The Italian Surgeon Claims His Bride. Alison Roberts

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СКАЧАТЬ The simple word spoken simultaneously by both women carried a weight of pride.

      ‘Paolo’s my son,’ Maria added. ‘My only child. My only family in this country. Sadly, his father passed away three years ago. We—’

      ‘Paul was married to my only child,’ Louise interrupted. ‘My daughter Gwendolyn. Tragically, she experienced massive complications from an embolism following the Caesarean needed for Danielle’s birth and…and she died when Danielle was only three hours old.’

      Louise looked away, struggling for control, and Maria tutted sympathetically, murmuring something soothing in Italian as she reached out again, this time to pat her companion’s arm. Jenna couldn’t help warming to them both.

      ‘I’m very sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘It must have been a dreadful time for you.’

      Louise rallied. ‘Paul was devastated, of course. He still hasn’t come to terms with losing Gwen, and having Danielle doesn’t help.’

      ‘Oh?’ This was puzzling. Surely having a child, a living part of someone you had loved, would be the greatest comfort possible? A man with the intelligence necessary to become such a renowned surgeon couldn’t blame the infant for her mother’s death or had his love for his wife been such that any reminder could only keep the grief alive?

      ‘Paolo moved home so that I could help with raising Ella,’ Maria said.

      So this house belonged to the Romano family. Maybe Louise was not a key player after all.

      ‘And I moved to Christchurch.’ Louise made it sound as though she was sacrificing more on behalf of her grandaughter. ‘Although I would have been—still am—more than happy to take on the full responsibility of raising Danielle.’

      The full responsibility? Did the father not have anything to do with his daughter? Were these two grandparents fighting over custody? No wonder there was an odd feel to this household. Doubts about the advisability of working here re-surfaced and must have shown on her face.

      ‘It’s not that he doesn’t love Ella,’ Maria said hurriedly. ‘It’s just that it’s been difficult for him. He’s always being terribly conscientious about his work and it became an escape for him to put more and more into his career in terms of hours. He’s not at home very much.’

      ‘It would be a demanding job.’ Jenna looked back at Danielle, who was now busy removing her shoes. ‘It’s lucky that you are both able to help.’

      ‘As if I’d do anything else.’ Louise sounded faintly outraged. ‘Danielle is all I have left of my precious daughter. My only child.’

      ‘Paolo was an only child, too,’ Maria reminded her. She waved her hand apologetically at Jenna. ‘Louise and I are both widows,’ she added, as though that explained everything.

      Which it did to some extent. This baby was very important to them both as the sole member of the next generation of their families. Jenna was aware of how close Italian families were so Louise must be very determined to keep her stake in Danielle’s upbringing.

      They were both determined and, for some reason, in competition with each other.

      Interpersonal politics could detract from any job. Condensed into an intimate domestic situation that encompassed inevitable cultural differences and included an outsider such as herself could make a working environment intolerable. The warning bells were ringing loud and clear for Jenna.

      So did the cry from Danielle. Maria stood up immediately and went to the playpen. The baby held up her arms and Jenna could see it wasn’t easy for the older woman to pick her up.

      ‘Oh, dear, you’re very wet, aren’t you?’ Maria cuddled the baby. ‘You need a clean nappy, cara.’

      ‘I’ll do it.’ With smooth grace, Louise rose and took the baby, allowing no time for protest. ‘You may as well show Jennifer the flat.’

      May as well? Was she going to be allowed to view living quarters she wasn’t going to be using just to fill in time while Danielle was having her nappy changed?

      ‘Yes, of course!’ Maria seemed eager to comply. ‘Come with me, Jenna.’

      Reluctantly, Jenna followed Maria. The self-contained flat was attached to the vast old house through a short passageway that was accessed through a large, gleaming kitchen. Yet another older woman was busy near the sink. She glanced up curiously as Maria led Jenna across the tiled floor.

      ‘This is Jenna,’ Maria said. ‘I’m going to show her the flat. I hope she might be joining us to help look after Ella. Jenna, this is Shirley. She helps me in the house. You wouldn’t be expected to take on cleaning duties, which I know are expected of some nannies. Or cooking. I love to cook. I teach Italian cookery at the evening classes.’

      Shirley gave Jenna an up-and-down glance and clearly liked what she saw. ‘You’ll like the flat,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘Would you like a cup of coffee when you’re done?’

      ‘Maybe later,’ Maria said. ‘When Paolo gets home.’ She seemed keen to usher Jenna through the door of what must have originally been servants’ quarters.

      It had clearly been upgraded considerably. The sitting room was tiny but tastefully decorated and it contained a television, music system and well-stocked bookshelf. The bedroom looked comfortable and there was a sparkling bathroom and a small kitchen area with a microwave and facilities for making tea and coffee.

      ‘You would have complete access to the kitchen, of course. And the laundry,’ Maria said. ‘There’s a—what do you call them? The baby-radio thing?’

      ‘A baby monitor?’

      ‘Yes, thank you. Ella can sometimes be hard to get to sleep but when she is sleeping, she doesn’t wake often at night.’ Maria raised her eyebrows. ‘What do you think?’

      Shirley hadn’t been mistaken. ‘It’s a lovely flat,’ Jenna said sincerely.

      ‘Do you think you might like to take the position?’

      ‘Ah…’ Jenna let her doubts show. ‘Can I ask how you’ve been managing up till now?’

      ‘We had a nanny. She left two days ago. Louise didn’t…ah…find her suitable. There was an argument and…’ The shrug was eloquent. It suggested that falling out with Louise was a terminal condition.

      ‘Mrs Gibbs obviously doesn’t think I’m particularly suitable either.’

      ‘It is not just her decision. It is Paolo who has the final say.’ But Maria sighed. She cast a glance over her shoulder at the door she had closed behind them. ‘Louise is very protective of Ella,’ she said. ‘And of Gwendolyn’s memory. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but she thinks that any woman who comes into the household is going to…um…’

      ‘Make a play for Danielle’s father?’ Jenna supplied helpfully. Hardly a suggestion from left field, given the attractions obvious in that wedding photo. Judging by this house, he had a very wealthy background. His fame as a surgeon was another hefty drawcard and his Mediterranean background would be the icing on the cake for some women.

      Maria was nodding unhappily. ‘Ridiculous, СКАЧАТЬ