The Italian Surgeon's Christmas Miracle

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The Italian Surgeon's Christmas Miracle Page 14

by Alison Roberts


  ‘It’s all in hand,’ was all Luke seemed prepared to say. ‘I’m taking full responsibility for this family.’

  ‘Who did you say you were again?’

  ‘Luke Harrington. Head of the cardiothoracic surgical department here at St Elizabeth’s.’

  ‘No.’ Claire sounded faintly bewildered. ‘That other name you said.’

  ‘On my birth certificate? Luca Moretti.’

  The way he said the name sent a curl of something very poignant through Amy. Had he noticed he’d said it with an Italian accent?

  He’d been lost for a very long time, this man, and the thought made her heart squeeze tightly.

  She loved him.

  She trusted him.

  More than Claire did, it seemed.

  ‘I still don’t understand. It all seems terribly complicated and rather irregular.’

  ‘Let me make it easy for you.’ The soothing note in Luke’s voice had probably calmed many anxious parents in the past. ‘My father—sadly deceased—owned the house Amy and the children live in. I inherited it. Because of that, I’m taking full responsibility for the inhabitants of that house.’

  Was that the only reason he wanted to help? Some kind of guilt trip? Amy bit her lip to drive back weary tears and she cuddled the twins closer.

  She trusted him. She needed to hang on to that.

  Marco obligingly twisted in his half of her lap and wound his arms around her neck. ‘I love you, Zietta Amy.’

  ‘I love you, too,’ she whispered back.

  Luke was speaking more forcefully now. He was not about to allow a social worker to disrupt arrangements he had made. Whatever they were.

  ‘I’ll sign whatever forms are necessary. It’s getting late and it’s Christmas Eve. I’m sure we’ve both got better things to do than stand here debating this issue.’

  Claire glanced at her watch and gave in with a sigh. ‘Very well. But I must insist on knowing where you intend taking these children.’

  Luke didn’t look at Amy to seek her approval.

  ‘Harrington Manor,’ was all he said. ‘In Harrington village. About an hour’s drive from London.’

  Claire made a final attempt at regaining some form of control. ‘Amy? How do you feel about all this? Are you happy to go with Mr Harrington?’

  The thought of being taken so far away from Summer was more than a worry. It was unacceptable. The thought of being in the same house as the old woman who had looked at Amy as though she wasn’t fit to scrub her floors almost made her gasp with incredulity. It was impossible!

  But small arms were tightening around her neck and the children were all staring at her. Questioning this new turn in their lives. Ready to stand by her and refuse to co-operate if she didn’t think it was a good idea. Trusting her to keep them safe.

  Amy stared at Luke. She had no choice here. She had to trust him.

  He met her gaze without smiling and his eyes reiterated the words he had spoken in the corridor.

  Trust me.

  Amy turned back to Claire. ‘Yes,’ she said calmly. ‘I’m happy. We’ll all go to Harrington Manor.’

  One step at a time, she reminded herself. All she could do was to keep things together as much as possible for as long as possible.

  And hope for a miracle.

  It took two taxis to ferry them all to Harrington Manor.

  Luke followed in his own car.

  ‘I’ll need to come back,’ he explained as Amy prepared to climb into the first taxi where the twins and Chantelle were waiting. ‘Summer’s due to have her drains removed and we’re thinking of lightening her sedation. She may be ready to come off the ventilator.’

  Which meant she could wake up. Soon.

  ‘I need to be there,’ Amy said, ‘when she wakes up.’

  Luke nodded. ‘You’ll be able to come back. A car and chauffeur will be available. I thought you’d want to go with the children initially.’

  A chauffeur? Not Luke? Why was he coming back with them now, then?

  Did his grandmother not know they were coming? About to descend en masse on a home that both Uncle Vanni and her father had been threatened with prosecution for trespass if they tried to enter?

  Oh…Lord!

  Snow was falling more thickly and daylight was virtually gone by the time the small entourage finally escaped the city limits. Luke’s car had taken some time to catch up with the taxis but the three vehicles were together as they left the motorway and turned onto more rural roads.

  ‘Are we lost?’ Chantelle asked.

  ‘No way, darling.’ The driver of the black cab was enjoying what would probably turn out to be his biggest fare ever. ‘I’ve got GPS in this baby. No way we can get lost.’

  ‘What’s GPS?’

  ‘It means we’re being tracked from up in space,’ Amy tried to explain. ‘That little screen on the dashboard is telling our driver exactly where we are and where we need to go.’

  ‘Space?’ Marco sounded puzzled.

  ‘Spaziale. Where the stars are.’

  The children peered from the windows of the taxi but all they could see was the swirl of snowflakes in the headlights of the small line of cars.

  ‘Will Father Christmas find us when it’s snowing?’ Chantelle asked. ‘How will he know where we’ve gone?’

  ‘Maybe he’s got GPS these days, too.’ The cab driver chuckled. Then he glanced in his rear-view mirror and saw the expression on the little girl’s face. ‘Hey, Santa comes from a very snowy place. It’s no problem.’

  Amy had something new to worry about now. The few presents tucked away for the children were lost. Shops might be open until late tonight but with the time it would take to travel back to the city and the time she needed to spend with Summer, how could she manage to fit any shopping in? How on earth could she do anything about giving these children any kind of Christmas surprises?

  Would Luke’s grandmother even have a tree?

  The prospect began to appear unlikely. Huge iron gates swung open a short time later, presumably because Luke had a remote control in his car. Snow was piling up in drifts on either side of the long driveway and it was settling onto bare branches of the massive old trees that gave the impression of a guard of honour.

  The house was enormous and dark and forbidding. Even Amy’s taxi driver fell silent as they parked at the base of semi-circular stone steps that had huge lions on pillars at each side.

  Luke got out of his car and came to Amy’s taxi.

  ‘Stay here for just a minute or two,’ he instructed. ‘I’ll be back.’

  Amy cuddled the children close and tried to banish her sense of foreboding as the heavy front door opened and the house swallowed Luke.

  If Luke had thought his grandmother nervous in his office yesterday, he had to consider her alarmed now. She was standing near the huge fire in the library. Beside a small table with spindly legs on which a decanter of sherry and small crystal glasses stood on a silver tray.

  ‘Whatever’s going on, Luke? What are all those taxis doing outside?’

  ‘We have visitors.’

  The housekeeper, Elaine, closely followed by her husband Henry, hurried through the door.

  ‘Is everything all right, Lady Harrington?’

  ‘That’s what I’m trying to find out myself. Luke?’

  ‘We have visitors, Grandmother. For Christmas.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Henry said they look like children,’ Elaine reported. ‘He was watching from the garages.’

  Henry looked at his feet. Luke looked at his grandmother just as steadily. ‘They are children,’ he said. ‘There are six of them and they range in age from about six to fourteen.’

  ‘Oh, my!’ Elaine breathed.

  ‘Are these the children I was trying to discuss with you yesterday, Luke? If so, I can make arrangements. They don’t even need to get out of the cabs. Let me call Lucy and—’

  ‘No. I will not allow that.’

&nbs
p; His grandmother fluttered a hand, looking shocked.

  ‘There was a fire this morning,’ Luke continued. ‘The house that is home to these children was extensively damaged. I have brought them here for a reason.’

  Prudence sank onto the edge of an overstuffed couch. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Elaine?’ Luke smiled at the housekeeper. ‘Could you prepare some rooms, please? At least four, I would think.’

  ‘But…’ Elaine looked at her employer, but Prudence had closed her eyes. ‘They’re children…’ The word was slightly awed.

  ‘You’re good with children, Elaine. Maybe you’ve still got that box of toys somewhere. You know, the ones they used to keep in the kitchens for me?’

  A smile tugged at Elaine’s mouth. ‘I think I know where it is. Oh, my! Children. Here for Christmas.’ She turned away. ‘Henry? I’m going to need your help. Let’s sort out some linen.’

  Prudence opened her eyes and waited. Luke sat on the edge of the couch beside her.

  ‘I know this is a shock,’ he began. ‘But things have happened in the last couple of days that have made me start to question my life.’

  ‘This has something to do with that nurse, doesn’t it? The one you were…ah…’

  ‘Kissing,’ Luke supplied. ‘Her name is Amy and, yes, it has a lot to do with her, but that’s beside the point just now. Look.’ He fished in the his coat pocket and brought out a rather crumpled photograph. ‘Look at this.’

  ‘Oh!’ Prudence put a hand to her throat and tears sprang instantly to her eyes. ‘Caroline!’

  ‘She was happy,’ Luke said quietly. ‘She loved my father and, by all accounts, he adored her. Maybe he wasn’t suitable but my mother’s death broke his heart. Losing his son was another tragedy as far as he was concerned and it was one that he didn’t have to suffer.’

  Prudence was silent.

  ‘He did suffer,’ Luke went on. ‘And if I don’t help his family and the children he loved, they will suffer, and that would be wrong.’

  He picked up his grandmother’s hand and held it. ‘You are my family,’ he said, ‘and I haven’t said this for far too many years but I love you. You did what you thought was right but you took something away from me. The chance to know my father. It’s something that I think mattered a great deal.’

  ‘I’m…sorry, Luke. I—’

  ‘I know.’ Luke leaned over to kiss her cheek. ‘I’m going to bring the children in now. They’re frightened and cold and hungry. Please, welcome them because this is also something that matters a great deal.’ He stood up. ‘We can’t turn the clock back but we’ve got a chance here to do something right. Something honourable. Do it for me. Please?’

  ‘I’ll…try.’ Prudence took a shaky breath and sat up a little straighter. ‘Just for Christmas?’

  ‘Just for Christmas,’ Luke agreed.

  One step at a time, he told himself as he went back to the waiting cars. For himself, as well, because he was stepping into alien territory here. An emotional landscape that had no map.

  They trooped inside, silently.

  They stood, silently, gazing at the biggest Christmas tree Amy had ever seen, positioned at the base of a stairway that curled gracefully up and then divided to form a U that swept past an uncountable number of doors.

  A woman with grey hair in a bun, holding a pile of linen, beamed down at them before hurrying through one of the doors.

  The tree was doing its best to reach the banisters of the U so it had to be at least twenty feet tall, and it was covered with thousands of white fairy lights in the form of tiny icicles that were twinkling on and off in sequence. A discreet few, gorgeously wrapped silver parcels lay at its base.

  Luke ushered them on. ‘Come into the library,’ he commanded. ‘My grandmother is waiting to meet you.’

  Amy’s misgivings made her heart thump alarmingly rapidly but she stepped forward, a twin attached to each hand. Robert, Kyra and Andrew were behind them but Chantelle, her face shining, skipped ahead. She came to an abrupt halt on entering the library, however, because standing in front of a roaring fire, with a forbiddingly remote expression on her face, was the woman who had dismissed Amy yesterday with no more than a passing glance.

  Chantelle’s mouth dropped open.

  ‘Are you the queen?’

  For a moment there was an odd silence and Chantelle gave Amy a look of trepidation.

  ‘She looks like the queen,’ she said in a small voice.

  ‘Che?’ Marco didn’t understand.

  ‘This is my grandmother,’ Luke told the children. ‘My nonna,’ he added to Marco and Angelo. He smiled at Chantelle. ‘But she does look a bit like the queen, doesn’t she?’

  Lady Prudence Harrington wasn’t smiling but the tension in the room eased just a little. Amy kept her gaze on Luke, loving him so much for the way he hadn’t let Chantelle feel she had said something stupid.

  ‘Excuse me for a moment,’ Luke said. He vanished through the door and the awkward silence fell again as Prudence stared at the wall of silent children.

  ‘I forgot,’ Luke announced as he came back through the door. ‘He was asleep on the back seat of my car.’

  ‘Monty!’ the twins shrieked in delight.

  ‘Luke!’ The tone was as shocked as it had been yesterday when Prudence had caught her grandson kissing a nurse in his office. ‘What in heaven’s name are you thinking of, bringing a dog in here?’

  ‘It’s Monty.’ Chantelle had been gazing at Lady Harrington as though still convinced she was in the presence of royalty. ‘He’s our dog now.’

  ‘Dogs belong outside.’ Prudence moved to push a button on the wall. ‘I’m sorry, Luke, but this is too much. I need to call Henry.’

  ‘Come with me.’ Luke offered his grandmother his arm. ‘We’ll both talk to him. And Elaine. We need some hot food and drink for our visitors.’

  They were left alone in the library for what seemed a very long time. Amy heard muted voices and more than one door closing. A telephone rang, the fire crackled and a grandfather clock at one end of a huge bookshelf ticked solemnly.

  Then a man they hadn’t seen before came in.

  ‘I’m Henry,’ he told them. ‘I have a message for you, Miss Phillips. From Mr Harrington.’

  ‘Call me Amy, please.’

  Henry blinked. ‘I’m not sure that’s—’

  ‘Spit it out, Henry.’ The woman with the grey bun came bustling in. ‘I’m Elaine,’ she told Amy. ‘The housekeeper. I’ve got your rooms ready if you’d like to come and see where you’re all going to sleep?’

  The children eyed her suspiciously.

  ‘And then we’ll all go down to the kitchens,’ she added. ‘Beryl is making dinner for you. And for—Oh, my! He’s a big dog, isn’t he?’

  ‘That’s Monty,’ Chantelle said.

  ‘Well, we’ll find some dinner for Monty, too. And some nice old blankets. He could sleep in the scullery where it’s all nice and warm from the coal range. If that’s suitable?’

  Robert gave a slow nod. He approved of Elaine. Amy could feel herself relaxing a little.

  ‘What was the message?’ she asked Henry.

  ‘Oh, yes. Mr Harrington had to return to the hospital somewhat urgently. He said you’d be wanting to follow him and I’m at your disposal.’

  ‘You’ve got another wee one who’s sick at the moment, haven’t you?’ Elaine’s face was creased with sympathy. ‘Let me settle the others and get them fed and bathed and into bed.’

  ‘That’s too much work for you,’ Amy protested. ‘I’ll stay and help.’

  Elaine shook her head. ‘It’s been too long since this house heard the sound of children’s voices. It’ll be a treat.’

  Amy was quite sure Lady Harrington didn’t see it as a treat. It seemed rather pointed that she hadn’t returned to the library.

  Elaine seemed to be reading her thoughts. ‘Lady Harrington sends her apologies,’ she said, ‘but she’s not feeling very well an
d has had to retire to her room. She’ll see you in the morning.’

  Christmas morning.

  ‘Whenever you’re ready, miss,’ Henry said kindly. ‘And you’re not to worry about your family that’s coming, either. I’m to stay in the city tonight and meet them at the airport tomorrow. Mr Harrington said to tell you not to worry about anything.’ Henry smiled. ‘That everything’s in hand.’

  Things may have been taken out of her own hands but Amy felt curiously safe with the astonishing flow that was pulling them all along. It was as though someone was waving a wand to take care of everything that was worrying her.

  A tiny seed of something as effervescent as excitement took hold inside her.

  Miracles did happen sometimes, didn’t they?

  And what better time for a bit of magic than Christmas?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SHE was asleep.

  Tangled, dark hair framed a pale face that was cradled on one arm. The other arm still lay on the bed, fingers cupped around a much smaller hand.

  Luke kept his voice low. ‘How long has she been asleep?’

  ‘Most of the night. She’s woken every time I’ve done Summer’s recordings but she’s barely moved.’

  Luke gave the latest set of recordings another satisfied glance. Then he turned his head to nod at someone else.

  Henry ushered three women into the ICU, his fingers on his lips to warn them of the need to stay quiet and calm, and then he faded back into the corridor. One of the women was easily as old as Luke’s grandmother. A small, slightly hunched figure leaning heavily on a walking stick and probably hampered by the long, black skirt she was wearing. The other two looked remarkably like Amy and Luke gave them a smile that came from the bottom of his heart.

  ‘Only a few minutes,’ he warned the new arrivals. ‘There’s only supposed to be one or two close relatives at a time.’

  Amy’s grandmother scowled at Luke rather ferociously but her mother was clearly struggling with tears. Hyperventilating as she tried to control herself. Luke put both his hands on her shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

  ‘Summer’s doing very, very well, Mrs Phillips. Be strong.’ He smiled again. ‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she wakes up when she hears your voice.’

 

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