The Italian’s Baby

‘I’ll drive it.’

But he had to give up after the first mile, and she drove the clanking vehicle the rest of the way.

‘Turn left, down there,’ he said almost as soon as they were in the village. ‘Becky, I said down there.’

‘Later,’ she said, bringing the van to a noisy halt outside the doctor’s surgery. ‘First we go in here.’

‘I told you I’m all right,’ he groaned.

‘And I’m telling you that you’re not.’

‘Becky, I don’t want-’

She lost her temper.

‘Did I ask you what you want? Luca, it’s very simple. I’m the only person who can drive at the moment, and I’m going nowhere until you’ve been to the doctor.’

‘That’s blackmail.’

‘Yes, it is. So what?’

‘You’re just being stupid.’

‘Fine, then the doctor can tell me so.’

But the doctor said no such thing. He was an old man with modern ideas, who’d equipped his surgery with a lot of good equipment, including a small X-ray machine. It took only a short time to establish that Luca had cracked two bones and smashed a third.

‘It’s good that you came straight to me, signore,’ said the doctor as he set the hand in plaster. ‘Otherwise your hand would have been crippled. You were very wise.’ He regarded them knowingly. ‘Or maybe you are just fortunate in your wife?’

‘Yes,’ Luca said.

‘Here are some painkillers, and two of these other pills will give you a good night. I hope you weren’t planning anything strenuous for the rest of today.’

‘No,’ Rebecca said quickly. ‘We were thinking of a journey, but now we’ve put it off until tomorrow.’

Luca simply nodded. He was looking worn and ill, and she sensed that this was only partly due to his injured hand. It was as though all the fight had gone out of him. He even agreed to stay quietly in the doctor’s waiting room while she returned the van and collected the car.

It was dusk as she drew up at the cottage, and she immediately set about getting the place warm and making him comfortable. His appetite was poor but he managed to eat some pasta with his left hand.

‘Go to bed now,’ she said gently. ‘And I think you should take the proper bed, and I’ll have the mattress.’

But he shook his head firmly and she made no further protest. He accepted her help undressing, then let her usher him into the rough bed like a mother with an exhausted child. He touched her hand briefly.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘For everything.’

She squeezed his hand, kissed him briefly and hurried out.

They were on the road early next morning, eating up the miles to Carenna in the silkily gliding car.

For this journey they had abandoned the jeans and sweaters in which they had been living, becoming sober and conventional again. In a severe, well-cut suit, Luca might have been the man she’d met again months ago, but he was not that man. His face had changed. It was thinner and almost haggard, as though he’d aged overnight.

At the start of the journey she touched his hand, and he briefly smiled at her, but then seemed to withdraw into a place inside himself. She could only guess at the suffering that was there.

They reached Carenna in the early afternoon and drove straight to the church. The town had grown since they were last there together, the streets were more crowded, and once they were caught in a traffic jam.

‘Do you remember the hospital?’ she asked, indicating the building through the window.

‘Yes, I remember.’

They were moving again, turning a corner so that he could see the builders working at the rear. He followed it with his eyes until the building was out of sight.

In another few minutes they had reached the little church, where they had once planned to be married. As she parked the car Rebecca glanced at Luca, wondering what he was thinking and feeling. But his set face showed no reaction and she was slightly disappointed. Until then she had felt that this was something they were doing together. Now she began to feel that he was further away than she had suspected, in a place where she was not invited to follow.

‘Is she here?’ Luca asked as they entered the churchyard. ‘Can you show me where she lies?’

‘Yes, come with me.’

The little grave was in a far corner and they had to pick their way carefully because the graveyard was densely crowded. At last they reached the little enclosed section where several children lay together.

‘Why are they here and not with their families?’ Luca wanted to know.

But then his eyes fell on the sign, Gli Orfani. Orphans. She saw him flinch.

At the end of the line they found the tiny grave bearing the legend ‘Rebecca Solway’, and the date of her birth and death. The stone was no longer quite straight, and although the grass had been cut back neatly the grave still looked as though it was struggling not to vanish among the others.

Luca dropped to one knee, leaning forward and peering at the words. Rebecca knelt beside him and saw how he reached out one big hand and laid it flat on the grass.

‘She must have been so tiny,’ he said in a choking voice.

‘Yes, she was. You could have held her in that hand.’

He closed his eyes. She could feel him trembling and her heart ached for him. She waited for him to turn to her.

The moment stretched on and on. He did not move and his eyes stayed fixed on the stone. At last she got up and walked away.

The little church was empty as she pushed the door open. Everything was quiet and her footsteps sounded very loud. It was disappointing that Father Valetti wasn’t here. She had liked the young priest with his round, friendly face and understanding eyes.

She strolled out again and saw Luca coming towards her.

‘Thank you for leaving me alone with her,’ he said briefly. ‘Shall I wait here while you go back?’

‘Yes, I…’

She stopped, realising that someone was hailing her from near the gate.

‘It’s him,’ she said, pleased. ‘It’s Father Valetti.’

The father advanced, a big smile on his plump, youthful face, recognising her.

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here,’ he said. ‘I’ve been at the bank. I’m afraid I’m not very good at finance.’ He shook Rebecca’s hand. ‘I’m so glad you came back.’

‘I always meant to, when the time was right. Father Valetti, this is Luca Montese.’

‘The little girl’s papa,’ said the priest immediately, shaking Luca’s hand. ‘Have you been to see her?’

Luca nodded.

‘And she does not seem quite real,’ the father said. ‘You think, what does this patch of earth have to do with my child? Especially after so long.’

Luca looked at him with sudden interest.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That was exactly how it felt. It has been so long-I didn’t know she was here.’

‘But one day you were bound to come,’ said Father Valetti gently. ‘And she has waited for you.’

‘I’m grateful to you for taking care of her. May I look round your church?’

‘Of course. It will be my pleasure to show you.’

Rebecca slipped away to have a few moments alone with her daughter. When she returned the two men were deep in conversation, and she knew that Luca had discovered what she had discovered herself, that this was a good man, and easy to talk to.

He can talk to him, she thought sadly. But not me.

Luca smiled as he saw her, but he seemed abstracted, as though some thought was occupying him.

‘What did you mean about the bank?’ he asked the priest. ‘Is the church in financial trouble?’

‘We will be if I can’t pay off the two-million loan I’ve just arranged,’ Father Valetti said, with a weak attempt at humour.

‘Two million euro?’ Luca echoed. ‘Is the church falling down?’