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His sapphire eyes grew shuttered. ‘Must you?’
But Nicola was already pulling the phone from her handbag, her skin growing clammy as a picture of Jago flashed up and she saw the alert at the top of the screen. Four missed calls from Stacey.
‘I’ve got to answer this,’ she blurted out, rising to her feet and stumbling from the room, barely aware of the waiter she almost cannoned into, who narrowly avoided dropping a tray of cocktails. But the call had ended by the time she reached the restaurant foyer and when Nicola jabbed the ‘return call’ button, Stacey picked up immediately, her voice incomprehensible through the sound of Jago crying in the background.
‘What’s happening?’ Nicola sucked in a breath. ‘Is Jago okay?’
‘I’m a bit worried, Nic. He’s breathing a bit fast and won’t take his bottle, and he’s—’
Her words were interrupted by a snuffly wail and Nicola thought very quickly. It could be something or it could be nothing, but was it really a risk worth taking? And didn’t Stacey need all the support she could get right now? ‘I’m coming over,’ she said. ‘If you’re really worried then call an ambulance, but if I jump in a cab I can be there in twenty minutes.’
‘I’ll wait,’ said Stacey, her voice filled with gratitude.
With trembling fingers Nicola cut the connection and looked up to see Alessio standing in front of her in the restaurant foyer, his face shadowed and grave.
‘I have to go!’
‘I heard. My car will take you. You can tell me what’s happening on the way.’
Nicola opened her mouth then shut it again as his car pulled up outside the restaurant, because only a fool would refuse his offer of assistance. All the barriers she had previously erected to keep him out of her life seemed irrelevant now as she nodded her head. Stumbling out the address, she was barely aware of the limousine door slamming shut, or the speed at which Alessio’s chauffeur negotiated London’s narrow side streets.
‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on?’ Alessio demanded urgently.
‘Jago won’t take his bottle.’ Nervously, her fingers played with the thin gold chain at her neck. ‘He’s all snuffly and I can tell Stacey’s worried. If she needs to take him to hospital, it’s much better if she has someone with her.’
He frowned. ‘Isn’t your brother with her?’
‘No. My brother...’ And suddenly the words just came blurting out. ‘My brother’s in jail!’ She saw his lips flatten as he took out his phone and began punching out a number. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Calling a friend who’s a paediatrician.’
‘I don’t—’
Imperiously holding up his hand for silence, he began to speak but Nicola barely registered a word he said, she was just wishing they would get there. Before too long the car was drawing up outside the flat and she was running upstairs and Stacey was letting her in, the baby cradled against one shoulder.
‘Here. Let’s put him on the sofa and have a look at him,’ said Nicola.
She laid him down carefully, her heart contracting as she observed the rapid rise and fall of his tiny chest, and she was just about to phone an ambulance when the door opened and Alessio walked in, accompanied by a tall and incredibly good-looking man wearing motorcycle leathers and carrying a bag.
‘What’s going on?’ demanded Stacey. ‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Alessio di Bari, a friend of Nicola’s, and this is Harrison Drake, a friend ofmineand one of the finest paediatricians in the country.’
At this, Stacey began to tremble. ‘Just help my baby, will you? Please.’ The urgency of her plea plunged the room into silence save for the sound of little Jago’s breathing as the doctor began to examine him.
Nicola watched as Harrison gently unbuttoned the infant’s sleepsuit and listened to his chest with a stethoscope, all the while directing a stream of questions at Stacey. At last, he straightened up, and nodded.
‘He’s got a mild dose of bronchiolitis, which is very common in young babies. You need to monitor him throughout the night and make sure you feed him less, but more often. I’ve got some nasal saline drops in my bag—you can give him those and they should help. If his breathing gets faster or more laboured then you should take him to hospital, but I think he’s going to be fine.’
Close to tears, Stacey thanked the paediatrician and Nicola realised that sometimes just the positive words of a healthcare professional could be enough to reassure you when you were young and inexperienced. She helped Stacey prepare a bottle for Jago, dimly aware of Alessio leaving the tiny apartment to accompany the doctor downstairs and it came almost as a shock when he returned. Had she thought that would be the last she ever saw of him? That he’d be frightened off by all the chaos and the poverty he had witnessed? Yes, she had. He stood silently in the doorway as she cradled her tiny nephew and suddenly she felt acutely self-conscious about the way he was watching her.
‘Thanks for that,’ she said at last, laying the now-sleeping baby into his cot and straightening up. ‘Your friend was brilliant.’
She wondered if he’d heard her because he didn’t reply but then she realised he was looking round the apartment. And suddenly Nicola saw it through his eyes. The open pack of disposable nappies next to the TV, and the line of tiny sleepsuits drying on the radiator. Three dirty cups were sitting on the paper-strewn coffee table, along with the remains of a cheese sandwich. Why was Stacey sountidy? she found herself thinking.
He turned then and Nicola almost recoiled from the expression on his face, because Alessio had never looked at her like this before, not even at the beginning. His features looked as if they had been carved from some obsidian marble and his blue eyes were shuttered and cold. He was only on the other side of the small room, but he seemed so far away that he might have been on another planet. Was hejudgingthem?
‘I’m going to stay here with Jago and Stacey tonight,’ she said, offering an explanation he hadn’t asked for.
