The Italian Surgeon's Christmas Miracle (13 page)

‘S
O WHERE
are you going to go? Have you got family in London?’

Amy tried to smile at the young constable because he was only trying to be helpful, but her ability to smile seemed to have deserted her. It just made her lips wobble.

‘No,’ she said. ‘My mother and sister are in Italy until tomorrow. My only other family is my grandmother and they’re bringing her back with them.’

‘We’ll have to get Social Services to organise placement for all the children, then.’

‘No. Please, don’t do that. We need to be together for Christmas. Isn’t there any way at all we could go back to our house? If we stayed out of the damaged rooms?’

‘You’ll be shocked when you see how much damage gets done by thousands of gallons of water being sprayed everywhere. The place is saturated and the electricity and gas are shut off. There’ll be no way of heating it and you’d all freeze.’

‘What about getting our clothes? Christmas presents?’

‘They’re probably all wet. Stinking of smoke, anyway. Look, I’m really sorry but there’s no way any of you will be going back to that house for the next few days.’

Maybe never, his expression said.

‘So you’ve all got to go somewhere. You can’t stay here.’

They couldn’t. They’d already been in the emergency department of St Elizabeth’s for hours. The children had all been given thorough physical check-ups. They’d been given lunch. They were all in clean, dry hospital pyjamas and still had the red ambulance blankets for extra warmth. Having been allocated a relatives’ waiting room and provided with toys, books and DVDs, they had also been visited by Claire—a kind, middle-aged woman from Social Services.

Claire came into the office where Amy was talking to the police constable.

‘They’re all happy,’ she told Amy. ‘Except that Zoe wasn’t too pleased at being collected by her mother. They wanted to know how Monty was getting on so I rang the vet. He’s fine.’

‘Oh, that’s good news!’

‘The clinic’s not far from here and he can be collected any time. The children are also asking if they can visit Summer.’

‘Not today.’ Amy shook her head. She had been able to spend some time in the intensive care unit herself while the children were being assessed, and while Summer was doing brilliantly, she was still sedated and on a ventilator. It would be distressing for the other children to see her like that. Amy had wanted to find out when the life support would be deemed unnecessary but the ICU consultants were busy with a new arrival and Summer’s surgeon had been nowhere to be seen.

‘Did you get through to your mother and sister?’

Amy nodded this time. That conversation had been dreadful. Rosa had panicked about her sons and Marcella had cried with despair.

‘Did they have any ideas about where you can all stay for a few days?’

Inspiration struck Amy. ‘We’ll go to a hotel,’ she said.

‘Can you afford that?’

‘Yes.’ It was a bill that wouldn’t need to be paid until they left, wasn’t it? Surely the house was insured.

‘Have you checked availability? It’s not a good time of year to be looking for last-minute accommodation. We do have foster-parents available.’

‘We need to stay together,’ Amy said stubbornly. ‘We’ll manage.’

‘What about clothes? You’ll need to go shopping. You’ll need help with babysitting. There’s meals to consider.’ Claire was looking more and more doubtful. She also looked as though she was gearing herself up to do her duty, however unpleasant the repercussions might be.

‘I know these children will be very upset if they’re separated,’ she began, ‘but I really can’t see any way around this.’

The office door opened as she spoke. Luke was back in his pinstriped suit. An authoritative figure that managed to take control before uttering a word.

‘I need to talk to Amy for a moment. Excuse us, please.’

She looked dreadful.

As though this was the end of the world.

And, in a way, it was.

In an astonishingly short space of time Amy’s world had disintegrated. Because of one family crisis, she had been left responsible for her home and the welfare of a large group of children. Now her home was damaged, possibly beyond repair, one of those children was critically ill and the others were in danger of being split up and having to spend Christmas in a foreign environment, away from anyone who knew and loved them.

Amy looked pale and worried but there was no air of being defeated, and Luke found that immensely admirable. There was no suggestion of accusation in her face, either, but Luke couldn’t help a twinge of guilt, even though it had been purely coincidence that the disintegration of Amy’s world had accelerated from the moment he had stepped into her life.

He had already decided not to evict the family prior to Christmas. At all, in fact. Not that he’d been able to tell Amy of his decision to hand over the house. It had hardly been the time when they’d seen that the house in question was on fire and the lives of its inhabitants in danger. And there hadn’t been a chance since.

The system had enclosed them all. Luke had been juggling his patient commitments, monitoring Summer’s condition and had had interviews with both the police and that woman from Social Services.

She had asked how much he knew about the Phillips family.

‘Just how well are these children being cared for?’

‘They have everything they need,’ he had responded. ‘Things are difficult at present with Amy’s mother being away and the house might not be in perfect condition but these children are warm and well fed and…they’re loved.’

‘They do seem happy,’ Claire had mused. ‘And very close to each other. That oldest boy, Robert, is determined that they’re going to stay together.’

‘Have you spoken to Amy yet?’

‘Not properly. I’ll do that soon, when I’ve had a chance to decide what we need to do.’

Luke looked at the way Amy was standing tall in front of him now, her chin raised and determination lurking in anxious eyes, and he knew Claire would find her even more determined than Robert to keep the family together.

It reminded him of their first encounter. Had it really been only two days ago that she’d tried to shut the door in his face? She had demonstrated how fiercely she was prepared to fight for her family.

She’d do anything, she’d said.

Anything.

The word had been echoing in the back of Luke’s mind with increasing intensity. His notion of gifting her the house and judging by her reaction whether her love-making had been as genuine as it had seemed was pointless now. The house was damaged and uninhabitable. Such a gift might even be seen as insulting.

So, amongst all the other duties that had kept him running, physically and mentally, for the last few hours, Luke had decided on another approach.

One that was out of character enough to be making him nervous.

Very nervous.

Not only was he going to listen to his heart properly for the first time in his life, he was going to act on what it told him even if it went against what was obviously more rational.

At least, he would, depending on the answer Amy provided to the question he was about to ask.

‘You said you’d do anything to save your house, didn’t you?’

‘Yes.’ Amy’s smile was wry. ‘It’s a bit late now to put my plan into action, though, isn’t it?’

It wasn’t too late for
his
plan, though.

‘When you said “anything”?’ he asked softly. ‘Did that include what happened last night?’

The play of emotions on Amy’s face was so clear Luke could actually feel the emotions they represented. Her first reaction was confusion. What had happened last night of such significance? A frown of anxiety appeared. Summer’s transplant? No. Amy couldn’t see the connection between Summer’s surgery and the house. What else had happened?

Amy’s expression softened. Her eyes darkened and her lips parted and Luke could see—
feel
—the memory of their time together. A time that had no connection to anything else because it had been simply theirs.

That it had been difficult for Amy to make a connection was all the answer Luke really needed.

But,
‘No,’
Amy whispered. ‘No, no, no!’

Luke drew in a careful breath. ‘Are you still prepared to do anything? To keep the children together and safe for Christmas?’

‘Of course.’ Amy looked puzzled now. Her gaze was fixed on him. She didn’t understand. Their immediate future was about to be dictated by social authorities who had more clout than Luke did in such matters. How could he be in any position to suggest an alternative?

‘What do you want me to do?’

Luke’s smile was crooked. ‘Trust me.’

It was the strangest meeting Amy had ever attended and it was just as well that input from her didn’t appear to be required.

Dazed by the events and emotional turmoil of the last few days, she sat on a couch in the relatives’ waiting room with the twins on her lap, a girl cuddled close on each side and two older boys flanking the arms of the couch like sentries, watching and listening while Claire asked the questions she should have asked Luke herself.

‘What arrangements? What on earth are you planning to do with six children?’

‘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.’