Gwen bent over them. “Hush now,” she said gently. “They’ve caught the driver. The ambulance is coming for Lucy, and everything’s going to be fine.”
A tall figure appeared beside her. “Are you alright love?” said a familiar voice.
She straightened up and smiled “Hello, Sam.” She took his hand in hers. “Thank you.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Dear Miss Marilyn,” wrote Lucy. “You’ll never guess, but I’m in hospital in the same ward you were in, and my leg is up in the air, just like yours! I was run over by a car, but am getting better every day. One of the Magnifico’s abductors tried to drive away with Paul, but we stopped him, and he confessed everything to the police. He told them where to find the holy leaders, and they were all arrested. We’re pretty sure that it was Dorothy’s creepy Robin who actually grabbed Paul, though it was all too quick for Paul to identify him and the driver said it was someone called Dave. Now that the holy leaders have all been caught, Mr Lovett thinks we shouldn’t have any more trouble. He’s said that before, so I hope he’s right this time. I hope you and Professor Dwight are well and happy. Miss Clements is marrying Mr Nicholas, the boiler man, on the last Saturday in August. Love from Lucy.”
*
Lucy sat, propped up by cushions, on the chintz-covered sofa. Her crutches lay across a coffee table, so that she could reach them easily. It was wonderful to be back! Donald lay snoring in a patch of evening sunlight, and Paul sat on the floor, pressed up against the sofa, reading aloud to her from his school book. As it was in Welsh she couldn’t understand it, but she smiled and nodded encouragingly.
A large pot of ferns filled the hearth, spreading a thick, green curtain across the empty fireplace. Dorothy was on the window seat, making a list of recipes, and David was hunched up in an armchair trying to understand his book on investment strategies.
Nonna Ferranti sat quietly at a bureau in the corner of the room, behind David’s chair. Her pretty silver curls gleamed with little lights as she leaned over figures in an accounts book. An overnight bag lay against the wall nearby, with her coat thrown over it, ready for a weekend trip to Cardiff with Gwen. She wanted to finish off the books before she left, but it was hard to focus when her mind was half on the accounts and half on the children’s chatter.
“Lucy, I didn’t mention it while you were in hospital in case it upset you,” Dorothy was saying, “but I got the sack because I left early on the abduction day.”
“That’s too bad!” Lucy was indignant. “Couldn’t they see how hard you worked? Losing a couple of hours can’t have done them much harm.”
“Well, it did make it difficult for them, because they had a wedding party that day and needed everyone. It was still in my probation period, and it’s important for staff to be reliable. But there we are. It’s done now.”
Her grandmother smiled approvingly to herself. She liked that attitude.
“And no one would have cooked as well as you,” said Lucy.
“They never let me do any cooking anyway, so that part of it was a disappointment.”
Dorothy put on what the others called her let’s-be-positive look. “It’s not the end of the world. We’ve had to go back to the beginning of our three-step plan that’s all, because I still haven’t got a job. I’m still waiting for a couple of places to let me know. I’ve applied to be a bingo-caller, which might be fun.”
David looked up from his book. “You needn’t work yet. Wait till you’re eighteen. It won’t be long, and anyway, we don’t have to worry about it until Miss Clements gets married. There’s another fortnight yet and, you never know, Mr Nicholas might say she can stay here with us for a few weeks instead of moving straight into his house.”
“Perhaps it’s a good thing you’re not working,” said Lucy thoughtfully. “You could go back to school.”
“That’s exactly what I keep telling her,” said David. “She says she let us down by getting sacked, but she hasn’t. She’d have let us down if she’d stayed for some silly wedding instead of helping us save Paul. Look at all the information Mr Lovett’s lot got from that driver! And if Robin really was involved, there are no holy leaders left to give him instructions, so he’ll have gone to look for another job. And good riddance!”
There was silence. Nonna completed the accounts and started sorting some papers in her briefcase.
“Well, I’m pleased about it,” said Paul after a while, shutting his book, “because I like it when Dorothy’s here and not at work all the time. And now Lucy’s back, I’m even more pleased.”
Lucy smiled down affectionately at him and tickled the top of his head from her superior position on the sofa. “I’m pleased too,” she said.
A moment later, Gladys put her head round the door.
“Phone call for you, Dorothy,” she said.
Dorothy’s spirits lifted. She swung her legs down from the window seat and hurried to the door. “Perhaps it’s a job,” she said optimistically.
The others waited on tenterhooks.
A few minutes later, she reappeared, looking troubled. Three pairs of eyes were fixed on her, and Nonna Ferranti swung round in her chair.
“Well?” said David. “Was it a job offer?”
“Yes, in a way, but I don’t know where it came from. It wasn’t what I applied for. A man with a foreign accent said would I like to work for an international chain of hotels in London, Rome, and…” she paused and her voice shook, “in Paris.”
Lucy and David gasped simultaneously, and Nonna watched as panic flashed across their faces.
“It’s those men!” whispered Lucy. “The Piccadilly Circus men! How did they find us?”
David jumped up and grabbed Dorothy’s arm. “You didn’t accept, did you?”
“No, of course not,” said Dorothy, shaking him off. She was worried. “I wish I knew how they found us. How did they know I had hotel experience? They must have been following us all this time.”
“Did he say his name?” asked her grandmother.
“It was something foreign. I was too surprised to catch it.”
Nonna leaned over and rummaged in her overnight bag for her mobile phone. “Excuse me” she said, “while I have a quick chat with your Great-Uncle Mario.”
She pressed some buttons, and then spoke into the phone in rapid Italian. The children forgot their fears for a moment as they listened to the beautiful sound of the language.
“I wish I could talk Italian like that!” exclaimed Dorothy when she had finished. “I learned it for years in the Mag’s school, but I couldn’t understand a word.”
“And so you shall talk it, and understand it, my love,” said her grandmother.
The face that had been so sadly sunken a few months ago was now smooth over the fine cheek bones, and her skin seemed almost luminous in the late afternoon sun.
Dorothy looked at her and remembered the beautiful woman in her mother’s photograph, and she thought her heart would burst.
“It wasn’t the Piccadilly Circus men, my dears,” Nonna was saying. “Those men could not possibly have followed you. You saw them running away, and you saw that they didn’t look back. There’s nothing to be afraid of. The phone call was from an employee of the company that my brother and I own together. His name is Alfredo, and he obviously didn’t explain himself very well.”
She handed Dorothy her phone.
“Take this. My brother is going to speak to him, and he will ring you back on this number in about five minutes – Alfredo, that is. I would like you to listen carefully to what he has to say.” She stood up and smoothed down the multi-coloured tunic that floated over her flowing silk trousers. “I’m just going to see if Miss Clements wants any help with the menu for the wedding buffet, and if she doesn’t, I’ll be straight back.”
They looked at her in astonishment.
“We
didn’t know you had a company!” exclaimed David.
“Yes, I have,” she replied as she left the room, “and it’s a very interesting one.”
Then, almost in chorus, they all heaved sighs of relief.
“Alfredo? Phew! I don’t think I could have taken any more,” said Dorothy, “whether it was the Piccadilly Circus men, or the Magnifico, or even that stupid Robin.”
In less than five minutes, the mobile phone rang. Dorothy waved her hand for hush as she pressed the green button, and they watched her, rigid with attention. By the time Nonna returned, all four children were squashed together on the sofa despite Lucy’s bad leg, discussing the phone call.
“He said he was offering me a trainee position with this string of hotels, to start as soon as I’m eighteen. He said I’d learn everything to do with the hotel trade and how to run a first-class restaurant.”
“Wowee!” exclaimed David. “But why didn’t you say yes?”
“Because my first year of training would be in Rome.”
“Ah!” David understood, and so did Lucy. “It’d mean we’d be separated.”
Nonna settled herself back at the bureau and bent over her documents.
The children were quiet as their high mood evaporated.
“Where’s Rome?” asked Paul.
“It’s in Italy,” said Dorothy. “Far away.”
“It’s not that far,” said her grandmother quietly, without moving from her position. “It’s under three hours by plane, quicker than from here to London. Great-Uncle Mario is always back and forth.”
“I can’t leave my family,” said Dorothy equally quietly. “We agreed we’d never be separated.”
“But,” said Paul, “you’d be with us in spirit, same as Lucy when she went to London.”
“Yes,” agreed Lucy. “You’d always be with us in spirit, wherever you happened to be.”
“Also,” said David, “if you’re in Rome you’ll be with Great-Uncle Mario, and he’s part of our family too.”
Nonna had lifted the lid of her briefcase and was stacking her papers in an orderly pile. She turned round and looked at the children, their faces a mixture of excitement and anxiety.
“You know,” she said gently, “it wouldn’t be forever, and you could all visit Great-Uncle Mario and Dorothy in Rome in the school holidays. And Nain Jones could come with you if she can get the time off work.”
The possibility of going abroad was thrilling. Lucy’s mind jumped back to her geography lessons at the Magnifico’s school. She had always longed to travel to the exotic places shown on the classroom video screen.
“Well, I think you should accept,” said David eventually. “If you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Just imagine if, in five years’ time, you were still working in a bingo hall when you could have been running a hotel or a world-famous restaurant. You’d be kicking yourself.”
“Nonna Ferranti,” asked Lucy. “Would Alfredo mind if Dorothy rang him back and said she’d changed her mind and would love to be a trainee?”
The grandmother looked at Dorothy. “It’s up to you, my dear,” she said. “What do you want to do? Would you like to go to Rome, and learn to speak beautiful Italian, and start on a career that you’re ideally suited for? It’ll be hard work, but you’re used to that already. You’d have to start at the bottom, cleaning rooms and washing up, just as you were doing in your hotel on the promenade. If you would like to do that, I’ll dial Alfredo and you can tell him you accept his offer. If you don’t want to, then we’ll forget all about it.”
“I’d love to do it,” breathed Dorothy, “so long as you all know I’ll never leave you. I’ll be with you in spirit.”
The others nodded their heads vigorously, and Nonna dialled.
“Suppose it’s too late?” whispered Dorothy as they waited. “He might not want me because I was indecisive.”
Mrs Ferranti was put through to Alfredo, and she handed over the phone.
Dorothy took it from her and her voice was trembling with excitement. “Oh, hello, sir – Signor Alfredo, that is. It’s Dorothy again.” There was a pause as she wondered how to word it. “Please may I change my mind?” she asked tentatively. “I’d love to be a trainee in Rome.”
The children could hear his voice and saw the smile spread over Dorothy’s face. “I’ll come as soon as I’m eighteen,” she said.
She handed the phone back to her grandmother. “Thank you!” she cried, throwing her arms around her, and knocking the open briefcase and all the documents onto the floor.
Paul rushed to pick up the fallen documents just as Gwen put her head round the door and called, “Aren’t you ready? The coach is waiting for us!”
“Oh my goodness!” exclaimed Nonna. “I forgot!” She snatched up her bag and coat.
Paul was already busy making a tidy pile. “Put them on the desk just as they are or they’ll be muddled, there’s a good boy,” she called as she dashed out. “I’ll sort them when I come back. Addio everyone! See you Sunday night or, more likely, Monday morning.”
Two sets of footsteps clattered down the path. Paul shuffled the documents into a rather messy pile on the floor and put the briefcase back on the desk. Some loose scraps of paper were trying to escape from a pocket in the lid, and he stuffed them back as tidily as he could.
He was quiet for a while.
“What are you looking at, Paul?” asked Lucy. “You mustn’t look if it’s private.”
“It’s not private. It’s a photograph. It’s two beautiful ladies.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Dorothy shut the bedroom door behind her and leaned against it. The photograph was still in her hand, but she shut her eyes, afraid that what she’d seen at first glance had been a mirage. She waited for her heart to quieten before she dared to look. Then she caught her breath. There they were. Mamma and Nonna! Euphoria and incredulity spun around together in her head. Could this really be her picture, after all these years? She must be imagining it. Then relief! A great pressure, of which she had been unaware, suddenly lifted, and she felt free.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the two beautiful women. Nonna, she recognised straight away, even though she was much older and thinner now. But would she have recognised Mamma if she hadn’t known who it was? She remembered that hair, so black and soft and shiny – but the face? Her memory was blur. But she would never forget the voice. Tears filled her eyes as she heard it now, and all the other emotions were shoved aside by an overwhelming sorrow. She lay down on the bed and wept.
Three anxious faces appeared round the door.
“Is there any way we can help you?” whispered Lucy as they approached the bed.
There was no answer. David bent down to put his arm round Dorothy’s heaving shoulder, but it was pushed off.
“Go away!” she moaned. “All of you! This is private.”
As they crept out they could hear her crying for her mother.
*
Miss Clements was preparing a tray of soup, with crusty bread and butter.
“She says she doesn’t want it,” said David. “She says she’s not hungry.”
“Well, there we are then. That’s how we all feel sometimes. It’ll warm up nicely later on when she’s ready.”
“But this isn’t just how we all feel sometimes,” said David sadly. “It’s more than that, because Dorothy doesn’t do this.”
“My Dorothy is always smiling,” said Paul.
David nodded. “We can’t help her, because the photograph’s brought it all back. Remembering those men taking her away is like a poison that she has to get out of her system, and no one else can do it for her.”
“We mustn’t let Nonna hear about this when she comes back from Cardiff.” Lucy knelt down and put her arms around Paul. “So not a word, OK? It would upset
her terribly if she knew poor Dorothy was so sad, and it would bring back her own great sorrow.”
*
On the Saturday night, they tiptoed into Dorothy’s room before they went to bed. She was staring silently at the ceiling and didn’t seem to notice they were there. David sat on one side of the bed and took her hand. It lay lifeless in his. Lucy sat on the other side and pulled Paul up beside her. The three of them sat in silent vigil.
Half an hour passed, and Paul lay sleeping with his head in Lucy’s lap. At last, Dorothy turned her head and looked at them dully.
“Do you know what’s the worst?” Her voice cracked. “David and I know what it’s like to be in a disposal cell waiting to die, but we didn’t die, thanks to Paul and Lucy. She was in the cell and must have been as terrified as we were, but no one saved her.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “My poor, poor mamma! I keep thinking how she must have felt, and I can’t live with it. Why should I have been saved, when she wasn’t?”
As Lucy and David sat there in silence, the cells seemed to close around them both, and they could feel the horror that Dorothy was feeling. Lucy struggled to breathe. Words of comfort were impossible. What had been done could not be undone.
In the end, she said gently, “I think you had to be saved so that there was someone to help poor Nonna in her terrible grief. There was a purpose.”
Too late, she remembered that Aunt Sarah was always going on about ‘The Purpose’. But why not, if it helped people to have an explanation? Sometimes, what Aunt Sarah said made sense.
Dorothy turned her head away and closed her eyes. “Go to bed now,” she said. “I want to sleep.”
Lucy shifted Paul gently onto his feet. She wondered if she dared ask if she should take the photograph and restore it to Nonna’s documents before she returned from Cardiff. She thought better of it. Now was not the time. Perhaps tomorrow, when Dorothy might be feeling a bit better.
As they were leaving, Dorothy sat up and called out after them. “I’ll get them one day – whoever’s left of them. I’ll get that old Magnifico!”
The Big House Page 27