AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The ambulance pulled in, all flashing lights and efficiency, and the
paramedics took over, forcing him into retreat.
'Timmie!' Holly exclaimed in panic as she was moved onto the stretcher.
Rio strode forward. 'I'll follow you to the hospital with him-'
Holly realised that he was asking her to trust him with her son. 'I
don't know you-'
'But we know him.' For some reason, the paramedic who had spoken
chuckled with decided amusement. 'Don't worry, love. Your kid will be
safe as houses with this gentleman.'
Exhausted by the effort she had expended, and trembling, Holly mumbled
her agreement.
As the ambulance drove off Ezio passed his employer his jacket and said,
'We've got the name and address of a witness and we should make a
statement to the police just to be on the safe side.'
'Per meraviglia...' Somewhat bemused at the offer he had found himself
making to placate the girl's fear on her child's behalf, Rio strode over
to stare down into the buggy.
In the nest of bedding and beneath the bobble-topped woolly hat, all
that could be seen was a pair of big, scared blue eyes full of tearful
anxiety and a tiny upturned pink nose. 'You see to the statement. I'll
take...Timmie the timid to the hospital-'
'I could take care of that and the statement,' the older man pointed out
quietly. 'You haven't slept more than a hour since you left New York.'
Nor had he been planning to sleep for what remained of the night, Rio
recalled, his strong jawline clenching hard as he registered that he had
contrived to momentarily forget the climax of his unannounced visit to
Christabel. Closing his mind to that grim awareness, he stooped to
remove the baby from its concealing layers of bedding. Timmie emerged
rigid as a stick of rock, if possible his fearful eyes growing even
larger to encompass the tall, dark, powerful man cradling him with
surprising dexterity.
'I'm a push-over for babies...especially scared ones.' Climbing into the
limo, Rio watched as the rest of the baby's possessions were piled in,
including the two worn carrier bags, one of which spilled over and let a
feeding bottle roll out.
Timmie let out a squeal and stretched out a hopeful hand in the
direction of the bottle, little feet kicking with eagerness.
'You're hungry...OK.' Rio rooted through the bags and discovered a
packet of baby rusks but nothing of a liquid persuasion. Timmie wasn't
picky. He had no manners either. He snatched at the rusk and lodged his
two tiny front teeth into it, got them stuck and then let out a mournful
wail.
Rio was kept fully occupied all the way to the hospital. He discovered
that affectionately dandling one of his friend's babies while a fond
mother hovered within reach
18
to take care of all the necessities was a far different affair from
actually trying to handle a real live squirming and complaining baby all
on his own. With the aid of a glass tumbler and a bottle of mineral
water from the built-in bar, however, he managed to quench Timmie's
thirst-but not without soaking Timmie and himself into the bargain.
He emerged from the limo at the entrance to the hospital looking
something less than his usual sartorially splendid self, with rusk
crumbs scattered all over him and clinging to the damp patches. He was
also for the first time feeling the effects of too little sleep on top
of a severe attack of jet lag.
Ezio attempted to relieve his employer of his baby burden but Timmie
wasn't impressed and lodged two frantic hands in Rio's hair and screamed
in naked panic.
'If you don't smile at him, he doesn't like you,' Rio shared wearily,
rearranging Timmie in a somewhat unconventional drape over one broad
shoulder, where the baby hung like a limp but relaxed sack, one large
masculine hand pinned to his spine. 'He's a real little bag of nerves.'
Greeted like visiting royalty by the receptionist, Rio was ushered into
his friend's comfortable private office to wait and a nurse arrived at
speed to remove Timmie.
'He needs to be fed...and other things,' Rio warned, wincing as Timmie
tried to cling to his protector and then bawled blue murder at being
detached from him. The high note of fear he could hear in the baby's cry
was traumatic to listen to, Rio reflected, riven with discomfiture at
the child's distress.
It was an hour before John Coulter, the senior physician at the
hospital, came to join him and report back on his most recent patient.
'I think you just saved a life tonight, Rio,' the older man announced in
his usual cheerful manner. 'That young woman is suffering from the early
stages of hypothermia. Falling in front of your car was the best thing
that could've happened to her. She and that child might have been dead
by morning-'
'I noticed she had no coat on, but presumably she would've made it home
before hypothermia got a grip on her,' Rio slotted in, his tone one of
casual dismissal.
'But she was planning to spend the night walking round the
streets...she's homeless, didn't you realise that?'
Rio frowned in surprise.
'I'll have to call in the duty social worker. I'll feel a heel doing it,
though,' Dr Coulter confided ruefully. 'She's terrified that her baby
will be put in care, and even though that is very unlikely, as Social
Services work to keep mother and child together, I wasn't able to
convince her of that.'
'How are they?'
"The baby's in fine fettle. But the mother's another matter... skin and
bone, needs feeding up and looking after, but there's no sign of drug or
alcohol abuse, which is something in her favour. That accent
too...deepest Somerset,' the older man remarked with a wry smile.
'Somerset?'
'Cider with Rosie and all that,' John Coulter quipped, referring to the
classic book set in a rural area. 'Although, come to think of it, that
wasn't Somerset. I think it's based on Gloucestershire-'
'John,' Rio groaned. 'Never mind the book.'
The older man sighed. 'Holly's a country girl and hasn't a clue how to
go on in a city like London. I imagine that's why she's in such a fix-'
'Holly? That's her name? Can I see her?'
'This is your hospita
l-'
20
'It belongs to the Lombardi Foundation, not to me personally,' Rio said
drily.
Holly lay in her comfortable bed, scanning the elegant and luxurious
layout of her private room and feeling as though she had dreamt it all
up. But no, Timmie lay just feet away in the cot that had been provided.
The kindly nurse had rustled up a proper feed for him, changed him and
tucked him in. Her son was asleep now, snug and secure with a full
tummy. Her eyes prickled with weak tears of shame over her own
inadequacy. Timmie had a right to be snug and secure all the time.
The obvious solution to their predicament had been staring her in the
face for many weeks now but she had been too much of a coward to
confront it. She was not scared of social workers but she was scared of
being made to look head-on at her own failings when set next to Timmie's
needs. Timmie had to come first. She had been horribly selfish. What
kind of mother love put a baby on the streets in the middle of the
night? She was twenty years old, and she might have left school early
but she was not stupid. She knew right from wrong and she was finally
accepting that all along her mother had known exactly what she was
talking about...
'If you give the baby up for adoption you can come home to us
afterwards,' her mother had promised with red-rimmed eyes full of strain
