LITMIR.BIZ

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      ORLA COULD NOT suck enough air into her lungs to kill the terror clawing at her as they approached Tonino’s parents. Never minding Finn’s conception and the end of the future marriage with their dream daughter-in-law, they were both powerful people. What on earth were they going to think of a little minnow like her?

      The terror only evaporated when Angelica and Paolo Valente both pulled her into tight embraces and smothered her cheeks with kisses.

      Who needed to speak a common language when body language so perfectly conveyed meaning? she thought dazedly.

      The language barrier was much less a problem when Tonino introduced her to his brother and sister-in-law, both of whom spoke good English and embraced her with equal vigour.

      However, the language barrier was the last thing to cross her mind when she was introduced to his sister. Orla recognised her instantly. Giulia Valente, barely a month after giving birth to her third child, looked as young and beautiful as she’d done in the photograph Orla had seen of her and Tonino in the Internet search that had caused Finn to kick her so memorably hard.

      What had happened after she’d seen that photo? She knew it was important but, as had been the case for over three years, trying to force a memory only pushed it further into the shadows.

      With whispered thanks, she accepted a glass of lemonade made from the fruit of the Valentes’ lemon grove and slowly relaxed. Tonino’s family were wonderfully hospitable. Here, at the customary party Angelica and Paolo always threw to celebrate the birth of a new grandchild—something it seemed, as the entire family had assured her, would be done for Finn too—was all Tonino’s extended family, all his aunts, uncles, grandparents, the multitude of first and second cousins… It sent a pang through her to witness the closeness they all shared. Orla’s family was of comparable size, but they had little day-to-day involvement in each other’s lives. Not a single one of them had visited her or Finn in hospital or offered to help share the load Aislin had taken in caring for them. This Sicilian lot, she thought, would pack the hospital out if one of their own fell ill.

      A silent tour of the villa led by Angelica herself, who held Orla’s hand throughout, took her breath away. It matched Tonino’s for size and elegance but with added homeliness.

      If she moved in with Tonino, she would have to have a chat with him about feminising the chateau a little.

       If…?

      Surely the operative word now was ‘when’. Because as the day went on, her indecision evaporated just as her terror had done.

      She had to put her own feelings to one side and think of Finn. Sicily was the best place for him to be raised. Just look at all these people fussing over him! These people were his family and they would never let him down or abandon him. If she moved in with Tonino they would have Aislin living close to them, and Dante too.

      She wouldn’t be alone as she was in Ireland.

      After the tour, she sat with Angelica on a garden bench waiting for Tonino to return from giving Finn his own tour of the villa.

      As neither woman spoke the other’s language, they didn’t converse and yet there was something companionable and protective about the way Angelica positioned herself. She had an innate glamour similar to Dante’s mother but if she’d had any work on her beautiful features, it was as subtle as subtle could be. She wore her intelligence much more freely.

      A shout from the villa made them both get to their feet to see what the commotion was about.

      A moment later, one of Tonino’s nieces came flying out of the villa and raced straight to Orla, tugging her hand. Orla didn’t need to speak Sicilian to know the young girl was begging her to come with her. Distress was its own universal language.

      Call it sixth sense, call it mother’s intuition, but she knew immediately what was happening and what she would find, and, clinging to the young girl’s hand, she ran inside.

      Finn was on the floor of the living room, Tonino crouched beside him, a crowd of young children surrounding him. His tiny body was rigid, convulsions racking him.

      ‘Everyone stand back,’ she barked, immediately hitting autopilot.

      But, of course, they didn’t understand her.

      A visibly distressed Tonino blinked then barked what she assumed was the same order in Sicilian. The circle around her convulsing child parted, leaving only Tonino.

      ‘You need to stand back too,’ Orla ordered. There was no time for pleasantries.

      Dark colour stained his clenched features but he did as she asked.

      Sinking to her knees, Orla carefully moved Finn onto his side and placed her hand on his tiny head. His arms jerked, his legs thrashed but it was his eyes she always found the most terrifying. They stared wide open but didn’t see.

      Tonino had never felt so useless in his life. Or as scared. His heart had stuck in his throat the moment he’d seen his son topple from his sitting position on the floor of the living room where Tonino had put him so he could play with his cousins. His body had gone into spasm with the movements Tonino had seen on videos when learning all he could about his son’s condition.

      The sounds that had come from his son’s poor throat…

      Those were sounds that would haunt him.

      Thank God for Orla.

      All she did was sit beside their son and stroke his hair and whisper soothing words, but it acted like magic. There was not one person in that room who didn’t feel it too.

      Tonino had no idea if Finn heard his mother’s voice or saw her face until the convulsions began to subside, but he was as certain as he could be that his son felt her presence even if only on a subconscious level. When his eyes slowly regained their focus, they stayed on Orla; he was clearly frightened but taking every ounce of comfort he could from his mummy.

      It struck Tonino that she only knew what to do and could handle it so calmly because she had lived it many times before.

      And it struck him too that she had pushed him aside because she didn’t trust him to handle the situation and look after their son.

      The harsh truth was that Orla would never trust him.