The Healer's Secret
Page 25
“You’ll learn to adapt,” Francesco said, trying to hide his amusement. “Just wait till it snows.”
“Oh, something else to look forward to,” I muttered, shivering. “Make sure the central heating’s working by then, please.”
The best moment of the day was the evening, after dinner. We’d light the fire in the living room and collapse on the sofa, reading a book, watching TV, or talking. Bella would curl up on the rug, her snout hidden under her tail, and fall asleep, twitching occasionally.
“It’ll be Christmas in a couple of weeks,” Agnese said one evening.
“Already?” Time seemed to pass so quickly here. I looked at her lying down on the sofa, one hand on top of her belly, the other holding a magazine.
“Uh huh. And look, there are some ideas here for decorating the house,” she said, pulling herself up into a sitting position with some difficulty and passing me the magazine. “Maybe we can make some biscuits and cakes. We’ll have to go to Mamma’s for lunch, but we can make something to take with us. What do you think?”
“Great idea. Are you sure you’re up to it?” She’d been getting tired lately, and often had to take a nap in the afternoon to get through the day.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, patting her stomach. “There’s more than a month to go, I’m not ready for bed rest just yet.”
For the next week or so, the house was permeated with the sweet aroma of biscuits and cakes baking in the oven as we made our preparations for Christmas. Francesco brought us branches of pine that we wove around the banister and over the fireplace. We made a wreath out of holly and ivy, and hung it on the front door.
By Christmas Eve, everything was ready. Francesco turned up with an enormous bunch of mistletoe just before dinner.
“Here,” he grunted as he entered the house. “I read somewhere that Americans use mistletoe at Christmas, so I presume the British do too.”
“Where on earth did you find so much?” I squealed in delight.
“It grows on the trees round here, there’s loads of it,” he said. “I’m glad you like it. What do you use it for, anyway?”
“You mean, you don’t know?” I grinned wickedly at him.
“Obviously not, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked.”
I broke off a small sprig and twirled it in my hands. Glancing at Agnese’s inquisitive face, I decided to go for it. I moved close to Francesco, raised myself up on my toes, and held the mistletoe above our heads.
“And?” But I saw a twinkle in his eyes, and knew he had already understood. I gently leaned over and kissed him on his cheek. He closed his eyes for a moment, expecting more, then opened them again with a disappointed expression.
“Later,” I whispered, feeling a thrill run through me.
“Jen,” Agnese said from behind us.
“I know, I know,” I said without turning around.
“No, Jen, I-I think…”
I whipped around to face her and saw liquid pouring from between her legs onto the floor. “Oh my God. It can’t be, it’s too early…” I saw her expression and made myself calm down, for her sake.
“Phone the hospital and let them know we’re coming,” I said to Francesco. “We’ll take her in your car, the ambulance will take too long. Everything will be OK,” I reassured Agnese, feeling a strange sense of calm come over me.
The moment we had been preparing for over the last few months had finally arrived; a little bit early, that was true, but I was ready.
I ran upstairs and got her hospital bag, which we’d only packed a week earlier. I could hear Francesco talking on the phone, and Agnese moaning softly as the first contractions started. Going back down, I nodded to Francesco.
“We’re good to go,” I said. He squeezed my shoulder, then we put our arms around Agnese and gently helped her walk to the car. Bella stood at the gate, watching us forlornly as we sped down the road.
Chapter Twenty-five
“You’re coming in with me, right?” Agnese’s anxious face stared at me from the stretcher, her brow furrowed as another contraction flooded through her.
I glanced at Francesco. “Go,” he urged. “I’ll wait out here.”
Agnese held out her hand and I took it, wincing as she squeezed it tightly. “Sorry,” she gasped.
I bent over and kissed her forehead. “You can squeeze as much as you like, anything that helps. Let’s get this done.”
Francesco touched my arm. “Good luck, all three of you.”
I smiled weakly at him and followed Agnese into the delivery room.
I heard the nearby church clock strike two as Agnese gave one final push and her baby was born.
“Thank goodness she came early,” a nurse remarked. “She must weigh at least three and a half kilos. Imagine if she’d gone full term!”
“Sh-she?” Agnese panted. “It’s a girl?”
I looked down at the squirming new-born. “You’ve got a beautiful daughter, Agnese,” I murmured, stroking her hair off her sweaty brow.
“With a right pair of lungs, too,” the midwife exclaimed. “Listen to her yell.” She was crying her little heart out, so loud I was sure she’d wake the entire hospital.
“Do you have a name yet?” the nurse asked Agnese.
She closed her eyes and rested her head back on pillow, exhausted. “Yes.”
I raised my eyebrows; we’d often spoken about possible names, but Agnese had refused to choose one before the birth.
“She’s going to be called Malva,” she murmured.
I clasped my hands in delight and felt like dancing. “Oh, Agnese, that’s perfect.”
“I knew you’d like it,” she whispered. “Malva Luisa Innocenti.”
The nurses shooed me out of the room while they cleaned everything up and made Agnese and Malva presentable. I found Francesco sitting on a plastic chair, head in his hands. He looked up as I approached.
“Everything OK?” he asked. “I heard a baby crying, was it…?”
I nodded and burst into tears.
“What’s happened?” he asked, worried.
“N-nothing,” I sobbed. “I-it was so incredible, you should have seen how wonderful Agnese was.”
“And?”
I stared at him, not understanding.
“Is it a boy or a girl?” he prodded.
“Ah. A girl, a beautiful baby girl… and she’s called her Malva.” I burst into tears again, my emotions finally finding release.
“That’s great,” he said, and I saw that he was welling up too. I’d shown him the grave some months before and told him all about my miscarriages, so he knew how much this moment meant to me. I promised myself that I would tell him the rest of the story as soon as I could.
“Just wait till I call Mum, she’ll be on the first plane over.” I grinned, imagining Mum screaming down the phone.
Francesco checked his watch. “Give it a couple more hours, it’s only one in the morning over there.”
“Really?” It felt like we’d been up for days, not mere hours.
“Signora?” The nurse poked her head out of the delivery room. “We’re about to move Agnese to the ward and take Malva to the nursery. Would you like to come?”
“Do you mind?” I said to Francesco.
“Don’t be silly. I’ve already phoned the family, I’ll wait here till they come.”
“You’re a wonderful man,” I said softly.
He grinned at me. “And don’t you forget it.”
I poked my tongue out at him and followed the nurse into the room. The baby was all wrapped up and lying in a cradle, and Agnese was almost asleep. She came to as I stood beside her, and yawned.
“I need a good sleep,” she said. “They’ve told me Malva’s fine, even though she’s a bit early. You can go with her if you want, I want to rest now.”
“All right. I’ll keep an eye on her for you. Get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, and Agnese…” I paused. “Happy Christmas!”
She smiled at me as she left. “You can stay as long as you like, just don’t disturb the others,” she whispered.
“Thank you,” I mouthed and sat down in a nearby armchair. The events of the night had left me drained of all energy and emotion, although I knew it wouldn’t take much to start me crying again. I gazed upon the tiny bundles in front of me, full of wonder for these miracles. If things had been different, how many would I have had by now? I thought. One? Two? Paul had never mentioned how many kids he wanted; he’d never mentioned wanting to have kids at all. With a sudden pang, I realised that I had been the only one who had wanted a child. My marriage had been based on that desire and that alone. It had been destined to fail, right from the start.
I hoped it would be different with Francesco. He knew about my inability to have children, he knew how it had destroyed my marriage and my faith in men, and he knew about my disastrous experience with Mark. If I was going to start a relationship with him, then I wanted to have everything out in the open right away. I gasped as I realised that I was seriously considering a relationship with the man. Malva, just a few feet away from me, symbolised a new start for my family, a way to put our past behind us. Anything seemed possible.
I jumped as she started to cry, a weak mewl that quickly turned into a loud, demanding wail. I picked her up, still swaddled in blankets, and looked down as she settled in my arms, falling back to sleep again. I’d had my doubts about whether I would feel jealous of Agnese being able to carry a child to full term, or whether I’d resent its presence and intrusion on our daily routine that would completely turn our lives upside down. But all those doubts dissipated as I held her sleeping in my arms, her trust in me absolute, her innocence protecting her from all the hurt in the world. Malva was destined to be a healer, this I knew as certainly as if it had been written in stone. I bent over and breathed in her aroma, my heart filling with unconditional love. “Welcome home, Malva,” I whispered, delighting in the baby’s soft snuffling sounds as she moved blindly, searching for her mother.
Francesco found me in the nursery still holding Malva in my arms, tears pouring down my cheeks. He wrapped his arms around us, silent, transmitting his strength to me. I looked up into his face, and knew that I was where I belonged. Finally.
In the distance, we could hear the voices of the Innocenti, and I smiled as their footsteps echoed along the deserted corridor. I had everything I’d ever wanted: a family, a baby, and a good man. My life was complete at long last. I turned to greet them: my family, the people who had healed me.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Since I published my first novel, Walls of Silence, last year, I have been on quite a journey. I’ve met authors and readers, and have made some very good friends, and I’m amazed at the supportive community I’ve found with people from all over the world. I’ve learnt a lot of things and I’ve come a long way since those early days, but I realise that I still have so much to learn. Every person I meet along the way is helping me grow and I would like to thank you all.
I took a lot of information about the use of herbs and how to make natural medicines from the book Herbal Lore by KJ Simmill. Any errors are all mine, and I apologise in advance if I have been too liberal with my interpretation of herbal remedies!
First of all, a huge thank you to my son for designing the fantastic cover and having the patience to put up with my demands. As usual, your creative ideas are outstanding!
Thank you to my editor, Joanie Chevalier, for turning this book around (literally, in some places!) and for all your support and encouragement during the whole process. Your little side notes made me smile and brightened up my day when things got too much for me.
I’d like to thank my wonderful group of beta readers, Sarah, Annette, Krissy, Jo, Abigail, Jeanne, Shirley, Jennifer and Adrienne for all your comments, feedback and proofreading! You did a great job, and the book is so much better for all your hard work. Thanks too to all the members of my Street Team for your help.
As usual, the last thank you goes to my husband, Ivan, for believing in me and giving me the strength to write this story. Your support and love mean everything to me, and every day I fall in love with you a little bit more. Ti amo, amore mio.
The story of the Innocenti family will continue in The Dragonfly Grove, to be published towards the end of 2018.
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