One Summer in Italy…

CHAPTER TWELVE

NOTHING in Holly’s life recently had been what she would have once called normal, so the strangeness of the next few weeks was merely another kind of unreality.

It had its own intense sweetness. The closeness she shared with Matteo was past naming. It might have been love, but they never spoke the word, by night or day. When there were others around they maintained a friendly demeanour, full of propriety but no passion. At night they would go wordlessly into each other’s arms, sharing the joy of mutual need and fulfilment. Afterwards they would sink into the sleep of the blessed.

But hanging over this was the ever-present danger. Time passed without the police tracking down their quarry. He was nowhere. He was everywhere.

She would see Matteo off in the morning knowing that she might never see him again, and welcome him home in the evening, knowing that it might be for the last time.

The house was under permanent guard, although for Liza’s sake the men didn’t wear uniforms, and could have been gardeners. When the time came for her to go to school Matteo hired tutors so that she needed not leave the house. Between her lessons, visits from the physiotherapist and her time with Holly, she was content.

Her condition was improving, although she still had to take a nap in the afternoons. Often she argued, but Holly would hold firm, except for once when she allowed the child to stay up and finish a book that had seized her imagination. But the next day Liza seemed sleepy, and made no protest about going to bed for an hour.

Holly took the chance of a nap herself. She had had almost no sleep the night before.

She awoke to find Anna shaking her.

‘The little girl isn’t well,’ she said anxiously. ‘She’s just been sick.’

She raced into Liza’s room and found her sitting up, being comforted by a maid, who’d removed the soiled dress. The child was weeping.

‘Hello, darling,’ Holly said as cheerfully as possible. ‘Let’s see what’s wrong with you.’

‘My head aches,’ Liza complained.

Gently Holly laid her hand on her forehead, startled by what she found there. Liza’s temperature had climbed to an alarming height, and she was trying to cover her eyes.

‘Piccina, look at me,’ Holly urged.

‘No, my eyes hurt,’ Liza choked.

‘All right, don’t worry,’ she said. ‘Everything is going to be all right.’

Outside the door she spoke urgently to Anna. ‘I need the family doctor. Please call him and tell him to come quickly.’

The doctor, an elderly man who had treated the family for years, was there in half an hour. He looked grave as he took Liza’s temperature and looked at her flushed, tearful face.

When they’d left the room Holly said, ‘A friend of my mother had a child who suffered like this. It was meningitis.’

‘That’s what I think, too. She must go to hospital at once. I’ll arrange the ambulance to take her to San Piero.’

He made the call while Holly went out to find one of the police guards and explain the situation. The man looked worried.

‘Is it really necessary to move her?’ he asked.

‘It wouldn’t be safe not to,’ Holly told him tensely.

Matteo had left her with a special phone number for the court, to be used only in emergencies. There was still an hour left before the sitting ended for the day. She dialled the number and spoke to Matteo’s clerk.

‘Please tell him that his daughter is seriously ill with possible meningitis, and has been taken to San Piero,’ she said tersely.

The ambulance was there fast, and within a few minutes they were on the road, streaming along the Appian Way to Rome. Holly stayed beside Liza, trying to hold her attention, but not succeeding. The little girl’s eyes were glazed, her breath came in gasps, and although she seemed to look directly at Holly it was plain that she didn’t know she was there.

‘Hold on, darling,’ Holly urged. ‘Just a little further. And Poppa…’

She was going to say that Poppa would be with them soon, but suddenly the words wouldn’t come. Would he really stop work for this child who had lost her place in his heart? The answer should be, Of course he would, but, to her horror, she realised that she wasn’t sure.

It made no difference, she realised. Liza was beyond hearing. If her father was to let her down now, she might never even know.

‘No,’ Holly said frantically. ‘Darling, wake up. It’s going to be all right.’

But the only answer was Liza’s harsh breathing.

‘He’ll be at the hospital,’ Holly assured herself. ‘He hasn’t so far to travel. He’ll get there before us.’

To her relief they were turning through the main gates of the hospital. The ambulance rear doors swung open and she hastened to move out of the way of the nurses. In moments Liza was on a trolley being wheeled inside.

There was no sign of Matteo in Reception and when she asked at the desk, nobody had seen him.

Then she had no time to think of anything but Liza as she was whisked away for tests by grave-faced medical staff. A nurse asked for details.

‘She was fine this morning,’ Holly said wretchedly. ‘A little less lively than usual but I thought she’d missed out on sleep. If only-’

‘It comes on very swiftly,’ the nurse said. ‘Often there’s nothing to warn anyone until the last moment.’

‘She had a nap and when she woke up she was sick…her head hurt.’

‘Her father-’

‘I’ve left a message for him.’

But why isn’t he here? she thought. It doesn’t take so long to get here from the court, if he left at once.

If he left at once.

But did he? Did he remember that she was not his child, and so bring the blank down over his feelings? Did he wait until the last minute, calling it his duty?

At the thought, a desolate wind seemed to sweep over her heart. In the short, precious time allowed them they had discovered so much happiness that it was painful to think of the little girl kept on the outside. Sometimes she had a wretched feeling that if Matteo couldn’t learn to accept Liza completely, then her own love for him would always remain incomplete, and perhaps would not last.

But he would be here any moment. She was sure of it.

Things began to move quickly. The doctor, who knew Liza from her last time in the hospital, confronted Holly with the final diagnosis.

‘Bacterial meningitis,’ he said with quiet gravity. ‘Which, I’m afraid, means that it’s very bad. I’m going to put her on intravenous injections of antibiotics to combat the infection. You too will need antibiotics in case you have contracted it from her, also her father.’

There was a question in his voice and Holly was forced to say, ‘He will be here soon. I sent a message.’

‘I hope you stressed the urgency because…’ he hesitated before saying slowly, ‘things could turn very bleak indeed, very soon.’

She nodded, sick at heart.

Matteo would not be here-at least, not in time. Liza would die without the comfort of his love, and her own love for him would wither away.

But she couldn’t think too much about that now. Whatever misery might wait in the future, only Liza mattered at this moment.

When she was allowed to see her again she found the little girl lying still, attached to machines, her face dangerously flushed. Holly touched her hand lightly, but there was no response.

Would there ever be one? Holly wondered. Or would she die without knowing that her father had finally turned his back on her?

She settled beside the bed, the child’s hand in hers, and waited in patient silence, while her heart began to harden.

The nurse stayed in the room, checking machines regularly, but Holly was aware of nothing but herself and Liza. It was as though they were both travelling down a dark tunnel that led to the unknown, with only each other for comfort. And there was nobody else with them.

Once she felt Liza’s hand move gently in hers, and her lips framed a word that might have been ‘Poppa’. But Holly couldn’t be sure.

Lost in this unhappy dream, she barely heard the footsteps outside. But as they grew closer she became aware of a commotion, voices raised in protest. As she looked up the door was flung open and Matteo burst in. His eyes were wild and he blurted out fierce questions as though they terrified him.

‘How is she? What’s happened?’

‘She has bacterial meningitis, and she’s very bad. Why didn’t you come before? I called hours ago.’

‘I know that now, but I didn’t get the message at the time. I’ll tell you all about it later. Tell me she isn’t dying.’

‘I can’t,’ Holly said softly, moving back to let him come to the bed.

It was too much to take in quickly, but one thing reached her: he hadn’t ignored her message. He was still the man she believed in.

He sat down, taking Liza’s hand, speaking to her urgently.

‘She can’t hear you, I’m afraid,’ the nurse said. ‘She’s deeply unconscious.’

‘She’s so hot,’ Matteo murmured. ‘How did it all happen?’

Holly told him the day’s events, but she could tell that he barely heard. All his attention was for the little girl on the bed, her hand resting unresponsively in his.

‘Piccina,’ he said urgently, ‘wake up, please. I’m here. Poppa’s here.’

‘No,’ came a faint whisper from the bed. ‘He won’t come.’

Matteo and Holly looked quickly at each other.

‘What did she say?’ he demanded breathlessly. ‘I didn’t catch it.’

‘She said her father won’t come,’ Holly told him reluctantly.

‘But I’m here,’ he said frantically. ‘Piccina, Poppa is here.’

‘No-won’t come-he didn’t come-for ages and ages-I cried for him but he didn’t come.’

‘What does she mean by that?’ he demanded.

She could only shake her head, desperate at her failure to help him. Her mind seemed to have seized up. He was looking at her out of anguished eyes.

‘He didn’t come,’ Liza murmured again.

‘What can I do?’ he begged. ‘Holly, for pity’s sake, help me.’

‘I can’t, I-’

‘He didn’t come,’ came the feeble croak, ‘he didn’t even come to see us off…’

Holly’s head shot up as the answer came to her with the dazzling clarity of light. She could see them, a woman and a child sitting in a garden, beside a monument, the child pouring out things she’d never told before, because there was nobody to tell.

‘She’s talking about that other time,’ she breathed, ‘just before last Christmas, when she went away with her mother and you didn’t go to the station to see them off. She knew something was wrong because that had never happened before. She’s living back then.’

‘But can’t she tell that I’m here now?’

In her agitation Holly shook her head violently.

‘Nothing’s happening now, don’t you see? Now doesn’t exist. She’s gone back to the time life stopped for her. When the train turned over she was caught in her mother’s arms. Carol became unconscious but Liza stayed awake. She was alone and frightened and she wanted you, but you didn’t come.’

‘I knew nothing about it. Dear God!’ Matteo dropped his head down onto the bed. After a moment he raised it. ‘What can I say to her?’

‘I can’t tell you that,’ Holly said. ‘But it must come from your heart, or she’ll know.’

‘Poppa-Poppa…’ Liza’s voice had risen onto a note of anguish. ‘Where are you?’

‘I’m here, piccina.’ He took both her hands in his, searching her face, trying to will her to open her eyes.

‘No-no-you never came-Mamma said-I didn’t belong to you…’

He grew very still then, his eyes fixed on the little girl in a kind of dread.

‘Carol couldn’t have told her that,’ he murmured. ‘She couldn’t-’

‘I’m afraid she must have,’ Holly said.

‘But how could she do anything so cruel? How could anyone…? Then she knows everything. Oh, God!’

‘No, I don’t think she does,’ Holly said suddenly. ‘Children put their own meanings on things. She won’t understand that phrase as we understand it.’

He closed his eyes. ‘Please let her wake up. I have to explain to her.’

‘How will you explain this?’

‘I don’t know.’

The nurse brought another chair and they sat on each side of the bed. Holly reached out her hand to him, he took it but his eyes remained fixed on the little girl on the bed, breathing uneasily.

‘Liza,’ he said urgently, ‘Liza!’

There was no reply.

‘No,’ he said in a low voice, ‘no, no! Please, not now!’

Holly watched him through her tears, feeling his agony that he had learned the truth of his own heart when it might already be too late.

Silence and darkness. Time passed. It felt like a lifetime but the clock showed that it was only an hour.

Silence, deep and unfathomable.

‘I was afraid you weren’t coming,’ Holly said quietly.

‘I suppose I deserved that, but you might have trusted me a little more. No-’ he stopped himself quickly ‘-I don’t mean that. Why should you trust me about this? What have I done to deserve trust?’

‘It isn’t your fault-’

‘Not this time, but other times-you thought I’d leave her lying here ill? But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t get here sooner because I was held up by Fortese. He got into the courtroom and held us all at gunpoint.’

‘Oh, dear God-’

‘It’s all right. It’s over. He was too clever for his own good. He insisted on making a speech, saying exactly why he hated me, and that gave the guards time to break in. They grabbed him before he could fire, and hauled him back to gaol. He’s back behind bars right now.’

‘You mean,’ she breathed, hardly daring to hope, ‘it’s over?’

‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘Yes, it is.’

She should be filled with happiness, but the joy was muted by the knowledge of tragedy still threatening. The child on the bed lay motionless as they sat on either side of her. Matteo spoke her name again, but there was no response.

‘It was this way once before,’ he said suddenly.

‘How do you mean?’

‘The night we married I had a bad dream, but you drove it away. I can’t remember details now, but I can still hear your voice saying, “I’m here, I’m here.”’

‘I didn’t know if you’d heard me.’

‘I think your voice could find me through anything. Tell me your secret because I need it desperately now. How do I reach out to my daughter?’

The words ‘my daughter’ caused a small well-spring of happiness to start in her.

‘You just did,’ she said.

Liza stirred and took a long breath.

‘Piccina!’ Matteo was beside her at once, taking both her hands back into his. ‘I’m here-I’m here…’

Consciously or unconsciously he was echoing the words Holly had spoken to him on their wedding night, words that shaped themselves into a promise of comfort and fidelity forever. But could that promise work again?

‘I’m here-’

‘Why-didn’t you come?’ she cried fretfully, her eyes still closed. ‘Mamma said-I don’t belong to you.’

He looked up at Holly. ‘But what does she understand by that?’

Suddenly it came to her, the inspiration she wanted, the only thing that could help him now.

‘Piccina,’ she said, turning to Liza, ‘your parents were both very jealous about you. They each loved you so much that they wanted you just for themselves.’

He drew a sharp breath as understanding came. It was as though a light had come on inside him. He leaned closer to Liza and began to speak in a kind of imploring voice.

‘Mamma said you were hers and I said you were mine-all mine, because I didn’t want to share you. We became angry, and that’s why she took you away, and told you that you didn’t belong to me, only to her.’

‘But I do-belong to you?’

‘Yes, piccina, you’re all mine-’

‘Always-’

‘Always and forever.’

Suddenly Liza took a long breath. A long, agonising silence, then she opened her eyes to see Matteo there.

‘Hello Poppa,’ she whispered.

‘Hello,’ he said shakily, dropping his forehead onto their entwined hands, while his shoulders shook.

After a moment he looked up, this time at Holly, and spoke through his tears.

‘Hello,’ he said.

As soon as Liza was out of danger Matteo arranged for her to come home. Her room was turned into a mini-hospital, and three nurses were hired to give her round-the-clock care.

He spent as much time with her as possible, insisting on taking time off from work, relishing his happiness, and safeguarding it.

Holly would have stood back, letting them be alone to discover each other again. But neither of them would allow that. They opened their arms, drawing her into their magic circle.

Alone with Matteo, the magic was different, profound, breathtaking. Now he could speak openly about his love, but it was when he said nothing at all that she knew it most deeply. Since the day she had drawn him back from the precipice he had placed himself in her hands entirely.

Soon it would be Christmas, the first that the three of them would share. As the weather grew colder and the leaves fell from the trees Holly found herself haunted by a strange thought. She was unsure about confiding it to Matteo. His heart had opened further than she had dared to hope, but was even his generosity enough for this last step?

One day as they sat together he gave her a sudden, curious look, and asked, ‘What are you thinking?’

‘I just had an odd idea…’

‘Share it with me.’

‘You may not like it.’

He smiled. ‘But I shall trust it.’

‘All right. I was thinking that the person I feel most sorry for is Alec Martin.’

‘Carol’s lover? The man who took my daughter.’

‘Yes, but-’

‘But he didn’t take my daughter,’ he said, reading her mind as he could do so easily now. ‘I took his, didn’t I?’

‘You’ve had her all her life. She met him only once, on the train, and she didn’t like him.’

He nodded, beginning to understand.

‘Carol did him a wrong, just as she did me-perhaps more so. All that time he had a lovely little daughter, and he didn’t know.’

‘It’s you she loves,’ Holly said.

‘Yes, and me she snuggles against and kisses goodnight. I thought he’d taken everything away from me, but actually it was the other way around.’

He walked slowly out into the garden, and this time she made no effort to go with him. He needed time to clarify his own thoughts. She had given him the lead, but the conclusion must be his own.

He didn’t mention it again for two days, but then he said, ‘I need to go out. Will you come with me?’

In the car he explained, ‘It took me a while to check out where he was buried, but I’ve found him now. I was afraid that they might have taken him back to England, but it seems that he had no close family to care.’

The cemetery was small and bleak, a place for people whom nobody wanted. Here were no beautiful monuments, only small, ugly slabs that almost seemed to shrink with the cold. At last they found Alec Martin’s, with his name and dates.

‘He was only thirty-three when he died,’ Matteo said. ‘And his whole adult life had been taken up making enough money to claim his family back from me. Now he has nothing.

‘I’ve hated him, but I never before wondered how much he must have hated me.’

He was silent for a moment before looking at the grave and speaking, almost as though there were someone there who could hear.

‘I came here today…’ He hesitated, and for a moment Holly thought he would be unable to go on. But then he lifted his head. ‘I came to say thank you for our daughter, and to promise you that I’ll always look after her.’

His face softened. ‘You have my word on that.’

He drew Holly’s hand through his arm and led her away from the loneliness. The air was cold with frost and dusk was falling, but through the trees they could see lights, beckoning them on to another place, where there was warmth, hope and new life.

Just before they reached the lights he stopped and said, ‘But for you, I could never have understood. I could never even have made a beginning.’

‘The beginning will go on,’ she promised.

‘Only if you’re with me.’

‘I will be-always.’

He kissed her tenderly.

‘Let’s go home,’ he said.