The Italian Girl by Lucinda Riley Read Free Book Online Page B

we are over. Forever.’
    ‘But why? What have you done?’
    Carlotta turned her head away from her mother and began to sob.
    Sighing, Antonia heaved herself from the bed. ‘Get some rest, Carlotta. We’ll talk later.’
    Rosanna was surprised to find a small lump in her bed when she returned home from choir practice that evening. Her niece, Ella, was fast asleep in it, so she left the bedroom quietly and walked along the narrow corridor to the sitting room. The door was closed but she could hear her parents talking.
    ‘I don’t know what has happened, Marco. She won’t say anything. She’s downstairs now talking to Luca. Maybe he can get some sense out of her. I’ve tried calling Giulio at their apartment, but there’s no reply.’
    ‘She must return to her husband, of course. It’s where she belongs. I will tell her that.’ Marco sounded furious.
    ‘Please, leave her alone tonight. She’s distraught,’ Antonia pleaded.
    Rosanna pushed the door open. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked.
    ‘Your sister has left her husband and she and Ella will be staying here for a few days. You, Rosanna, can sleep in here on the sofa.’ Antonia’s breath was coming in short, sharp bursts. She stood up slowly.
    ‘Are you all right, Mamma?’ Rosanna said, going towards her.
    ‘I . . . I’m fine.’ Antonia stood, staggering a little as she regained her balance. ‘I must go downstairs. I need some air.’ She fanned herself violently as she lumbered from the room.
    ‘Papa, why has Carlotta left Giulio? I—’
    There was a sudden heavy thump from the stairs.
    Marco and Rosanna rushed out of the sitting room together and into the corridor. They saw Antonia lying at the bottom of the stairs leading to the café.
    ‘ Mamma mia! Antonia! Antonia!’ Marco hurried down the stairs to his wife’s prone body and knelt by it, Rosanna following close behind him.
    ‘Run for the doctor, quickly!’ her father screamed at her. ‘Get Luca and Carlotta.’
    Rosanna hurried through the deserted café and into the kitchen. Luca was standing with his arms round Carlotta, comforting her as she sobbed on his shoulder.
    ‘Hurry! Mamma’s collapsed on the stairs! I’m going for the doctor!’ Rosanna called before she opened the door and ran off along the cobbled street.
    Carlotta and Luca found Antonia lying on the stairs, her head thrown back onto the tiled floor at the bottom. There was blood seeping from a wound underneath her thick hair and her skin was grey, her eyes partially open. Carlotta knelt down next to her and searched for a pulse.
    ‘Is she . . . ?’ Marco, standing over his wife, could not finish the sentence. ‘Let us try to at least make her more comfortable,’ suggested Luca desperately.
    Father and son managed to half-carry, half-drag Antonia off the stairs and into the café while Carlotta fetched a pillow for her head.
    Rosanna returned with the doctor an agonising fifteen minutes later.
    ‘Please tell me she is not gone. Not my Antonia, not my wife,’ Marco moaned. ‘Please save her, doctor.’
    Luca, Carlotta and Rosanna watched in silence as the doctor listened through his stethoscope to Antonia’s heart, then felt her pulse. When he looked up, they all saw the answer in his eyes.
    ‘I’m so sorry, Marco,’ the doctor said, shaking his head. ‘I believe Antonia has suffered a heart attack. There’s nothing more we can do for her now. We must send for don Carlo immediately.’
    ‘The priest!’ Marco stared at the doctor in disbelief, then knelt down and buried his face in Antonia’s lifeless shoulder. He began to cry. ‘I am nothing, nothing without her. Oh amore mio , my love, my love . . .’
    The three children looked on silently, each one of them in shock, unable to move.
    The doctor packed his stethoscope back into his bag and stood up. ‘Rosanna, go and fetch Don Carlo. We will stay here and make your mamma ready.’
    Rosanna gave a whimper, then, clenching her fists to stop herself