she was. Shaking.
The moment she had been told the name of the doctor she had to convince, a face had flashed into her head. She had tried to deny the possibility that it was the same man, telling herself that the Dr Barbaro she’d met would have moved on by now. Barbaro was a popular surname in Italy, and ‘her’ Luca Barbaro belonged to the past, along with Molly’s nightmarish and thankfully only truly serious asthma attack.
It had taken time to confirm. Asthma wasn’t easy to be sure of in a very young child. But he’d been sure, Nell remembered. Luca Barbaro had been sure of his diagnosis and had put her in touch with the very best specialist in the field, a man who would continue the investigations he had started when they returned home.
A lot of things had changed since then, Nell thought, viewing her face critically in the mirror. She’d known that if she wanted to win people over she had to inspire confidence. The first thing to go had been her spiky hair. She smiled as she started brushing out her shoulder-length bob. It was hard to believe she had once sported such a radical hairstyle and boho clothes.
She was especially glad to be wearing her confidence-inspiring uniform today. She needed it more than the audience! The crisp white shirt, dark business suit and low-heeled courts formed a suit of armour she could hide behind.
She wasn’t going to let the past—any part of it—interfere with the project that was so dear to her. But she knew at least some of the adrenaline racing through her veins was for the memory of the man who had stood so squarely against her in Venice. Enough time had passed for her to be able to separate Luca Barbaro the man from Luca Barbaro the doctor tending Molly—and the man had left a lasting impression.
Nell’s face lit up as her thoughts switched to her boisterous ten-year-old. Molly was here with her now in Venice. Some of Jake’s insurance money had been used to employ the very best nanny Nell could find, an older woman called Marianna, who travelled everywhere with them. The three of them lived a simple life, with no men to complicate the situation. Living without romance had proved easier than Nell had imagined. The most important thing was that Molly had consistency in her life. She would not risk some man breezing into their lives then breezing out again. She had better things to think about.
Nell sensed Molly’s approach before she even heard her daughter’s footsteps. Just as on every other day, she spared a moment to give thanks for Molly’s continued good health and by the time the door burst open, she was standing in front of it with her arms spread wide in invitation. As Molly flung herself into Nell’s embrace, it was hard to imagine that this was the child who had been taken so gravely ill the last time they had visited Venice.
She had Barbaro to thank for that, Nell reflected. And yes, perhaps she had been guilty of underestimating him at the time. But she had been so strung out, and had thought him too young to deal with such a critical situation. It was largely thanks to him Molly had recovered, that she was able to live a normal life and engage in every activity a child of her age was entitled to enjoy.
His parting letter to them had been brief but detailed and Nell could remember her surprise when she’d received it. She still resented the way he’d walked out on them both without a backward glance the instant Molly was moved into the children’s ward. They hadn’t seen him again, not once—his letter had been handed to her by a nurse. But she