In The Venetian's Bed. Susan StephensЧитать онлайн книгу.
why don’t we walk?’ she said with exasperation.
‘Not too far by boat,’ he clarified.
Nell felt as if she was tearing up inside with frustration. She wanted to do something. Most of all, she wanted the ground to open up and swallow him, leaving Molly safe and well in her pushchair. With an angry sound she raked her hair.
‘If this is getting too much for you, I could always help you down to that ledge and you could sit down.’
Too much for her? Sit down? She couldn’t believe he was pointing to a seat cut into the rock beside the steps rubbed smooth by countless weary travellers—as if she could relax like them. ‘I’m not tired!’ She ignored his outstretched hand. The last thing she wanted to do was sit down. No, not the last thing. That had to be taking his hand. She had no intention of touching any part of him.
The black-gold gaze lingered on her face. ‘Worrying will only sap your energy.’
‘Thanks for the advice.’ Nell raked her hair again until it stood in even angrier spikes. ‘Why don’t you save the platitudes, and give my daughter back to me?’
‘Bad temper won’t help either…’
He was looking at her hair. Let him look. It perfectly mirrored her feelings. Doubtless Barbaro preferred his women to have long, silky tresses he could wind around his fist…
A siren blasted and Nell exhaled with relief. At last something was happening.
The launch painted in orange and white had Ambulanza emblazoned along the side and across the front. Moving steadily towards them, it finally slowed beside the steps.
‘Be careful when you climb on board,’ Luca Barbaro advised. ‘Leave Molly’s pushchair to one of the men. We haven’t time to deal with a second emergency.’
And then he was gone—with Molly. When she went to follow, one of the paramedics got in her way. Nell panicked, the past mocking her, reminding how they had kept her away from Jake. But then Barbaro stuck his head out of the cabin to see where she was and shouted something in Italian. She didn’t wait to work out what it was. The man moved out of the way, and she hurried on board.
The fear that she would be separated from Molly was so real Nell had to ram the past back in its box and lock it up again. She had to tell herself that this wasn’t a replay of Jake’s accident, but something entirely different, and that she had to keep a clear head if she was going to stay on top of this new nightmare.
As she ducked her head to enter the cabin she could see Luca Barbaro was already treating Molly. He was clearly in his element, moving purposefully, calmly. The men knew him and watched him confidently. Their attitude relaxed her a little.
‘Sit here, please.’ Without taking his attention from Molly, Barbaro directed her to a bench seat on the opposite side of the cabin. As far away from Molly as possible.
He’d shifted up a gear, sloughing off all the irritation she’d sensed on shore. He was delivering instructions into his phone now, as well as to the men on board, and she didn’t need to understand the language to know who was in charge, or to gather that this was a full-blown emergency and there was no time to lose.
The creeping cold that had started down her spine spread to Nell’s shoulders as she sat watching. She didn’t even know that she was shivering until Luca Barbaro turned in the middle of attending to Molly and murmured something to one of the paramedics. Then the man tossed a blanket over her shoulders and she drew it tight.
Nell watched him work with a mixture of awe and dread, all the time willing Molly to wake up. But it didn’t take long for her to lose her flimsy faith. She was stung into speech by the sight of a syringe in his hand.
‘Are you sure all this is necessary?’
‘Yes.’ He glanced over his shoulder too briefly to make eye contact.
She had only wanted him to explain what he was doing. He had checked Molly’s vital signs, listened to her chest, checked her pulse, her blood pressure, tapped her back, scrutinised her fingernails for the umpteenth time and shone a light into her eyes. And now she wanted to be with Molly, holding her…
Nell made her request the moment he straightened up.
Barbaro remained staring at Molly, waiting for signs of improvement, she guessed.
‘Not yet.’
‘When?’ But the powerful engines started up at that moment, drowning out her voice, and then the launch surged forward, fixing her in place. Nell waited until she judged it safe to move—
‘Sit down!’
The harsh command shunted ice through her veins. She speared a look of resentment at him, but at that moment the launch picked up speed, and as it thrust forward the prow lifted, tilting the deck at an extreme angle. Thrown off balance, she was forced to make a grab for one of the upright poles and cling on desperately.
Barbaro’s voice reached her over the roar of the engines. ‘Police launches and ambulances break the speed limits inside the city and we’ll be going even faster when we reach the Grand Canal. Get back to your seat and sit down now. It isn’t safe to stand up.’
Tears of frustration welled in Nell’s eyes. ‘You might have warned me.’ But Barbaro had already turned back to tend to Molly. She tried to get back to her seat, but the launch hit another boat’s wake and lurched unexpectedly.
Nell finally staggered back to her seat, where the weight of emotion pinned her in place. Terror made her want to cry, to sob hysterically and shout out: why? Why Molly? The emotion building in her throat, in her chest was nearly choking her. She guessed that everyone on board would be used to emotional incontinence—all the more reason not to give way to it. She would hold herself in check—do whatever it took not to distract them from treating Molly. Her chest was heaving convulsively, but she made herself calm down. Then at last Dr Barbaro stood back and she could see Molly clearly.
Nell paled. There were so many tubes and wires connected to Molly’s tiny frame. She stared up fearfully, trying to read Luca Barbaro’s face, his eyes…She was so hungry for information. Why didn’t he say something to her?
‘Can I sit with Molly now?’ Her voice was small. ‘Can I hold her?’
‘You might dislodge the drip.’
The drip? She hadn’t noticed it before, but now she did. It was suspended above Molly like an abomination. ‘I wouldn’t—’ Nell’s throat seemed to be caught in a vice. ‘Does she need that?’
‘It’s used for rehydration, and we’re giving antibiotics too, as a precaution.’
Nell frowned. ‘You don’t know what’s wrong with my daughter but you’re pumping her full of drugs?’
‘I consider it necessary.’
‘And what’s that machine?’ She wanted to know. She wanted to know everything. She wanted to drive him, drive him hard. How else was she to find out what was going on? How else was she going to let him know she was there for Molly?
‘A nebuliser. It delivers the medicine in a fine mist so the patient can breathe it in without it disturbing them.’
‘Without it disturbing them?’ Nell shuddered as she stared at the mask on Molly’s face, the coarse green elastic binding her fine baby hair to her moist skin. The noise from the machine was enough to disturb anyone. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? Nothing was going to disturb Molly; nothing could disturb her while she was in this condition.
The sooner they arrived at the hospital the sooner she could breathe easily again, Nell realised. Or maybe not even then. Maybe this man was representative of the type of cold-hearted individual she was going to find there. Something inside her said, if she could just touch Molly, give her love…
‘I won’t disturb her, and I won’t pull