The Italian Surgeon's Christmas Miracle by Alison Roberts Read Free Book Online

in the kitchen. Pulled by something he couldn’t—or didn’t want to—identify.
    One photograph stood out from the rest. In pride of place maybe, at the top left-hand corner. Or maybe it looked different because it was older. Curled at the edges. The hairs on the back of Luke’s neck prickled as he stepped closer, however. What, in God’s name, was a photograph of himself doing in this man’s room?
    It wasn’t him. Of course it wasn’t. The explanation was genetic. This was a picture of his father taken more than thirty years ago when he had looked extraordinarily like Luke did now.
    The gorgeous blonde woman in the photograph was just as easily recognisable. Caroline Harrington had been frozen in time and had always looked like this as far as Luke had known. Except there was a difference here. Compared to the studio portraits Grandmother had in plenty, this was just a candid shot. The focus wasn’t perfect and the colours had faded. What was even more different was his mother’s expression.
    Sheer joy radiated from her face as she looked up at the man beside her.
    Even the baby in her arms seemed to be laughing. Tiny fists punched the air in an exuberance of happiness. Luke had never seen a photograph of himself as a baby. For a long, long moment, he simply stood there. Staring.
    Shocked.
    Faintly, the sound of feet running down the stairs and Amy’s voice filtered through the haze.
    ‘I’ll be back up in a minute,’ Amy was calling. ‘I just need to talk to Mr Harrington before he goes home.’
    There was no time to try and analyse any of the odd, unsettling emotions Luke was experiencing. And there was no point, was there? It was all in the past and best forgotten. Destroying the evidence would make it all so much simpler.
    Without really thinking about what he was doing, Luke tugged the photograph free of the mirror and slipped it into his coat pocket. He flicked the light off as he left the room and strode back towards the kitchen. The sooner he left this house the better.
    All he had to do was make sure Amy understood that the same applied to her.
     
    Amy wound a rubber band around the end of the sleek French plait taming her hair that she had accomplished before hauling the twins from the bath and getting them dry and into their pyjamas. She changed into the tunic top and trousers of her uniform as the boys scrambled into the bunk beds in the room they shared with Robert and Andrew. She laced comfortable shoes onto her feet as she sat on the end of the trundle bed in her room where Summer was now tucked up.
    The bedroom oxygen cylinder was full and the coal fire stoked and screened. Summer was warm and already asleep. Amy kissed her, hating it that she had to leave to go to work.
    ‘Zoe will be here any minute,’ she whispered, more to reassure herself than anyone else. ‘She’s going to sleep in my bed so she’ll be right here beside you.’
    She kissed her again, and stroked her hair softly. One of these nights, Summer was going to go to sleep and simply not wake up.
    Not tonight. Please…Not before Christmas!
    Giving her uniform a final tug into place and letting the twins know she’d be back up to say good-night, Amy ran down the stairs. It was amazing how being clean and tidy and ready for work made her feel so much more in control.
    Ready for anything.
    Or almost anything. The empty kitchen took the wind out of her sails momentarily. So did the odd expression on Mr Harrington’s face when he appeared a few seconds later. Had he been snooping? Would that explain the curiously guilty flash she thought she saw in his eyes?
    ‘This house is appalling,’ Luke said without preamble, walking towards Amy. ‘It’s falling to pieces.’ He stopped when he reached the kitchen table, resting a hand on the back of one of the chairs. ‘It’s neither a safe nor a healthy environment for anyone to live in. Particularly children. Especially a sick child. It’s simply not fit for human