In The Venetian's Bed

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 still kept a log of Molly’s symptoms as he had advised, and ensured Molly received careful monitoring under the supervision of the doctor Luca Barbaro had recommended.

Nell tried to blank her mind to the dark eyes haunting her thoughts. Luca Barbaro’s lack of human consideration still had the power to sting. But it was his arrogant manner together with the aftermath of Jake’s accident that had propelled her work forward, so it had done some good.

Hearing Molly chatting happily with Marianna now made Nell angry all over again on her daughter’s behalf. What kind of cold-hearted individual lost interest in his patient the moment the crisis was over? She had expected a few words at least for Molly, even perhaps some acknowledgement for herself—she wasn’t sure why or of what, just that she’d wanted something from him. But he’d simply handed them over to the care of his nursing team, written a brief letter and disappeared.

That was years ago. She was over it now, and having Molly with her in Venice had transformed the dreaded return into fun. No one was going to spoil that for them. As far as Nell was concerned they were laying the final ghost together. And now it was almost time for the meeting to start. She had to forget Barbaro and concentrate on that.

‘Ready?’

Nell smiled as Marianna asked the question. ‘As I’ll ever be. Come with me for luck, Molly?’

‘Can I sit in the audience when you go onto the platform?’

‘Of course. Marianna, could you stay with her?’ Nell was used to imposing her will these days, but never on a woman she considered to be almost a surrogate mother to them both.

‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ Marianna assured her.

The first few seconds of any talk were always the worst. After that Nell always settled into her stride. Today was different. Today, as she delivered her prepared talk, Nell was conscious of two things: Molly and Marianna creeping down the steps at the side of the platform to find a seat near the front…and a man standing at the back of the room in the shadows.

Nell felt him even before she saw him, and her heart raced in response. From that moment on, his presence was a nagging distraction. The lights had been dimmed to allow the audience’s attention to focus on the stage, but through some inner eyes she could sense his every movement—the regular movement of his chest as he drew breath, the muscle working in his jaw…She tried to tell herself that she was being ridiculous, but unless Luca Barbaro had a doppelgänger in Venice, there was no mistaking the arrant masculine figure.

It was her worst nightmare come true. It was also her moment of triumph, Nell told herself firmly. Each time one of her volunteers went into a hospital to speak up for anxious relatives, she thought of Luca Barbaro and the offhand way he had treated them—leaving her at the mercy of a security guard while Molly was taken away, refusing to give her any information about Molly’s condition…His lack of consideration was one of the prime drivers that had led her to expand the scheme—a fact she was sure he would be delighted to learn.

Firming her jaw, Nell continued with her speech. There would have to be a meeting with Barbaro at some point, she knew that, but she had thought it would be conducted somewhere different, somewhere private—a sterile office, neutral territory, where she would lay her case before him with the same lack of passion he had displayed the first time they met. But for this one evening this hall was her territory, and the man in the shadows was a hostile and unwanted intruder who had chosen not to sit with the rest of the audience, but to remain leaning against the door with his arms folded across his chest as if to signify the fact that he wasn’t going anywhere. And even with a roomful of people between them she could sense his animosity.

A frisson of alarm ran down Nell’s spine when he shifted position. He was even taller than she remembered, and the heat of his stare was drilling into her…

She had stopped talking, Nell realised; everyone was waiting for her to continue. With a quick smile of reassurance, she started to wind up her speech. She couldn’t afford to lose her concentration now that she was about to throw the meeting open to questions.

She had made sure that invitations had been delivered to every hospital and clinic in the area, not just the staff of this hospital in which she hoped to pilot the Venice scheme. The work of her volunteers depended upon the co-operation of the staff within each establishment…and that meant every single member of staff. Nell glanced again at the figure in the shadows, wondering what it would take to get Luca Barbaro on her side.

She listened carefully to each question, judging the mood of the audience before she spoke. She had less to do at the sharp end these days than she would have liked, but she was a good speaker, and her role was to spread the scheme, recruit and train. It was up to her to convince the audience that the successful record of her project was something they wanted to buy into.

For about a quarter of an hour things went really well. Nell was using an interpreter and the discussion so far had been good-humoured. It augured well for her pilot scheme. She was relieved to have found an answer to every question…relieved that the man in the shadows seemed to have disappeared.

‘Will you personally set up your project?’

Every fibre in her body tensed. The voice, speaking English, was unmistakable.

‘Yes.’ Nell took a moment before saying anything more. Her breathing had turned instantly ragged, and she knew that her voice would be trembling when she spoke again if she didn’t pull herself together. The last thing she wanted was for Luca Barbaro to know how badly he affected her.

‘That’s right, I will be staying in Venice while we test the pilot scheme.’ She spoke firmly, scanning the room. But he had moved. The lights had been turned up for the questions, but she couldn’t spot him. ‘I always remain on call during the start-up period.’

The interpreter began to translate, which gave Nell the chance to search for Luca.

‘So you’re going to be working in the hospital, supervising the scheme?’

Nell ground her jaw. Why couldn’t she see him? ‘No, I’ll be off site. My job is to train—’

‘And to pass on your dislike and mistrust of the medical profession?’

Nell froze. She wasn’t alone in that. Quite a few members of the audience had no trouble understanding English and she could hear a low rumble of surprise. When the interpreter translated Luca’s words into Italian the rumble grew.

Everyone was waiting to see what she had to say in reply. She kept it light and friendly, even faintly indulgent, hoping to make it seem that she was dealing with an honest mistake, rather than a troublemaker. ‘I’m sorry, but you’re wrong, Dr…’ She waited for Luca to supply his name—to come out of the shadows and face her like a man.

He chose not to.

Resting her hands lightly on the podium, Nell smiled ruefully at her audience. ‘I couldn’t do the work I do if I held those views, could I?’