‘Let’s put something on and go under the covers, then,’ he said, rescuing their clothes from the floor. Safely back in bed, they drew up sheets and blankets. There was so little room that they had to huddle together, lest one of them fall out, but they didn’t mind that.

‘I can never be sorry,’ he whispered after a while. ‘But-’

‘No,’ she said, laying her fingers over his mouth. ‘No buts. I forbid it.’

‘Going to be a bullying wife, huh?’

‘If you force me.’

‘You’re so reckless that I admire you for it, even while it scares me. Suppose I die and leave you with a child? Have you thought of that?’

‘You talk of me having a baby as though it were the worst thing that could happen, but it wouldn’t be. At least I’d have part of you left.’

‘Where do you get your courage from?’ he asked tenderly.

‘From you.’

‘And if I’m no longer there?’

‘The same answer. I’ll still get my courage from you. You’ll always be there, with me. But don’t talk of that. I’m not going to be gloomy tonight. There’s too much to be happy about. You’re not going to die.’

‘My darling-’

‘You’re not. I won’t allow it. Do you think he is stronger than me?’

‘Nobody is stronger than you,’ he said fervently.

Dreams. Fantasies. The real world was still out there, still deadly. But she would fight it. She let her thoughts range free, seeking something light to bear her up, and at last a soft choke of laughter broke from her.

‘What is it?’ he asked, almost alarmed. ‘What the devil is funny about this?’

‘To think I accused you of always shouting. It was me doing the shouting this time. I had to or you wouldn’t have listened. I’ll remember that in future. Shout your husband down. If he won’t shut up, at least you’ll make a great noise together.’

Laughter welled up inside him, threatening to break out in a roar that would wake the house. Instead he buried his face against her in an agony of bittersweet joy, and laughed and laughed until he wept.

As the morning light grew, Liza came along the corridor and slipped noiselessly into Holly’s room. Finding nobody there, she went to the inner door and opened it cautiously.

Looking around the edge, she saw the narrow bed, and the two who lay there sleeping, arms wrapped about each other in perfect contentment.

She crept away, smiling to herself.

CHAPTER TWELVE

NOTHING in Holly’s life recently had been what she would have once called normal, so the strangeness of the next few weeks was merely another kind of unreality.

It had its own intense sweetness. The closeness she shared with Matteo was past naming. It might have been love, but they never spoke the word, by night or day. When there were others around they maintained a friendly demeanour, full of propriety but no passion. At night they would go wordlessly into each other’s arms, sharing the joy of mutual need and fulfilment. Afterwards they would sink into the sleep of the blessed.

But hanging over this was the ever-present danger. Time passed without the police tracking down their quarry. He was nowhere. He was everywhere.

She would see Matteo off in the morning knowing that she might never see him again, and welcome him home in the evening, knowing that it might be for the last time.

The house was under permanent guard, although for Liza’s sake the men didn’t wear uniforms, and could have been gardeners. When the time came for her to go to school Matteo hired tutors so that she needed not leave the house. Between her lessons, visits from the physiotherapist and her time with Holly, she was content.

Her condition was improving, although she still had to take a nap in the afternoons. Often she argued, but Holly would hold firm, except for once when she allowed the child to stay up and finish a book that had seized her imagination. But the next day Liza seemed sleepy, and made no protest about going to bed for an hour.

Holly took the chance of a nap herself. She had had almost no sleep the night before.

She awoke to find Anna shaking her.

‘The little girl isn’t well,’ she said anxiously. ‘She’s just been sick.’

She raced into Liza’s room and found her sitting up, being comforted by a maid, who’d removed the soiled dress. The child was weeping.

‘Hello, darling,’ Holly said as cheerfully as possible. ‘Let’s see what’s wrong with you.’

‘My head aches,’ Liza complained.

Gently Holly laid her hand on her forehead, startled by what she found there. Liza’s temperature had climbed to an alarming height, and she was trying to cover her eyes.

‘Piccina, look at me,’ Holly urged.

‘No, my eyes hurt,’ Liza choked.

‘All right, don’t worry,’ she said. ‘Everything is going to be all right.’

Outside the door she spoke urgently to Anna. ‘I need the family doctor. Please call him and tell him to come quickly.’

The doctor, an elderly man who had treated the family for years, was there in half an hour. He looked grave as he took Liza’s temperature and looked at her flushed, tearful face.

When they’d left the room Holly said, ‘A friend of my mother had a child who suffered like this. It was meningitis.’

‘That’s what I think, too. She must go to hospital at once. I’ll arrange the ambulance to take her to San Piero.’

He made the call while Holly went out to find one of the police guards and explain the situation. The man looked worried.

‘Is it really necessary to move her?’ he asked.

‘It wouldn’t be safe not to,’ Holly told him tensely.

Matteo had left her with a special phone number for the court, to be used only in emergencies. There was still an hour left before the sitting ended for the day. She dialled the number and spoke to Matteo’s clerk.

‘Please tell him that his daughter is seriously ill with possible meningitis, and has been taken to San Piero,’ she said tersely.

The ambulance was there fast, and within a few minutes they were on the road, streaming along the Appian Way to Rome. Holly stayed beside Liza, trying to hold her attention, but not succeeding. The little girl’s eyes were glazed, her breath came in gasps, and although she seemed to look directly at Holly it was plain that she didn’t know she was there.

‘Hold on, darling,’ Holly urged. ‘Just a little further. And Poppa…’

She was going to say that Poppa would be with them soon, but suddenly the words wouldn’t come. Would he really stop work for this child who had lost her place in his heart? The answer should be, Of course he would, but, to her horror, she realised that she wasn’t sure.

It made no difference, she realised. Liza was beyond hearing. If her father was to let her down now, she might never even know.

‘No,’ Holly said frantically. ‘Darling, wake up. It’s going to be all right.’

But the only answer was Liza’s harsh breathing.

‘He’ll be at the hospital,’ Holly assured herself. ‘He hasn’t so far to travel. He’ll get there before us.’

To her relief they were turning through the main gates of the hospital. The ambulance rear doors swung open and she hastened to move out of the way of the nurses. In moments Liza was on a trolley being wheeled inside.

There was no sign of Matteo in Reception and when she asked at the desk, nobody had seen him.

Then she had no time to think of anything but Liza as she was whisked away for tests by grave-faced medical staff. A nurse asked for details.

‘She was fine this morning,’ Holly said wretchedly. ‘A little less lively than usual but I thought she’d missed out on sleep. If only-’

‘It comes on very swiftly,’ the nurse said. ‘Often there’s nothing to warn anyone until the last moment.’

‘She had a nap and when she woke up she was sick…her head hurt.’

‘Her father-’

‘I’ve left a message for him.’

But why isn’t he here? she thought. It doesn’t take so long to get here from the court, if he left at once.

If he left at once.

But did he? Did he remember that she was not his child, and so bring the blank down over his feelings? Did he wait until the last minute, calling it his duty?

At the thought, a desolate wind seemed to sweep over her heart. In the short, precious time allowed them they had discovered so much happiness that it was painful to think of the little girl kept on the outside. Sometimes she had a wretched feeling that if Matteo couldn’t learn to accept Liza completely, then her own love for him would always remain incomplete, and perhaps would not last.

But he would be here any moment. She was sure of it.

Things began to move quickly. The doctor, who knew Liza from her last time in the hospital, confronted Holly with the final diagnosis.

‘Bacterial meningitis,’ he said with quiet gravity. ‘Which, I’m afraid, means that it’s very bad. I’m going to put her on intravenous injections of antibiotics to combat the infection. You too will need antibiotics in case you have contracted it from her, also her father.’

There was a question in his voice and Holly was forced to say, ‘He will be here soon. I sent a message.’

‘I hope you stressed the urgency because…’ he hesitated before saying slowly, ‘things could turn very bleak indeed, very soon.’

She nodded, sick at heart.

Matteo would not be here-at least, not in time. Liza would die without the comfort of his love, and her own love for him would wither away.

But she couldn’t think too much about that now. Whatever misery might wait in the future, only Liza mattered at this moment.

When she was allowed to see her again she found the little girl lying still, attached to machines, her face dangerously flushed. Holly touched her hand lightly, but there was no response.

Would there ever be one? Holly wondered. Or would she die without knowing that her father had finally turned his back on her?