‘Not this time,’ his mother declared. ‘I’m going to stay here and look after your son. If you break your neck, you break your neck. That’s your business.’
But when he’d left the house she turned to Polly and said fearfully, ‘You’ll be there, won’t you? If anything happens you’ll look after him.’
‘Of course. But he’s probably right. Nothing will happen.’
She tried to sound reassuring, but she couldn’t voice her real fear-that what had happened before would happen again and he would see something that wasn’t there.
If it wasn’t there.
‘Leave him alone,’ she whispered. ‘You can’t have him. Do you hear me?’
There was no answer. Either Sapphire had admitted defeat, or she was too sure of victory to bother arguing.
A privileged crowd had been allowed into the stands that surrounded the track. Potential buyers, a few journalists, everyone from the factory, plus friends and family from the biking fraternity.
In their company Ruggiero relaxed. He spoke the same language as these people-the language of speed and danger, the language of ‘to hell with everything!’ He’d been away from them too long, among people who didn’t understand that risking your life was the most life-enhancing experience in the world. You had to toss it onto the flames to really enjoy the moment when you seized it back. What did they know?
There were ten riders, including Enrico, who had won more races than anyone else that season, and was eyeing the new bike hungrily.
‘It’s a bit soon for you to be riding again,’ he said coaxingly. ‘Take a longer rest.’
‘I have to prove that bike. Not me, but the bike.’
It wasn’t true. It was himself he had to prove again, but he couldn’t admit that to anyone else.
The leather suit he’d worn before was now clean and perfect. When he put it on he felt he become himself again: his real self, the one he wanted to be, who’d almost been lost.
There was applause as five riders walked out for the first race. He knew they were all watching him, willing him to streak ahead on the new bike and leave the rest standing. Either that or get killed. One or the other. That was just how he liked it.
He stood for a moment, looking around through his visor, knowing the others were awaiting his move. From here he could just make out the place where she’d been before. It had been different then, with speed creating half the illusion, but now he needed no speed to conjure up the woman who stood before him.
Suddenly he became quite still, watching, understanding everything for the first time.
Then he began to move.
Toni drove Polly down to the track, left her there, and returned home on his wife’s strict instructions. Polly was able to slip in and go to the same place in the stands where she had stood before.
The five bikes were already on the track, each with its own mechanic, waiting for the first race. Around her the crowd was abuzz with expectation. She couldn’t understand the words, but she could guess their meaning.
She clenched her hands, waiting for things to start. But before anything could happen she heard the shrill of her cellphone. Pulling it out quickly, she found herself talking to Kyra Davis, a nurse she’d become friendly with two years earlier. Kyra was older, well on the road to promotion, and she had been there when Freda had died.
‘I just called to say I’ve got my own ward at St Luke’s,’ she said, ‘and I have two vacancies. I’d love you to fill one of them. Where are you now?’
‘I’m in Italy.’
‘But you’ll come home soon, won’t you? Pop over and we’ll have a chat.’
‘Can I call you back about that?’ Her eyes were fixed on the track.
‘Sure, just remember there’s a job for you any time.’
She hung up.
There was a cheer. The bikers were coming out now. They all looked alike in their black leather and visors, but Polly would have known Ruggiero’s tall, lean body anywhere.
Don’t do it! Don’t do it!
She saw him walk towards the bikes with the others, saw him stop and look around. His gaze seemed fixed on the place where she stood. He seemed transfixed, rooted to the spot, as though something was there that was revealed only to him.
What can you see?
Then a murmur went through the crowd as Ruggiero pulled off his helmet and turned to the man beside him, saying something. The murmur turned to a groan of disappointment as Ruggiero made a gesture indicating his bike. The other man let out a yell of delight and punched the air, but Ruggiero never saw it. He was already walking away.
He went on walking across the track until he came to the place where Polly stood, her eyes glistening, her heart overflowing.
‘Enrico will ride for me,’ he said. ‘That’s it. Basta!’
‘What made you change your mind?’ she asked, hardly able to get the words out. ‘Did you see her?’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I saw you. And Matti was in your arms.’
‘It’s what you tried to tell me, isn’t it?’ he asked.
They were sitting in a small restaurant. After speaking to her Ruggiero had gone back to change out of his leather gear, giving her time to call Hope and tell her all was well.
Then they had left the track, finding the first place where they could sit together and talk quietly.
‘I tried to find the words, but there aren’t any,’ Polly said.
‘I had to learn it for myself,’ he agreed. ‘And now I have-just in that moment. I saw you holding Matti in your arms. The two of you were looking at me. But he wasn’t really there, was he?’
‘He’s at home with your parents. But, yes-he was with me.’
He nodded slowly. ‘And with me. For the first time I feel that he’s mine.’
‘And you are his,’ she reminded him. ‘Or it doesn’t work.’
He took her hand. ‘Let’s go home.’
Hope and Toni were watching for them, standing on the steps with Matti between them, each holding one hand. They came down slowly, releasing him when they reached the ground, so that he had only to waddle two steps before clinging onto his father’s leg for support.
Ruggiero dropped down to one knee to put his arms about his son.
‘We got there,’ he said huskily.
Polly stood back, watching them with pleasure, then exchanged glances with Hope and Toni. A decision was forming inside her.
She waited a few more hours, studying Ruggiero and Matti, but in her heart she was sure. These two had a road to travel yet, but they had found the start and placed their feet on it together.
She was even more certain when Ruggiero tried to assist his son in walking, holding his hand, and Matti impatiently thrust him away.
‘There’s a chip off the old block,’ Toni said, and Ruggiero nodded.
‘You used to fall over more often than not,’ Hope reminded him.
‘But he doesn’t fall over,’ Ruggiero said, regarding his child with pride.
At that moment Matti sat down hard.
‘That was my fault,’ Ruggiero hastened to say, speaking loud to be heard through his son’s bawled indignation. ‘He fell over my foot.’
At last Hope said, ‘It’s time this little one was in bed. Polly, shall we put him back in your room?’
‘No, let him stay with you,’ she replied quickly.
She joined the procession upstairs, but remained in the background during the ceremony as the last pieces of her resolution fell into place. Afterwards Ruggiero found her brooding on the terrace, and sat down, smiling contentedly.
She took a deep breath.
‘I’m glad this has happened now,’ she said. ‘It makes it easy for me.’
‘There’s something in the way you say that that makes me nervous.’
‘I have to go home for a while.’
