Chloe would wake soon, though, the way she had been sleeping in lately, one never knew.
Surely the lure of the enormous parcel that had arrived yesterday—on a Saturday; who knew how he had arranged that before he’d even known he would fly out?—would have her daughter up early. Obviously from Raimondo, and goodness knew what it would be in all its largeness and expensive express courier, but Chloe had been remarkably patient to wait until today to open it.
Like Christmas, she’d said.
Her little friends were arriving this morning at ten a.m. Faith had decided an early party would be more fun for Chloe than waiting around for the afternoon when she could be weary.
Dear Myra, a pastry chef and cake decorator in a past life before Lighthouse Bay, had made the ‘Elsa from Frozen’ cake and would bring the no doubt magnificent creation down at ten. Because it was Sunday, the adults would come for brunch after the children had been here an hour and done their party games, then they were having a sausage sizzle in the backyard which Finn had offered to cook for young and old.
It would be a typical extended family and friends day, held to celebrate one of theirs. All those coming who genuinely cared...
Raimondo should have been here to see his daughter’s pleasure in being the star for the day.
But he wasn’t. She shouldn’t be surprised.
She shouldn’t be disappointed.
Not at all. Really. But she was and not only for Chloe.
Faith pushed away the recently familiar flustered feeling in her stomach and opened the blinds properly to see the day.
Just as she thought. Glorious. She pushed open the window and the salt-laden air wafted into the room, forcing her to appreciate the good things. Forcing her to smile.
She loved living here. This was her home. Regardless of the ups and downs of the last few days, she was so very fortunate. And here came the footsteps of her precious daughter.
‘Mummy, Mummy! It’s my birthday!’ A pink-pyjamaed missile fired through Faith’s bedroom door and into her arms.
Faith hugged the warm tousled body into her and inhaled the tear-free shampoo scent of Chloe’s soft hair. Her baby. Her life. ‘Good morning, darling Birthday Girl. How exciting. Today you are how old...?’ Faith pretended to scratch her chin.
‘I’m five! I’m five!’ Chloe bounced back off the bed and onto the balls of her feet and grinned at her mother. ‘You’re tricking.’
‘Five? My goodness. So big. Off to school next year. But first—we have a party!’
Chloe’s eyes rounded. ‘I know! My first party. Piper said she has a present for me.’
‘Well, that’s very nice. You must remember to thank all the people for coming and also for presents and cards.’
‘I will.’
Such a solemn vow, Faith thought with amusement and stroked her daughter’s soft cheek. Then she frowned at the small bruise on Chloe’s neck.
‘Did you bump yourself here?’
‘Maybe.’ Chloe was peering towards the kitchen and Faith let it go, though unease slid under her skin. ‘Let’s go and have breakfast and maybe you could open a present from me too. And one from Aunty Izzy.’
‘And one from Mr Salvanelli. I mean Papà.’ The little girl crinkled her forehead. ‘Papà is a funny word.’
‘Maybe we can find a different word that works as well. But let’s go see what we can find for your birthday breakfast.’
* * *
By eleven o’clock, when the adults were due to arrive, the presents had all been unwrapped and the children had begun to settle from the frenzy of pass the parcel. Everyone had a prize and the mood had calmed to staring with admiration at Chloe’s wonderful cake and her wonderful doll’s house.
Gift-wise, it seemed that Elsa and the Frozen story had won the day as well, with a set of Frozen dolls, a set of bed sheets, a Frozen duvet cover and even a cushion with Elsa’s blonde head gazing out from it. It culminated with Raimondo’s outrageously expensive Frozen castle doll’s house, which impressed all the little girls mightily.
Faith remembered she’d suggested a doll’s house, more fool her.
She thought of the three-storey, furnished, fantastical fairy tale extravaganza, and wondered how on earth he’d managed to order that and have it delivered in the space of a Saturday afternoon. It had proved well over-the-top but Chloe, of course, was ecstatic. Faith decided she’d need to talk to him about restraint with gifts—and she hadn’t told her friends who had bought the Captain’s house next door.
Soon enough when Raimondo took ownership, because then everyone would know.
She sighed. The man was turning into a headache of mammoth proportions. And heart-hugging secrets.
Trina and Finn were the parents who arrived last and Piper squealed and ran towards them with Chloe following. Until she slowed.
As if in slow motion, Chloe faltered, stopped and then silently she toppled sideways in a dead faint onto a discarded Elsa cushion, and Faith’s heart missed a beat.
Faith reached out but she missed and by the time she knelt beside her daughter Finn was there too, easing her back. Faith didn’t understand as her heart seemed to slowly gather momentum in her chest. What had happened?
His voice reached her shocked brain. Calm. Soothing. Like at work when that voice was directed at a patient, not at her. ‘She’s breathing, Faith. Fainted. Could just be excitement. I’ll take her,’ he said gently, ‘to her bed. We’ll look at her there.’
Then he lifted Chloe into his arms and carried Faith’s baby away and she couldn’t see her daughter’s face as she hurried behind.
Once in the bedroom with the door closed, Finn examined Chloe and they found more bruises like the one Faith had seen that morning. Two on her belly and a dozen on her back and both lymph glands under her thin arms were suspiciously swollen.
When Chloe stirred from the faint, only a minute after she’d been put on her bed, she woke slowly, still groggy and vague.
Sadly, there would be no more birthday celebrations for Chloe.
Faith could hear Izzy in the distance as she ushered the guests out with a gentle, ‘No, Chloe will be fine,’ quietly dispersing the party behind the door as she took control. Her ‘Thank you for coming’ seemed surreal in the distance to Faith as she watched Finn examine Chloe with growing alarm that she tried to hide. Her anxiety ramped up to real terror as Finn took out his mobile phone and arranged emergency admission to the regional hospital for tests, but she smiled at Chloe and said, ‘Uncle Finn knows best.’
But she was thinking, My daughter is too sick for Lighthouse Bay Hospital.
* * *
The ambulance ride took them to the base hospital and more blood tests were conducted.
Test results that proved serious enough to transfer her from the country to the city, and thankfully Faith was allowed in the aircraft too. So they both travelled by the rescue helicopter down to the Children’s Hospital in Sydney.
As soon as they arrived, around three p.m., Faith slipped outside the hospital to leave another message for Raimondo, this time at his place of work, and she jammed her phone up against her ear to try to block the noise of the traffic. She drew a deep breath as finally the long-distance call connected, and a woman’s rolling accent answered at the other end.
‘Salvanelli Compagnia Farmaceutica.’
Faith prayed the receptionist at his brother’s temporary office could speak English. She had no Italian. ‘I wish to speak to Dominico Salvanelli, please.’
‘Signor Salvanelli is not available. I do not know when he will be back. I am sorry.’ The accent was thick but the English perfect. Not that it helped.
That was it then. Raimondo’s mobile phone and home number had only accepted voice messages as he would still be flying. She enunciated as clearly as she could, ‘This is Faith Fetherstone from Australia. Please try t
o pass on a message to Dominico to contact his brother. Raimondo must phone me back as soon as possible. It is very urgent.’
So she’d done what she could about informing Raimondo and the forlorn hope that he would immediately begin his return to support her and Chloe through this terrifying ordeal had failed, as she should have expected. She would be alone.
No. That wasn’t fair. Isabel would drive down as soon as she’d shaken her slight cold and the unacceptable risk of her infecting Chloe now she was so very susceptible.
* * *
Hours later, as visiting hours closed, the sounds of the Children’s Hospital in Sydney made resting difficult on the chair beside Chloe’s bed. Crying babies, toys being tossed or banged on the side of cots, the beeping of high-tech medical machines that whirred and trilled and the constant swish of nurses checking on her daughter.
At least no more fruitless time had been wasted on unsuccessful phone calls because now her phone was dead without her charger. She would concentrate on her daughter, as she should have been the last few days instead of being sidetracked by a man from her past.
Nine torrid hours after Chloe’s collapse, on the longest day of Faith’s life, Faith felt like a zombie as she paced the room. It was true that finally, after the terrifying provisional diagnosis, when acute myeloid leukaemia had been suggested at the regional hospital, and Faith had felt as if her body had turned to a lump of ice, things were tentatively looking up. Frozen-faced, she’d nodded, outwardly calm, and clutched Chloe’s hand and they had to wait for more test results.
Now, after the bone marrow biopsy in Sydney, some hope for a different diagnosis seemed possible.
An hour ago Finn had phoned Faith on the ward phone with the results.
‘The news is better than expected, Faith.’
She’d sagged against the wall, the ward phone clamped to her ear.
Finn went on. ‘The latest tests and overall diagnostic pictures have pointed more towards a severe secondary bacterial infection on top of the recent viral infection. That combination mimicked the leukaemia symptoms.’
‘Oh, my.’ Faith had sagged further down the wall.
She’d almost missed the rest of Finn’s news. ‘The repeat blood tests still show Chloe’s red cells are down and her white cells sky-high. That’s why she’s spiked that raging temperature.’
‘The paediatrician here knows that?’ She was trying to understand what this meant for Chloe.
‘He rang me. He’s been called to the operating theatre until later tonight. Sorry he couldn’t tell you himself. We’re cautiously hopeful that with the antibiotics Chloe will make a full recovery.’
Faith swallowed again the lump that had seemed lodged in her throat for hours. She hadn’t been able to answer Izzy’s questions when other calls had been brought to her, her mouth unable to form words as her throat closed. So Trina and Izzy had left messages.
‘You need to rest, Faith. Try to sleep so you have reserves for tomorrow.’
She’d nodded and then realised he couldn’t see her. ‘Yes. I’ll try.’
‘What of Raimondo?’
‘I left messages. He’s still flying. Won’t land until one a.m. tonight.’
‘Hang in there. He’ll be back.’
‘It will take another two days at least. Thank you for ringing, Finn.’
‘Get some rest.’
‘Yes.’ Then she’d hung up.
Raimondo would be very close to Florence, but that wouldn’t help her. He was twenty-six hours’ flight in the wrong direction.
But he could have rung the hospital at one of the stops. Despite the fact there was no wife to hijack her messages, he still hadn’t answered.
She shouldn’t be surprised he was not there for her.
Out of sight, out of mind.
She should have expected that.
The deep disappointment of Raimondo’s absence sat in her chest like a stone. Didn’t he know she needed strong arms and a chest to cry on at this moment as she watched their daughter sleeping with horror of her childish mortality so fresh in her mind?
Had that two days of upheaval he’d caused in her and Chloe’s life meant nothing to him?
Faith stared at her daughter, weary tears she didn’t have the energy to wipe as they dripped damply down her cheeks. Chloe’s small fingers were tucked under her so pale chin and the other arm lay by her side strapped to the IV line with a bandage and a board to keep her arm straight. Her daughter shone ethereally white against the pillows, and all her mother could do was sit alone, watching, powerless to help her.
Two separate antibiotics were running through the drip she was connected to now the blood transfusion she’d needed was finished.
Still, the news was so much better than it could have been and now that she had allowed the hope to filter in, after the horrific dread that had filled her before, not unexpectedly, exhaustion swamped Faith. She put her head in her hands and closed her eyes.
They would beat this.
She and Chloe. They had to.
The door opened. It would be another nurse to check Chloe and she couldn’t summon the energy to open her eyes.
‘Faith.’ A voice she knew.
Raimondo, looking slightly harried and slightly crumpled, very unlike himself, stood there, his hair mussed, his beautiful warm, reassuring eyes searching hers as he crossed the room towards her, his long strides eating up the distance between them.
Faith struggled to her feet. ‘You’re here?’ Then she sagged and he crossed the last gap to catch her in his warm embrace.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
RAIMONDO CROSSED THE room in a rush and pulled her into his arms and she sobbed against him. His strong hands held her as he pulled her against the chest she’d needed so much. Hugged her tighter to him until almost she couldn’t breathe but it was so worth it as she felt the warmth of his body warming the chill that had soaked all the way into her bones.
His voice rumbled in her hair. ‘I should never have left. I will not leave again unless I take you both with me.’
Faith didn’t have the headspace to compute that. Her brain had shut down. She could only deal with this moment. ‘She’s been so sick.’ Her voice sounded thick with tears, and relief, and exhaustion, but it felt so overwhelming that he’d come back. She’d hoped for a call and wasn’t sure how he could have arrived but this was so much better than she’d hoped for.
‘My poor Faith. The things I do to you without the intention to hurt you. I should never have left.’
‘No, I wish you hadn’t.’ She looked up into his face. ‘How are you back so quickly?’
He ran his hand through his hair at the memory. ‘I flew back from Singapore. Your message appeared as we taxied in. I sent a doctor friend to sit with Dominico. That is another story. There was some dilemma as I retrieved my bags but it was arranged that instead of flying on I could change planes and fly back.’
‘You must be exhausted.’ The shadows under his eyes attested to that.
‘Not like you. Not like Chloe. I should never have left,’ he said again. They turned to stare at their daughter and his mouth compressed as he held back his emotion.
Faith touched his arm. ‘You’re here now.’
They crossed to the bed and Raimondo sat carefully on the edge and stroked Chloe’s free hand at the end of the strapping of IV line. She stirred, mumbled, ‘Mummy?’ without opening her eyes, and resettled.
Raimondo closed his eyes. Then opened them to stare up at Faith. ‘And you have been alone through this.’
Faith nodded.
‘She looks so pale.’ He compressed his lips and gave her a rueful smile. ‘I spoke to Finn. Your phone? He said it was dead, which was better than me thinking you had banned me from talking to you.’
She’d so wanted to talk to him. ‘I wouldn’t do that.’
<
br /> He shrugged and squeezed her for a moment. ‘How can I know that when I have wronged you again?’
* * *
‘You did what you had to. And I had no charger. We left so quickly. One of the nurses is bringing me one from home tomorrow.’
‘Of course.’ He touched her hand. ‘But I could not sit in the back of the taxi as I was being driven here from the airport and not find out what was happening. So I found Finn.’ He shrugged apologetically.
She had to smile, though it felt so long since she had smiled her face felt stiff. ‘I forgive you.’
‘You will not need a phone to contact me for I will be here.’
‘You’re staying?’
‘I have said I would never leave again.’ His face was intense. ‘Believe me.’
And looking at his strong, tired face, his warm eyes that searched to see if she was able to believe him, she did. ‘Then I will. Now. With all my heart.’
He squeezed her to him. Then, even with that brief hug, she could feel the recharge of energy she’d stolen from him and straightened her shoulders. There was hope everywhere.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Isabel
ONE MONTH LATER, and two days before the wedding, Dominico Salvanelli, the groom’s twin brother, stood by Isabel’s side in the church as everyone practised for the wedding.
Isabel’s hand rested on his admittedly very powerful forearm as they walked together back up the aisle, and she tried not to inhale the particularly divine aftershave he wore. Or glance across at his impressive chest that rose beside her so that she felt tiny.
Seriously, he was there every time she turned around, not saying anything. As if he was trying to understand something. Watching her. Which was ridiculous.
She wasn’t one for toy boys and the man was seven years her junior. Though, behind his eyes, she had the feeling he was decades older than her. These Salvanellis certainly knew how to do dark and mysterious.
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