He nodded, and pierced the nurse with an intense stare. “Stay here with her while I’m gone. Do not leave this room.” Used to giving commands and having them be obeyed without question, he didn’t see the look of surprise on the nurse’s face, because he swept from the room without a backwards glance.
His walk was determined, his need for answers, his sense of disbelief making his stride longer, his bearing somehow more intimidating, more intense than usual. There was a fierceness to him, an energy that would have struck fear into his rivals’ hearts – into anyone’s heart.
He scanned a map as he passed it, purely to assure himself he was moving in the right direction, jabbed the lift and the doors sprung open almost immediately.
A fluorescent light flickered in the corridor when he emerged a moment later.
He walked quickly, but at the doors to the crèche, he paused for a moment, gathering his breath. He knew he was on the edge of a precipice, that there was potentially someone within this small room in this publically funded hospital who could change his entire life.
Without another moment’s delay, he pushed the door inwards.
A young man with a face covered by acne and a head topped with pale straw-coloured hair lifted his eyes to Fiero.
“Here to pick up or drop off?”
Fiero looked beyond him, to the few children in the brightly-coloured room. There were two girls playing with Lego in the corner, building a tower high into the room. They were young, perhaps five or six. There was a boy, dressed as a cowboy, making a gun with his fingers and skipping around the room as though he rode a horse.
And then…there was another little boy sitting in the corner building a car track, sliding the pieces together with an obstinate determination that was instantly familiar to Fiero.
Fiero stood, transfixed, his body radiating the same tension it had upstairs, but for a wholly different reason now.
As a boy, he’d been winded, once. At Villa Fortune, his grandparents’ home in the Tuscan hillside, he’d been running too fast through the olive grove and hadn’t noticed the rock in front of him. His toe had connected with it and he’d been sent flying – the impact had whooshed all the air from his lungs. He’d laid on the ground, staring up at the azure blue sky, olive leaves whispering overhead, and he’d been incapable of movement, not even of drawing breath. He had simply laid there, stars in his eyes, pain in his chest.
He felt that now, right down to the tightness beneath his ribs. He stared at the little boy and a thousand and one emotions slammed into him, but anger was chief amongst them, anger and disbelief.
There was too much to feel, too much to remember. Alison’s pregnancy, their stillborn child who had looked so much like this child. His pulse fired and a sweat broke out on his brow. Panic flooded his veins. Fiero – renowned for his control and lack of emotionalism – felt overwhelmed by feelings in that moment. The pain and grief he and Alison had endured had ended years ago – but it never really went away, did it? The sense that he had somehow failed her, failed their unborn children, that there’d been something wrong with him.
And now he was looking at a little boy who – surely – must be his son.
He swept his eyes shut and did the calculations. Three years ago when he’d been in London finalising the purchase of a chain of boutique European hotels he’d spent one night with Elodie, this boy’s mother.
If this was indeed his son, it would make this boy around two years and three months. He swept his eyes over him, and anger and grief, the rich sense of bodily disbelief, shifted a little, making space for pride.
Fiero couldn’t explain the certainty that gripped him to another soul. While the little boy looked like him, that wasn’t conclusive proof. No, there was so much more – hefelta connection to the boy. On some deep level, heknewJack Gardiner was his child, his flesh and blood.
“Sir? You’re here to pick up?”
“That is my son.” The words were deep and rumbling. He fired a look at the hospital staffer and then pushed past him, into the nursery.
“Ah, sir, there’s some paperwork I’ll need you to –,”
“Later.” He didn’t stop until he reached the child, and then he crouched down in front of him, his breath still burning in his lungs, breathing as difficult now as it had been when he was a boy sprawled amongst the olive trees.
The child lifted his head, fixing a steady gaze on Fiero, and it was like looking in a mirror. A whoosh of air escaped him as he catalogued all the features of his son’s face, features that were so familiar to him. Their eyes were identical, their noses too. His lips were shaped like Elodie’s, but otherwise, the boy was pure Montebello.
And he hadn’t even known about him. Memory cut through him – he was in another hospital, in a different country, many years ago, but the strength of the memory made him feel as though it were all happening again.
“One last push, Alison.”
Fiero watched as his wife screamed, her body rent with pain. He stood by her side, his hand in hers, her nails drawing blood from his flesh. He didn’t care. He stared at her, the woman who had been one of his best friends for many years, who was about to give him the greatest gift he could imagine. He looked at the doctors expectantly. The obstetrician pulled a baby from her and Fiero laughed, tilting his head back, disbelief filling him. How could he be this blessed? How could life be so kind to him?
“Well?” His voice was thick with emotion. “Is it a boy or a girl?”
The doctor didn’t answer. A nurse at his side moved closer and then there was a sound – discernible because apart from Alison’s breathing, the room was completely silent – the sound of wheels being rolled quickly across the room. He looked around to see a metallic trolley being pushed towards Alison’s legs.
The doctor hit the baby on the back; Fiero saw that it was a boy and fierce pride resounded through him – the same pride he undoubtedly would have felt had his child been a girl. All he cared about, really, was that their baby was healthy.
“What is it?” Alison pushed up onto her elbows. Fiero squeezed her hand.