The Italian Surgeon's Christmas Miracle

by Alison Roberts

  Amy woke up at the sound of her mother’s voice. She lurched to her feet to be enveloped in a hug, first from Marcella and then a long, tight, relieved embrace from her older sister.

  ‘Buon Natale, cara! Buon Natale!’

  ‘You, too, Rosa,’ Amy whispered back. ‘Buon Natale!’

  Happy Christmas!

  ‘Buon Natale, Nonna.’ Amy helped her grandmother into the chair she had been sleeping in.

  ‘Buon Natale, Mamma.’

  But Marcella wasn’t listening. Ignoring all the monitors, the IV lines, the beeping noises and everything else alarming, she was leaning over the bed, gently touching Summer’s face, murmuring a constant stream of endearments.

  ‘Oh!’ Amy clutched her sister’s hand and spoke in a hushed voice, not wanting to break the spell. ‘Rosa, look! Summer’s waking up.’

  And she was.

  Slowly. Peacefully. Surrounded by the voices and touch of the three women who were all mothers to her. Watched over by a benevolent small figure who sat, imperiously, in the armchair nodding and muttering approvingly at regular intervals.

  Staff came and went unobtrusively, keeping a close watch on what was happening but not disturbing this special family moment.

  Luke was there. He smiled at Amy. A smile that told her he understood how special this was. That he understood how much this mattered.

  Amy smiled back. Including him. Pulling him in to share the magic. Trying to find and reach through that crack she knew was there. To reach inside Luke—so he wouldn’t feel lonely.

  To let him know he never needed to feel lonely again.

  The smile went on. And on.

  It was no wonder Rosa noticed. She looked from Amy to Luke and back again. Then she stepped to where Luke was standing, well back from the end of Summer’s bed.

  ‘Does it hurt?’ she queried. ‘Where her chest was cut open for the operation?’

  ‘Surprisingly little,’ Luke responded. ‘Pain from fractures comes from movement and there’s very little movement of the sternum involved in breathing. Most children can be discharged from open-heart surgery with nothing more than paracetamol needed to relieve any discomfort. You’ll be amazed at how soon Summer’s up and about.’

  Rosa had been listening carefully. Watching and assessing Luke just as carefully. She gave Amy a quick grin as she stepped back towards her sister.

  ‘E un bell ‘uomo, vero?’

  Amy just raised her eyebrows. This was hardly the place to talk about how good-looking Luke was. Just as well he didn’t speak Italian, wasn’t it?

  There was just a hint of a wink in Luke’s expression as he nodded at Rosa while moving away, however.

  ‘Grazie,’ he murmured.

  Nonna scowled disapprovingly. Rosa’s jaw dropped and she flushed bright pink. Amy shut her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and then walked after Luke, but he was now standing beside the ICU consultant so she could hardly apologise for her sister’s inappropriate comment.

  ‘Summer needs to rest,’ the consultant reminded Amy. ‘It’s great if she has one or possibly two of you with her at all times, but we can’t have this many here all day.’

  ‘And it’s Christmas,’ Luke added. ‘You’ll all want some time with the other children, yes?’

  Amy nodded.

  ‘Henry’s waiting. He’ll take you back as soon as you’re ready.’

  ‘Rosa will want to see the twins,’ Amy thought aloud. ‘And Nonna will need a rest after travelling. I’ll talk to Mamma. I can stay if she wants to see the others.’

  Luke frowned, as though that plan wasn’t the best. But then he simply nodded. ‘Let me know,’ he said, a little curtly. ‘I have to go myself. I have a few things that need attention.’ He turned back to the ICU consultant. ‘I’ve got my mobile, of course,’ he said, ‘but I’d prefer not to be called unless it’s an emergency.’

  The consultant smiled. ‘Of course. Enjoy your Christmas, Luke. Things are looking good here. You’re happy with the lad you were working on last night?’

  Luke nodded. ‘Poor kid. Getting caught up in a gang fight and shot on Christmas Eve was a bit rough. He lost a lot of blood but I’m happy his cardiac function will remain normal. What we need to watch is…’

  His voice faded into the background as Amy went back to her family. So Henry was taking them back to the manor and Luke had things that needed his attention. Was he not planning to go home for Christmas? Some of the shine of happiness from Summer’s waking up and the reunion with her family faded.

  Marcella elected to stay.

  ‘I’ll come and see the rest of my bambina later,’ she said firmly. ‘Right now, it’s this little angelo that needs me the most.’

  ‘We’ll take Nonna with us, then,’ Rosa said. ‘Come on, Amy. I can’t wait to see the boys.’ She took her turn to kiss Summer. ‘See you later, tesora.’

  Summer smiled and gave an infinitesimal nod, but her gaze went straight back to Marcella.

  ‘Mamma,’ she whispered.

  ‘I’m here, carina. I’m staying right beside you.’

  ‘Chiesa!’

  ‘It’s a chapel, Nonna. A small church.’ Amy hadn’t seen the beautiful stone structure in the dark last night, but this morning, with its roof and the tops of surrounding gravestones softly blanketed by the deep snow, it was clearly visible amidst a forest of huge tree trunks.

  Her grandmother crossed herself and nodded approvingly. ‘Buona.’

  She approved of the Harrington family’s faith. What would she say when she learned the Italian connection with a woman who lay buried in that small private cemetery? There was no way she would approve of a broken family. A father who had been deprived of his only child. Maybe it was just as well she spoke only her native language.

  Rosa was still getting her head around the astonishing information Amy had shared—in English—during their journey from the city.

  ‘It’s so weird! Uncle Vanni’s son? And you’ve been working with him for so long and we never knew. Who’d have thought?’

  ‘He keeps his background very private.’

  ‘I can see why.’ Rosa was gaping as the manor house came into view. ‘It’s like something out of a fairy tale. If people knew how rich he was, he’d be beating women off with a stick.’ She eyed her sister. ‘He’s not beating you off, from what I could see.’

  ‘I’m not after his money,’ Amy said sadly. ‘If anything, I wish he didn’t have a background like this. It makes things impossible. Wait till you meet his grandmother. She hates me so much she couldn’t bear to stay in the same room as me last night.’

  ‘Because you’re in love with her grandson?’

  ‘We haven’t got that far. I think she hates me because I’m half-Italian. And because I’m connected with Uncle Vanni. I remind her of how she lost her daughter.’

  They were parking in front of the house now. ‘I saved that scrapbook,’ she told Rosa. ‘It might be the only thing of Uncle Vanni’s that isn’t lost in the fire. I’d been carrying it in my bag to show Luke and I’d forgotten all about it,’

  Which had been hardly surprising because that had been when she’d been swept off her feet. Made love to with a passion that had driven all else from her mind. And from there she had been whirled into a series of unexpected and very sharp turns in her life.

  ‘I left it outside Lady Harrington’s bedroom door last night when I went back to be with Summer. I wonder if she’s even looked at it?’

  There was no sign of Lady Harrington when Elaine met them at the front door.

  ‘We’re all in the kitchen,’ she told Amy, ‘having our Christmas breakfast.’

  Nonna seemed to be overcome by the sight of the Christmas tree in the foyer. Amy took her arm and urged her gently forward.

  ‘It’s just the Christmas tree, Nonna,’ she said reassuringly. ‘Albero di Natale. Isn’t it beautiful?’

  Nonna made a clucking sound that said, very eloquently, that she disapproved of such opulence,
but she followed Amy and Rosa willingly enough.

  ‘I’ve made a room ready for your nanna,’ Elaine said to Amy. ‘She’ll need to rest, I expect.’

  ‘Soon,’ Amy agreed.

  ‘Where’s Lady Harrington?’ Rosa queried politely. ‘I should introduce myself.’

  Elaine looked embarrassed. ‘I expect she’ll be down soon.’

  Christmas morning with six children in a house should have been seething with excitement, but the atmosphere in the huge, old kitchen was very solemn until Marco and Angelo spotted their mother.

  ‘Mamma!’ They scrambled from their seats at the table and launched themselves in Rosa’s direction like small, human torpedoes.

  Elaine laughed. The cook, Beryl, wiped her hands on her apron and grinned. Monty got up from his blanket in the corner to see what the fuss was all about. The other children, however, stayed at the table. They had plates of food in front of them. Slices of crusty bread and butter that looked homemade. Bacon and eggs and tiny sausages beside baked beans and mushrooms and potato cakes. The sort of food that was a special treat but they didn’t seem to be eating much of it.

  When the initial excitement of Rosa’s arrival subsided, they all sent wary glances towards Nonna, who was now sitting at the far end of the table, and then went back to playing with their food.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Amy finally asked. ‘Aren’t you happy Summer’s OK? You’ll all be able to visit her in a day or two. Only one at a time, but I think she’ll be home again before very long.’

  That did it. Robert pushed his plate away, his fork clattering onto the china.

  ‘We haven’t got a home any more,’ he said sullenly. ‘It got burned, didn’t it?’

  ‘Not all of it. We’ll fix things,’ Amy promised.

  ‘No, we won’t. And even if we do, your Mr Harrington’s going to take it away from us, so what’s the point?’

  Elaine exchanged a glance with Beryl. Raised eyebrows and quick head shakes indicated they knew nothing about this.

  ‘And…’ Quiet Andrew was looking as miserable as Robert. ‘It’s Christmas!’

  Chantelle burst into tears. ‘And we haven’t got any presents,’ she sobbed. ‘Not even one!’

  Amy sent a desperate glance towards Rosa, but her sister looked stricken. Maybe the credit card hadn’t been robust enough to deal with any airport shopping.

  ‘Hey!’ Amy gathered Chantelle into her arms, taking her chair and smiling at the rest of the children. ‘We’ve got each other, haven’t we? We’re all safe and we’re all together. That’s what really matters.’ She waited until Robert raised his head and caught her gaze. ‘Nobody is going to take our house away. Nobody.’ She hugged Chantelle. ‘And Summer got a present, didn’t she? The best present she could ever get. A new heart.’

  ‘So she’s not going to die?’ Robert’s Adam’s apple bobbed and his voice cracked and rose.

  ‘She’s got every chance of living now,’ Amy said confidently. ‘Much, much more than she had a couple of days ago.’

  ‘And Monty’s OK,’ she went on, trying to put a positive spin on this strange Christmas Day. ‘And he’s like a present, too, isn’t he? He can’t live with Zoe and her mum any more so he’s our pet.’

  ‘Really?’ Rosa reached past the twins to stroke the huge dog. ‘Cool!’

  Elaine put a steaming cup of tea in front of Nonna.

  ‘Grazie,’ the old woman said.

  Elaine patted her hand. ‘You’re welcome, Nanna.’

  Beryl filled the kettle again. ‘Your Henry’s coming back from putting the car away. He’ll be wanting some breakfast.’

  She didn’t take the kettle away from beneath the tap, however. She was still intent on peering out the window.

  ‘Mercy!’ she said, as cold water flowed over the top of the kettle and then her hand. She abandoned the tea-making and peered from the window again. ‘I don’t believe this,’ she muttered.

  ‘What?’ Elaine joined her at the sink. ‘Oh, my!’ She flapped a hand in a beckoning gesture. ‘Children! You’d better come and see. Quick! Out the front.’

  The excitement was contagious. A small stampede of children followed, Elaine with Rosa and twins bringing up the rear, closely followed by Monty who gave a single, loud woof as he bounded through the kitchen door.

  Amy looked at Nonna but she was sipping her tea, apparently unperturbed.

  ‘I’ll stay with your granny,’ Beryl offered. ‘You go and see.’

  Amy went.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  BY THE time Amy reached the foyer, the front door was wide open and sparkling, cold air was pouring into the house.

  The sound of bells could be heard, getting louder and louder.

  Amy reached the door. The children were all standing on the top step, a semicircle of faces that all had open mouths and wide eyes.

  And no wonder!

  Coming down the long driveway, covered in tinsel, was a small lorry. The shop name ‘Barkers’ could be seen beneath loops of tinsel, painted in old-fashioned lettering on the side, but it was no ordinary shop employee that climbed down from the driver’s seat.

  He was wearing a red suit with white trim and he had ridiculously bushy eyebrows and a fluffy white beard that reached his chest.

  ‘Ho, ho, ho,’ he boomed. ‘Merry Christmas!’

  He winked at the adults. ‘Sorry, I’m late. Lots of snow on the M1 last night.’

  His gaze rested for just a fraction of a second on Amy.

  Just long enough for her to know who was beneath the pillow stomach and bushy eyebrows.

  Luca!

  It was understandable that Rosa and the children didn’t recognise him, but Elaine seemed just as taken in. Because doing something like this was so out of character for the Harrington grandson and heir?

  The back door of the lorry was folding down, the recorded bells still jingling merrily.

  ‘Come,’ Father Christmas invited the children. ‘Come and see what I’ve got.’

  The children moved slowly down the steps. They stood in the driveway, staring into the back of the lorry, and the adults were not far behind.

  ‘Oh, my!’ Elaine breathed.

  Amy blinked. And blinked again. The back of this lorry was full of brightly wrapped parcels. Hundreds of them, it seemed.

  ‘I forgot my sack,’ Father Christmas said. ‘Can someone show me where the tree is and give me a hand to get them all inside?’

  Robert stepped forward and spoke in a steady, deep voice. ‘I can do that.’

  The noise could have woken the dead.

  Happy shouting. Laughter. Squeals of glee.

  The gifts were amazing. Someone—possibly many people—had been given a list of those involved. Their ages and approximate sizes and the information that they had lost most of their belongings.

  Many of the first packages contained clothes. Jeans and T-shirts and warm, fleecy jackets. Anoraks and gumboots in wonderful bright colours. Kyra’s were pink with lime-green spots.

  ‘Wow!’ she said. ‘These are way cool!’

  Henry and Elaine and Beryl watched from the library door. Amy sat on the stairs, brushing tears form her cheeks on more than one occasion. Totally unable to wipe the smile from her face.

  She was riveted by the scene. The generosity was overwhelming and the joy of the children heart-warming, but the real magic came from watching this Father Christmas. The joy he was getting, acting the part. Using Robert as his right-hand man.

  ‘You’re the chief elf!’ he boomed in that astonishingly deep, unrecognisable voice. ‘You get to find the next gift.’

  Robert was scrupulously fair, making sure everyone had their turns.

  It was Chantelle who pointed out when Robert was due for a gift. She tugged shyly at Santa’s sleeve.

  ‘It wouldn’t be fair, would it? If the chief elf got left out?’

  ‘You can be the deputy chief elf,’ Luke told her. ‘You get to find a present for Robert.’

&nbs
p; ‘How did you know all our names?’

  ‘I’m Father Christmas! I know everybody’s names.’

  Chantelle sighed happily. ‘I love you, Santa.’

  ‘I love you, too, chicken.’

  Amy’s joy overflowed and she gurgled with laughter. Father Christmas looked up and she knew he knew that she had recognised him. It was their secret and Amy could barely tear her gaze away from him as the gift distribution continued. She was waiting for each moment of connection.

  Loving him more each time.

  At one point she had to look up to blink away more tears and it was then that she saw the solitary figure standing to one side of the U at the top of the stairs, gripping the banister with one hand.

  Lady Prudence Harrington looked dishevelled. She wore a dressing-gown and her hair was unbrushed. She didn’t see Amy’s shocked glance. She was too intent on watching her grandson and the children.

  Amy saw something else, as well. Clutched beneath the old woman’s arm was the leather-bound scrapbook of Caroline’s. The knowledge that her gift had been accepted only added to the magic. Amy turned back to keep watching the seemingly endless stream of gifts.

  There were toys galore. Lovely toys, like Lego for the twins and Meccano for Andrew. Robert had a telescope and books about astronomy. There were soft toy animals for Chantelle and a hair straightener and make-up for Kyra. There were even toys for Monty. A Frisbee and flinger. Rawhide treats and a huge, soft bed.

  Rosa received perfume and chocolates and there was a beautiful mohair knee rug for Nonna. Parcels were put aside for Marcella and Summer. The massive pile of gifts was finally whittled down and the deputy elf tugged on Santa’s sleeve again, this time with more urgency.

  ‘But what about Amy?’ she demanded. ‘Where’s her present?’

  ‘Ah!’ Luke’s voice was still deep but it softened. ‘I have a very special present for Amy. It’s outside.’

  Amy caught her breath. What could it be? Robert looked up from one of his books. ‘Can we come and see it?’

  Father Christmas shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not.’