The Midwife's Secret Child

by Fiona McArthur

  No doubt, soon Chloe would ask Raimondo about his town and his life so that he could share things with them—things that she had no knowledge of. Her daughter was thirsty for knowledge of new things. New places. There were certainly opportunities coming up for her there. For Faith too.

  Crossing her fingers, Faith hoped her daughter could wait for those questions until they reached the beach so she could hear the answers too.

  ‘The book Mummy is reading me at the moment is called Chicken Little. Have you read it?’

  Faith smiled to herself at Raimondo’s answer. ‘No. What is this story about?’

  Chloe turned her head to look at him. Faith suspected her daughter rolled her eyes at that point. ‘A silly chicken thinks the sky is falling and tells all the animals they have to leave. To run. It’s very funny.’

  ‘I am glad that it is funny.’ Raimondo turned slightly to look at Faith for an instant. ‘Perhaps your mummy could read that story to you again, and I could listen?’

  Chloe stopped and turned back to Faith. ‘Mummy? Could you read the Chicken Little story when Mr Salvanelli comes to visit?’

  Faith shooed her on. ‘We’ll see.’

  * * *

  ‘So is Italy bigger than Lighthouse Bay?’ Chloe’s question came as his daughter settled down again on the sand. They were on the beach and had made a small area their own with their things.

  Raimondo liked that there was nobody else here. So strange when it was such a picturesque spot, but perhaps more families would come later.

  The chairs Faith had given him to bring were set up and the umbrella she’d carried angled over them all. His daughter played at their feet with a small bucket and spade in the sand and he felt like pinching himself to be sure he wasn’t dreaming this moment in time.

  He was with his family.

  Every now and then his daughter would run on sturdy legs to the water’s edge and fill her bucket with water and bring it back to pour over sand so she could plaster the walls of the mound she said was a castle.

  It began to take shape. He’d never made a sandcastle as a boy but could see the attraction. Perhaps he could try? To help her. Chloe began to stick shells on the walls. He glanced at Faith but she was staring out over the sea, deep in thought.

  ‘May I join you?’ he asked Chloe.

  Chloe nodded vigorously. ‘We can make it taller.’

  So, awkwardly, for he had no skills with children, he crouched down on the sand beside his daughter and began to scoop out the sand in a narrow line to build a moat, putting the sand he removed on the top of her mound. The sand was cool and damp and coarse and felt strangely comforting as he ran his fingers across its salty cleanness to smooth the new walls of the castle.

  ‘I see you build good castles. I am a man. We build forts. So, with your permission, I will dig a moat and build a wall to keep our castle safe from those who might attack while you make it pretty.’ Was he being too stereotypical?

  She laughed. ‘The water will attack it.’

  ‘I will build a diversion for the water.’

  Each time she patted on another handful of sand it was as if she had also found a question. He had to smile at her fertile and free-flowing mind.

  He had hundreds of questions and couldn’t seem to ask any.

  So instead he thought how to describe his home when she asked about it. ‘I live on the outskirts of the city of Florence. It is much bigger than Lighthouse Bay.’ He thought about his beautiful Florence and the thousands of people who lived there and the hundreds who visited every day. Unlike this tiny place. ‘Our house is part of a very old villa belonging to a nobleman many years ago but purchased by my grandfather and restored. It has several buildings and many rooms and a garden that grows olives and looks over Florence and the Arno Valley.’

  He saw Faith look up at that. She raised her brows at him with shock in her eyes but he pretended not to see. They had not spoken of Italy much in the time they’d spent together.

  ‘How many rooms?’ His daughter remained persistent.

  ‘There are four other dwellings but the main house has ten bedrooms.’ He shrugged. ‘My brother’s house has nine bedrooms. Mine has six.’

  ‘That sounds big.’ Here she looked at her mother. ‘That’s big, isn’t it, Mummy?’

  Faith looked at her daughter. ‘Sounds a bit like the size of the hospital, really,’ she said, her voice dry. ‘You know how it has some separate buildings with other wards in them. Instead of looking over the ocean, his house looks over a city and a valley.’

  His daughter nodded and looked much struck. ‘You must have a big family.’

  He spread his hands. ‘And this is our sadness.’ He shrugged. ‘No. My twin lost his wife and son and I am not married any more. We are the last of our family.’

  Chloe lowered her brows and shook her head, her little face serious. ‘You should get married and have a family.’

  ‘Yes, I should.’ He glanced ruefully at Faith. ‘My brother and I both should marry but his love died and mine wasn’t meant to be.’

  He saw Faith turn away to hide her expression, or to look at something he could not see. He wished she had not turned her face. Then she turned back and there was something in her face that made him pause in his explanation.

  Faith said quietly, ‘It’s not polite for little girls to tell adults what they should do, Chloe.’

  ‘Oh?’ She glanced at her mother and sighed. ‘Okay. Sorry, Mr Salvanelli.’

  Just like that. No angst from either, just a correction. Different to his upbringing, where the emotion always ran high and even the wrath of God was often introduced. So different. He searched for a way to reassure both. ‘I am not offended but thank you for your apology. I have a question. Do you always make sandcastles or do you make other things in the sand?’

  The change of topic was gratefully accepted by all parties.

  ‘I make sandcastles, though they’re not really castles. I’ve never seen a castle except in books about princesses. I love princesses.’

  She could certainly hold a conversation. He was glad English was his second language and he didn’t have to translate in his thoughts. She was adorable and he couldn’t help considering how his family home was very much like a castle.

  He would show her one day, hopefully not too far away in time, and with luck she would be enchanted. But that possibility remained with her mother, who was watching him with an inscrutable expression on her beautiful face. Inside himself he knew that he would also like to show Faith his world, but at the moment that look on her face warned him to be careful.

  ‘Mummy said you are a doctor?’

  His eyes returned to his daughter. ‘Yes, I work in a part of Florence that is poor and the people come to our clinic because it is free. Sometimes I work in other countries if there is a disaster.’ Though he couldn’t get away as much as he liked since his brother’s wife had died.

  ‘Mummy is a midwife.’

  ‘I know. I saw her at her work yesterday.’

  ‘Do you catch babies too?’

  This he didn’t understand. ‘Catch babies?’ He looked at Faith. ‘Babies who fall?’

  When Faith laughed her mouth curved with amusement, her eyes crinkled and the already ridiculously bright day seemed to grow sunnier to him.

  She explained, ‘In the past it was said that the doctor “delivered” the baby. Of course, it is the mother who does all the work so here we say we are only there to ensure the safe gathering of the mother’s work. So to “catch a baby” as it is born. Chloe has heard me say it many times.’

  He smiled at his daughter. ‘Yes. Rarely I catch babies but mostly I help those who are sick. Little girls and boys your age. Old ladies and men who are frail. I have come to know many families from the outskirts and it is something I am proud of.’

  Chloe was so inter
ested in him. Thirsty for knowledge he could share. He was having a wonderful conversation with his daughter!

  For a moment he so deeply regretted the lost time. Maria had a lot to answer for by keeping this news from him... He could feel his mood slipping and Faith’s calmness seemed to wrap around him as he considered who really had suffered.

  That was not all Maria’s doing and bitterness would taint this new promise of a family. He would not do that. No. This was his doing and he would be the one to repair any damage. He had been the one who had flown from Australia into his family’s turmoil, into deathbed promises to a man he owed everything, and into funerals. He had been distracted but had not once paused to check, to confirm the safety or check for unexpected complications from his incredible but reckless Australian liaison.

  It did not matter that he’d had a marriage to arrange. Then a funeral.

  Years he had wasted.

  But at the time he’d thought they hadn’t been reckless. He had used protection and she also. The thought of this accident of birth occurring sixteen thousand kilometres away had never occurred to him.

  It should have occurred to confirm Faith’s wellbeing though.

  And after Maria had left? Why had he accepted that Faith was in his past and would be settled happily without him? Why had he assumed their amazing connection had meant so little to her when its magic had settled in a space in his heart that it would never leave?

  He’d been determined to fill his life with work when he should have returned at least once to Australia to confirm she was happily settled and his own thoughts were the only ones wistful for what had ended. He still didn’t know the answer to that question but had yet to be convinced there wasn’t hope.

  The time after divorcing Maria he hadn’t wasted, because he’d given it to others. It had been healing to draw strength from those in poverty wearing quiet fortitude so that he could not feel sorry for himself. Both locally and abroad in disaster zones.

  Helping others after the dissolution of his marriage, and the tragic loss of his brother’s family, he’d found peace from unobtrusively being present in their need.

  But he’d wasted his chance of happiness.

  Wasted Faith’s chance of happiness.

  Wasted time he could have spent with Chloe.

  But now he would work towards the challenge of proving himself worthy of Faith and Chloe. This was his new goal for a future that stretched ahead. He stared out over the white sand, over the tumbling shallows, over the rolling waves to the place where the ocean met the sky and prayed that he could be worthy to become a part of their lives.

  CHAPTER NINE

  FAITH COULDN’T HELP responding to the depth in Raimondo’s voice when he told Chloe about his practice in Florence and his aid work, though she knew his simple version was watered down for young ears.

  Somewhere inside her a warm gladness expanded that he’d found a vocation he’d been lacking before. None of this passion had been there when he’d spoken of the business side of the pharmaceutical company. It had all been her enthusiasm for her work.

  So now she was glad for him. Glad he’d found a purpose in life, even if he hadn’t found a happy marriage.

  But that didn’t change anything. He hadn’t looked back to what they’d had in those magical few days. If she let him into their lives now, and she couldn’t see how she had a choice about that, it was going to be hard to trust him not to fly in like a comet until Chloe was starry-eyed and then zoom away again.

  Certainly she would guard her own heart from him this time.

  Looking back, she could see so clearly, his tilted head, his warm eyes as she’d raved about why she loved her job in maternity. He’d watched her as if she’d been the most beautiful, interesting woman he’d ever seen and she, young that she’d been, had been flattered and eager to expound her beliefs.

  She even remembered that next day, taking him through the cave, raving about the way water seeped through limestone and dissolved the rocks to form caves. How wonderful it was.

  He’d surely known that but she’d been too besotted not to spout all the things that inspired her in her cave tours and dragging him down to the ancient riverbed had seemed the best gift she could give him for the gift he’d given her—a whole new world of wonderful love, sensuality and awareness.

  Which, sadly, had ended when he flew away for good.

  The warmth in her belly abruptly changed to a chill.

  Yes.

  Be careful.

  And be careful of Chloe falling in love too.

  She glanced at her waterproof watch and recognised the sudden need to cool down. She struggled inelegantly out of her beach chair. ‘Enough time has passed since breakfast. I think I’ll go for a swim. Would you like to come and splash with me, Chloe?’

  Her daughter jumped up immediately. ‘Are you coming, Mr Salvanelli?’

  Faith noted Raimondo’s grimace at Chloe’s formal address and, yes, she could see this was hard for him. But some of the softening she’d been unaware of had already caught her out.

  She needed to stay vigilant and firm on boundaries between him and Chloe until she knew what he hoped for.

  He might become the perfect dad.

  Or not.

  But she wasn’t creating storybook fantasies of what daddies were like and wouldn’t risk breaking Chloe’s heart until she was sure the devotion would be reciprocated. For all she knew, he could be called away again tomorrow and off he’d go to answer a summons without a backward glance at them.

  He had the right to leave any time.

  She had the responsibility to protect her daughter in case he did.

  ‘Sí, I will come.’ He rose, a smooth uncoiling of muscles, and she dragged her eyes away from the leashed power of him. Darn him. How could getting out of a folding chair seem sexy? She turned away.

  Then he said, ‘Are you sure you do not need help with suncream on your back, Faith?’

  The body part in question was directed to him so he couldn’t see her eyes close as she imagined that. Big hands. Powerful fingers with slow movements. Sigh. Sensible was so darn sucky. ‘No, I’m fine, thanks, I’ll only be in and out of the water.’

  She pushed herself forward through the sand, Chloe hopping beside her, as she headed for the sea. She needed to be clear on the boundaries for herself too.

  * * *

  They stayed at the beach for the morning, picking through the basket for food and drinks, choosing topics that sat easily as well, while the solitude of the beach slowly disappeared. Two surfers arrived and ran out into the waves. A lone fisherman walked the beach edge further along the bay.

  Soon more families arrived, just as they were packing up. Ellie and her husband and daughter. The new arrivals dumped their chairs and towels beside them to greet them.

  ‘Hello, people. Nice to see you.’ Faith had relaxed enough for this to be almost true. Though she did wonder if Ellie had told Sam that Raimondo was Chloe’s father. And what they all thought about Raimondo helping in maternity. At least she’d told Ellie about Raimondo.

  It was actually neat that she could introduce him to the Southwells after the years of them knowing he’d been briefly in her past. ‘This is Dr Raimondo Salvanelli from Florence. Raimondo, this is Ellie, my boss, and her husband, Dr Sam Southwell, and their daughter Emily.’

  ‘Good to meet you, Raimondo,’ Ellie said. ‘I’m more the paper pusher than Faith’s boss. We’re self-directed here. Heard you two have been busy already.’

  Faith thought of the birth yesterday, and then remembered the man who had collapsed. She needed to phone and find out how he was, but he’d been swept from her mind by Raimondo. How awful.

  Raimondo must have read her thoughts. ‘He was improving this morning when I rang.’ Thank you, she thought silently.

  Ellie had carried on. ‘Congratulat
ions on the successful resuscitation. Both of them. Faith was lucky you were there.’

  Raimondo nodded a friendly greeting. ‘Your midwife had it under control. Very nice to meet you both. Faith has mentioned you, Ellie. All good things,’ Raimondo said, smiling, and his ease of manner made Faith’s jangled nerves settle as he held out his hand to meet Sam’s.

  ‘Welcome to Lighthouse Bay,’ Sam said. ‘This your first time here?’

  Raimondo smiled blandly. ‘Second. I couldn’t believe how deserted the beach was this morning. It is very different to Italy.’

  Another family group hailed them. Catrina, another of the midwives and only recently on maternity leave, a month before her baby was due, waddled a little with the weight of her pregnancy. Her husband Finn arrived with his daughter Piper, who’d not long ago turned three, and two chairs. The little girls whooped and ran in circles, excited to see each other, and all the mothers smiled.

  Introductions continued as Finn and Raimondo shook hands.

  ‘You should join us for dinner tonight,’ Ellie said. ‘It’s Sam’s dad’s birthday, and we’re having a barbecue. Chloe would be excited to see the girls as well.’

  ‘Who’s working?’ Trina asked as she shook hands with Raimondo.

  ‘Broni. It’s her last shift before holidays and then we have Stacey back from the base hospital.’

  * * *

  Faith, Raimondo and Chloe left the beach a few minutes later, having agreed to meet everyone for the barbecue, and wandered back up the hill with chairs, umbrella, a much lighter basket and a tired little girl with a bucket and spade bringing up the rear.

  Faith struggled with herself on whether to invite Raimondo in as they neared the house. Did he need some time to himself? She guessed it had been a pretty big twenty-four hours.

  The thought made her almost laugh out loud.

  Here she was being a coward at the thought of inviting him in. Scared to be alone with him because Chloe would probably go to sleep for an hour, something she’d been doing lately in the afternoon, and she did need to find out what Raimondo’s plans were.