The Italian Girl (52 page)

‘Okay, the ambulance will be along shortly.’ The doctor reappeared. ‘And if I were you, I’d get Mrs Rossini back fast from wherever she is. I’m sure she’ll want to be with her son.’

At that moment the telephone rang.

‘I’ll get it,’ said Luca and ran to the bedroom to pick up the receiver.

‘Ella?’ bleated a panicked voice.

‘Rosanna, is that you?’

‘Luca? What are you doing there? I didn’t know you were coming.’

‘It was short notice, but that doesn’t matter now. You must catch the first flight back from Vienna, Rosanna. I’m sorry to tell you, but Nico is very sick. The doctor is here and we’re taking him to the hospital in Cheltenham. The doctor says he has measles.’

‘Oh, please God, no! I . . .’ A strangled sob came from the other end of the line.

‘Rosanna, I’m sure he’ll be okay. The doctor is here and Nico is in good hands. Try and get on a flight home as soon as you can.’

‘Yes. I’ll get a taxi from Heathrow and come straight to the hospital. Please, Luca, give my baby a kiss and tell him his mamma will be with him soon.’

‘Of course. Try not to worry. Goodbye, Rosanna.’ Luca put the telephone down as the ambulance pulled into the drive.

Five minutes later, the three of them were on their way to the hospital.

48

‘Well, Mrs Rossini, you’ll be glad to know that Nico is going to be all right,’ the consultant informed Rosanna.

She put her head in her hands and sobbed in relief. The past forty-eight hours had been the worst of her entire life. She’d arrived at the hospital in the early evening on Sunday to find Nico wired up to a drip. Luca had taken an exhausted and drained Ella home and Rosanna had sat, hour after hour, as her child passed through what the nurses had called ‘the crisis’. The following morning, Nico’s temperature had fallen and he’d slept more peacefully. And today he’d actually opened his eyes and smiled at her. The drip was removed after the doctors had pronounced that Nico was over the worst.

Rosanna pulled a tissue from her sleeve. She wiped her nose. ‘I’m sorry. After the last two days, it’s such a relief.’

‘I understand, Mrs Rossini. It’s unusual for a child to get the measles so badly, but it does happen. I take it he hadn’t been vaccinated?’

‘No.’ She reflected miserably that it was something that had never occurred to her in those dream-like months at The Manor House just after Nico’s birth.

‘Well, it might be an idea to arrange for anyone else in your household who hasn’t had the jab to get it done. Measles can be contagious for several days after the rash appears. Best to be on the safe side. As for Nico, he’ll obviously need some special care for the next couple of weeks, but he’s a tough little thing. He’ll be up and about sooner than you think. Another day here for observation and you can take him home. Now, I suggest that you go home and get some rest. Come back later this afternoon. We want to do a few routine tests this morning.’

‘Okay. I’ll go and kiss him goodbye. And thank you, Doctor, thank you.’

‘No need to thank me. It’s what we’re here for. And try not to punish yourself, Mrs Rossini. There’s little more you could have done, even if you had been with him.’

Rosanna shook her head. ‘I’m his mother. I would have known how sick he was sooner,’ she said quietly, and left the consultant’s office.

Nico was in a side ward by himself. He was lying in a cot, his back facing her.

‘Hello, darling,’ she said. ‘Mamma’s back.’

The little boy did not respond. Rosanna walked over to him, thinking he must have fallen asleep. She leant over the cot and saw that no, he was wide awake. When he saw her, he rolled towards her and gave her a big smile.

Rosanna picked him up and cuddled him. ‘Oh my darling, I swear I will never leave you again.’

An hour later, Rosanna arrived home in a taxi and wearily let herself into the house.

‘Ella?’ she called, but there was no reply.

‘She’s in her room taking a nap.’ Rosanna looked up and saw Luca standing at the top of the stairs.

‘Of course. She must be exhausted.’ Rosanna wiped a hand across her brow.

‘It’s hardly surprising after what she’s been through the last few days,’ he said as he walked slowly down the stairs towards her. ‘How is Nico?’

‘The doctor says he’ll be fine.’

‘That’s good news.’ Luca spoke in a tone devoid of its usual warmth. He joined her at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Would you like something to eat, Rosanna?’

‘No, thank you. I’ll just have a coffee. Then I’ll shower and try to catch some sleep. I must get back to the hospital this afternoon.’ Rosanna walked towards the kitchen and Luca followed her. He stood in the doorway and watched her as she filled, then switched on the kettle.

‘Rosanna, I’m leaving tonight.’

‘Of course. Thank you, Luca, for all your help.’

‘But before I go, I must talk to you.’

She looked at his face. He was pale, with dark smudges under his eyes, and his mouth was drawn into a line of tension. ‘Then sit down. Coffee for you too?’

‘Thank you.’

Rosanna put some coffee into two mugs and added boiling water and milk. She stirred them and joined her brother at the table. ‘What is it? I’ve rarely seen you look so serious. You’re scaring me.’

Luca put his hands under his chin and took a deep breath. ‘I have thought long and hard about whether I should say this. Rosanna, I love you very, very much, you know that, don’t you?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘And I would never interfere or question the way you live, or the decisions you take, if it were not that I feel a responsibility towards Ella. I promised Carlotta I would watch over her—’

‘Luca, before you go any further, please,’ Rosanna interrupted, ‘I know what you are going to say. I was wrong to leave Ella with Nico, very wrong. I will never do it again, I promise. Haven’t I been punished enough for what I did?’

‘I know what a good mother you are to Nico and how kind you’ve been to Ella, but’ – Luca shook his head – ‘I worry that this . . . obsession, this love you have for Roberto, clouds your judgement sometimes.’

Rosanna’s face turned pink with indignation. ‘No! You’re wrong! Roberto is the best thing in my life, apart from Nico. He loves me and supports me and—’

‘Then why isn’t he here now? When his child is in hospital? When his wife needs him by her side?’

‘You know why, Luca! Roberto has commitments. He can’t drop everything to be here. I accept it is the way his life is.’

‘But he had no performance on Sunday or Monday night. You told me that yourself, Rosanna. He could have easily flown back from Vienna with you and returned in time for Tuesday evening. Or maybe he was worried about catching such an infectious disease and—’

‘Stop it, Luca! Please, you’re being unfair. By the time Roberto arrived home, he’d have had to turn round and go back. He can’t let his audience down.’

‘But surely he was letting his wife and son down?’ Luca challenged. Then he sighed. ‘Rosanna, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pass judgement on anyone, least of all you. But Roberto, well, I think he changes you, influences you.’

‘Yes, for the better! I love him, Luca. And he loves me and Nico and . . . it is none of your business! You don’t know him like I do.’

‘You’re wrong, Rosanna. I know him far better than you think,’ he said quietly. ‘Do you really believe he always tells you the truth?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then what about his affair with Donatella in New York?’

‘Why are you trying to make me hate him, Luca? Why?’

‘I’m not. I know that it would be pointless. All I’m trying to say is that sometimes we can love people, but that doesn’t mean they bring out the best in us.’

‘Luca’ – Rosanna was angry now – ‘you talk about the love between a man and a woman with such authority, and yet you’re training to be a priest. How can you claim to understand how I feel when you’ve never known that kind of love yourself?’

Luca looked suddenly weary. ‘Rosanna, I don’t want to argue with you. I only say these things because I love you and I wish to protect you from things you do not,
cannot
know.’

‘What “things”, Luca? Tell me what you mean.’

‘No, Rosanna, forget I said that. I’m being stupid, overprotective.’

‘Luca, if you have something to tell me, then you must do so. I’m not a little girl any longer. So please don’t treat me like one.’

‘Okay.’ He paused before he spoke. ‘Roberto has things in his past that make me wonder if he is a good person. And he has such a hold over you, he influences you – sometimes I think, not for the better. Are you sure you know everything about him?’

‘Yes, I know everything!’ Already at the edge of her emotional limits from the past two days, Rosanna could take no more. ‘I know what he was, what he is! You hate him, Luca, you’ve always hated him. Well, I love him and it doesn’t matter what you say to me, I don’t care what you think!’

‘Rosanna, can’t you see? Roberto has lost you your family in Italy, your career, and sometimes, I think, your sanity. Now
we
are fighting over him! Do you not realise how destructive he is?’

‘You have no place telling me how I must live my life!’ She was shouting now, out of control, tears spilling down her face. ‘Please leave!’

‘Rosanna, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—’

‘
Leave!
’ She pointed at the door.

‘Don’t let us part like this.’

‘I will not have you in my house for a minute longer!’

Luca looked at her then shrugged sadly. ‘Okay, if that’s what you want.’

‘It is. And you needn’t worry, I’ll take care of Ella, not because I have to, but because I
want
to! Now go!’

Rosanna stormed out of the kitchen, ran up the stairs and into her bedroom. She slammed the door behind her.

Half an hour later she heard a car arrive in the drive and the doorbell ring. She went to the window and watched Luca climb inside a taxi. With a swirl of gravel, he was gone.

‘Ah, Mrs Rossini, come in, come in.’ The consultant ushered her into his office.

‘Is anything the matter? I’ve just been with Nico and he seems so much better.’

‘He’s recovering well, yes, but our tests this morning have shown up a problem.’

‘What? Tell me, quickly.’

‘Sometimes, in bad cases of measles, the hearing of the child can be impaired.’

Rosanna looked up at the doctor, her face anguished. ‘What are you trying to tell me?’

‘Mrs Rossini, there’s no easy way to say this. I can’t be certain, but I’m afraid that Nico’s hearing has been severely damaged.’

‘Oh God . . . no!’ Rosanna moaned.

‘I know, Mrs Rossini. It’s a shock, but you’re going to need to be brave for your son.’

‘Yes.’ Rosanna galvanised her courage from somewhere deep inside. The doctor was right. She had to be strong. ‘How bad is it? Will he be completely deaf?’

‘It’s too early to know the full extent of the damage, but as to his hearing in the right ear, very probably. His left ear is damaged too, but, it seems at this stage, not as seriously. We’ll obviously be conducting further tests. I’m going to introduce you to Mr Carson, our ENT specialist, and . . .’

The words of the doctor blurred into background noise as Rosanna stared past him. She could think of only one thing. Her son was the child of the great tenor, Roberto Rossini, without doubt the owner of one of the most beautiful voices in the world.

And now Nico might never again be able to hear his papa sing.

49

‘Mr Rossini?’

‘Yes, speaking.’

‘I have a telephone call for you.’

‘Thank you.’ Roberto, dripping from a shower, sat down on the edge of his bed. ‘Hello?’

‘Roberto.’

His heart sank. ‘Donatella, how are you?’

‘I’m well.’

‘Good.’ Roberto was eager to get her off the line. ‘Now—’

‘The weather is fine in Vienna for the time of year, is it not?’

‘How would you know that? Where are you?’

‘Downstairs in reception. We must talk. I’ll come up to your room.’

‘Donatella, this isn’t a good time. I must rest for my performance tonight. I think I have a cold coming on.’

‘What I have to say will only take a few minutes.’

The line went dead. Roberto sighed, donned his silk dressing gown and distractedly combed his hair.

There was a knock at the door and he went to open it.

‘
Ciao
, Roberto.’

‘Come in, Donatella,’ he said brusquely.

‘Thank you.’ She walked past him and sat down on a large chintz sofa.

‘How are you?’ he asked.

‘Never better.’ Donatella reached forward and took a large grape from the brimming fruit bowl on the table in front of her.

‘Good. You look very well.’ Roberto didn’t understand it. The woman was positively sparkling with happiness.

‘Thank you, I feel it.’ Donatella bit lasciviously into the grape, then eyed Roberto. ‘You, on the other hand, look terrible.’

‘Our son is in hospital. He’s been very ill.’

‘Yes, Chris told me you had family problems.’

‘I have.’ Roberto paced the room. ‘Look, what is it you want? Have you come to shout and scream, tell me what a bastard I am? If so, please let’s get it over with.’

‘No.’ Donatella shook her head and reached for another grape. ‘You
are
a bastard, Roberto, but you don’t need me to tell you that. Yes, I was angry with you for not returning to New York, for crawling back to Rosanna without even bothering to contact me, but’ – Donatella shrugged – ‘you are the great maestro, Roberto Rossini. You don’t have to answer to anybody, is this not true?’

Her ebullient mood was unsettling him. ‘Look, I apologise for what happened, Donatella. Rosanna forgave me and I went back to her. She’s my wife. And I never made you any promises.’

‘No. It’s true, you did not. And as it happens, I’ve since realised that I’m no longer in love with you.’ She waved her hand languidly. ‘The infatuation has run its course. If you begged me now, I wouldn’t take you back.’

‘Well then, what is the problem?’ Roberto hovered over her. ‘I really must rest, Donatella.’