Matti was playing with the trolley, pushing it back and forth until suddenly it went over onto its side. He made a grab at it, tried to haul it upright, and failed. A little choke of distress burst from him.
‘Never mind,’ Ruggiero said. ‘I’ll do it.’
But Matti didn’t seem to hear him. It was as though the tectonic plates of his world had shifted. A minor hiccup that he’d laughed off hours earlier was now a major disaster. His choke turned into a wail, growing louder and louder until it became a scream that went on and on in pitiful agony.
‘He’s over-tired,’ Polly said. ‘He doesn’t normally stay up this late.’
She had to raise her voice to be heard above the child.
‘Shall I try putting him to bed?’ Ruggiero asked.
But when he reached out Matti fended him off.
‘Mummy!’ he screamed. ‘Mummy!’
‘It’s you he wants,’ Ruggiero said.
‘No, not me,’ Polly said sadly. ‘I’m not his mother. Freda was, and she’s the one he’s crying for.’
She dropped down to one knee, trying to take Matti in her arms, but he lashed out, arms flailing in all directions, until one of them caught her a stinging slap across the face, which made him howl louder.
‘Mummy-Mummy-MUMMEEEE-’
‘Doesn’t it help that he knows you?’ Ruggiero asked desperately. ‘He must be close to you, too.’
‘Yes, but he wants his mother, nobody else.’
By now Matti had lain down on the floor, pounding the hard tiles and shrieking, ‘Mummy! Mu-mmy! MUMMEEEE-’
Polly raised him, going to the sofa and sitting down with him on her lap. She was ready to dodge another blow, but there was none this time, and the little boy simply collapsed against her, sobbing in helpless despair.
Polly rocked back and forth, shattered by the suddenness of his collapse, and frightened by what she felt happening deep inside herself. The child’s grief seemed to reach into her, awakening her own, tearing her apart. At last something broke in her, and she too began to weep. She tried to keep control, but the tears streamed down her face, mingling with Matti’s tears.
‘I’m sorry, darling,’ she choked. ‘I’m so sorry. I know I’m not the one you want. I know-I know-’
‘Mummy,’ he wailed softly, his face buried against her.
‘I wish I could have kept her alive for you-I did all I could-I did try-but I couldn’t-I couldn’t-’
She gave up and dropped her head, so that her cheek rested against his hair while anguish welled up inside her and overflowed. At this moment she no longer remembered the self-centred predator who’d used her beauty without scruple. She saw Freda as she’d been in the last months her beauty gone, her life slipping away, her eyes filled with fear-and she was consumed by love and pity.
The family exchanged appalled looks, and the women began to move closer to where they could reach out and offer comfort. But Ruggiero stopped them with a gesture, and it was he who went to Polly and dropped down on one knee beside her, resting a hand on her arm. He didn’t speak, but he stayed like that while she tried vainly to control the violence of her feelings.
‘Polly,’ he said gently. ‘Look at me.’
She shook her head. She didn’t want anyone to see her face.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘But let’s take him to bed.’
She nodded, unable to speak.
‘Come on,’ he said, urging her to her feet.
The others stood back as she rose with Matti in her arms and left the room, guided by Ruggiero. Hope gave him a nod of approval as he passed.
When they reached her room he opened the door, standing back while she carried the child in.
‘I’m all right,’ she choked, sitting down on the bed.
He took a paper handkerchief from a box and used it to dab her face. She pulled herself together by force.
‘You’re still crying,’ he said.
‘No, I’m not,’ she gasped, through a new bout of sobs.
He didn’t answer, but sat beside her, his arms about the woman and child, listening to their mingled weeping, saying nothing, waiting until they were ready, however long it might take.
CHAPTER NINE
AT LAST Polly’s shoulders stopped shaking and she managed to grow calmer.
‘I’m all right now,’ she said.
He didn’t believe for a moment that she was all right. She was pretending because she refused to think of herself. He wondered just how often she did think of herself.
But all he said was, ‘Let’s put him to bed.’
She looked down at where Matti lay in her arms, calmer, but still weeping quietly, and kissed him.
‘Come along, darling.’
‘Where do you keep his night things?’ Ruggiero asked.
‘In that drawer.’
He drew out some clothes and watched while she undressed Matti and changed him.
‘Why don’t you help me put on his night suit?’ she said.
But he shook his head.
‘He doesn’t want a stranger right now. You’re all he has to cling to.’
He pulled back the covers for her as she laid Matti into the cot. He was asleep almost at once.
‘And now he’s as good as gold,’ Ruggiero mused, looking down at him.
‘He’s always as good as gold,’ Polly said quickly. ‘That wasn’t a tantrum. He was confused and miserable because he’s missing his mother, and he screamed at the world because that’s all a toddler knows how to do.’
‘Not just a toddler,’ Ruggiero said. ‘Isn’t that what I’ve been doing-screaming at the world? Only I don’t have his excuse. I told you, I don’t like the sight of myself right now.’
He touched the tiny hand lying outside the cover.
‘Maybe he and I can help each other,’ he murmured. ‘We seem to speak the same language after all.’
‘I should have seen it coming,’ Polly said regretfully. ‘So much has happened to the poor little mite-’
‘But what about you?’ he asked, looking at her.
‘I’m all right,’ she repeated, but already the tears were sliding down her cheeks again. ‘I don’t know why-just- suddenly-’
‘It was bound to happen. You’ve had to be strong for a long time, but nobody can be strong for ever.’
‘I’m a nurse. Being strong is-is-what I do.’
‘Even a nurse is human.’
‘I’m used to looking after sick people,’ she whispered. ‘But when it’s someone of your own, for months-I did want to help her-but it was beyond anything I could do. I watched, and tried to make it a little easier for her, but I never did any real good. I couldn’t-I couldn’t-’
It was happening again. As one wave retreated another engulfed her. She began to pace up and down, weeping, not looking where she was going until she found herself facing the wall and laid her head against it, unable to do anything else.
He was behind her at once, taking gentle hold of her, turning her to face him and putting his arms about her.
‘Let it go,’ he said. ‘Don’t fight it.’
She made a vague gesture, almost as if to draw back, but he tightened his arms and then it seemed natural to let her head fall on his shoulder and give way to the grief she’d barely known that she felt.
She felt him drawing her towards the bed, sitting her down and sitting beside her. She seemed to have no energy left, and no hope-nothing but the misery that had consumed her without warning. She sobbed violently, no longer trying to master it.
Polly sensed that he’d turned his head to lay his cheek against her hair. But he made no other movement until
