Panic siezed Vicenzo’s innards, turning him cold in an instant. ‘What do you mean?’
The nurse put out a hand, clearly seeing something on his face and making him feel exposed. ‘Oh, no—it’s nothing wrong with Cara. It’s the dog… We were all out in the garden and he just seemed to…suddenly collapse… Lucia and Tommaso had gone shopping, and I couldn’t leave your father, so Cara has taken him to the vet.’
Relief rushed through Vicenzo, making him dizzy. It was just the damn dog. But then the panic returned. ‘You say she took him to the vet?’
‘Yes,’ the nurse said, and looked at her watch, frowning. ‘But it was over three hours ago, so unless she’s still there… I would have thought she’d be back by now.’
Panic was back, and full blown. ‘How did she go there?’
‘I told her she could take my car. I’m in no rush—my shift isn’t over until—’
Vicenzo didn’t wait to hear the rest of her words. He dropped everything and raced out of the villa, jumping onto his motorbike. All he could see in his mind’s eye was the terror on Cara’s face that day in Dublin, when she’d thought they were going to hit that car. Even sitting in the back of vehicles since then he’d always been aware of the tension in her form, of her visible relaxation once she’d get out.
He roared out of the villa and made straight for the vet. When he got there he went in—to find that Cara had been and gone. The vet was launching into an explanation of how Doppo had just been dehydrated, and how he’d told Cara to come back and get him in a couple of days. Vicenzo had to restrain an urge to slam the vet up against a wall as he cut through his words and said, ‘When did my wife leave?’
The vet gulped and said, ‘Not long ago… She did look a little pale, actually. I asked her if she wanted me to call anyone but she said she’d be fine…’
Vicenzo forced himself to calm down. Blanking his mind of anything but finding her, he finally did—and the relief that rushed through him was nothing short of huge. A small car was pulled in at a skewed angle at the side of the road and Cara was kneeling on the grass beside the open door, clearly having been sick.
He jumped off the bike and went straight to her, gathering her up into his arms. She was weak and shaking all over, her face so pale that it made a shard of pure fear go through him. He’d taken a bottle of water from the vet in a moment of clarity, and now made her drink some.
She seemed to come to a little with the water, but her shaking intensified. ‘Vicenzo…’
‘Shh. Don’t talk. I’m taking you home now. You’re safe.’
Even as he lifted her into his arms and stood up he felt her hands clutching at his shirt. She said weakly, ‘The car…it’s the nurse’s car. I don’t think I crashed it, did I?’ The fear in her voice made his insides clench.
‘No, sweetheart, the car is fine. And Doppo is fine.’ He silently cursed the dog again. He got onto the bike, still holding her, and settled her into the cradle of his lap in front of him. He told her to hold on and she did, unquestioningly.
Once back at the villa, Cara felt stronger already. And she also felt like a prize fool. She hadn’t even been able to manage a simple car journey. Her concern for Doppo had got her to the vet, but without him in the car she’d fallen apart, the fatal crash coming back in lurid detail.
She managed to get off the bike without help, and said shakily, ‘I thought I’d be fine. It’s so silly, I wasn’t even driving that night, but I couldn’t…’
‘Evidently not.’ Vicenzo was grim as he followed her off the bike. ‘What the hell were you thinking? Why didn’t you call me, or wait till Tommaso and Lucia had come home?’
Cara looked up at Vicenzo and could feel the colour drain from her face. ‘You’re angry because I left the villa?’
He took her arm. ‘No, you little fool, I’m angry because you almost risked your life for a dog.’
; Confusion and an awful deep yearning made Cara feel dizzy. She was glad Vicenzo was holding onto her. ‘But he’d collapsed, Vicenzo, I wasn’t sure if he was breathing… And after everything that’s happened I wasn’t going to let Doppo die just because I was too scared to drive.’
Vicenzo muttered something unintelligible and led her inside, straight to the living room, where he sat her down and went to the drinks cabinet. He came back with a measure of whisky in a glass and handed it to her.
Cara wrinkled up her nose. ‘No, thanks.’
‘Fine.’ Vicenzo downed it himself.
Cara noticed that he looked slightly pale beneath his tan, and something flared in her chest.
He came and sat down beside her. ‘I think it’s time you told me how you ended up in the car with them that night.’
Cara immediately stood up, in a reflex action to reject what he’d just said. The terror that had been so recent surged back. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ She turned round and said, a little wildly, ‘What’s the point? It won’t being your sister back.’
The awful debilitating guilt was back, never far from the surface.
‘No, it won’t, Cara. But I think you’ve been punishing yourself long enough for something that wasn’t even your fault.’