to try and step into her Gwendolyn’s shoes.’
Jenna almost smiled. Talk about offputting. Louise Gibbs would be the mother-in-law from hell, irrespective of whether she was related to her granddaughter’s stepmother. ‘I can assure you I have absolutely no interest in forming a relationship with any man at this point in my life. I’m very happily single for the moment.’
Which was absolutely true. Jenna wasn’t about to complicate her life with the potential for more unhappiness and even if she was open to meeting someone, there were a lot of qualities far more important than looks or the state of bank accounts. Intelligence for one. And compassion. And a sense of humour. Tolerance and warmth and…
‘So you might consider taking this position?’
Jenna focussed again with a blink. ‘I still don’t understand quite why you want someone with my qualifications.’
Maria was silent for a moment. And then she gave another small, resigned sigh. ‘You’ve probably noticed that Louise is a lot younger than I am. I was nearly forty when I had Paolo and Gwen was ten years younger than him. Louise is only forty-two. I’m seventy-four and things are not as good as they used to be,’ Maria continued quietly. ‘Artrite. Arth-aritis. Another bone thing I can’t pronounce.’
‘Osteoporosis?’
‘Yes.’ Maria nodded approvingly. ‘I think so. And I have the blood…Oh, what is it? La pressione alta.’
Translation seemed surprisingly easy. ‘High blood pressure? Hypertension?’
Maria nodded again. ‘Si.’ As she relaxed into her confidences, her accent became stronger—her English less perfect. ‘And now I have been told I have the diabetes. The bad one.’
‘Type one? You need insulin injections?’
‘Yes. Iniezione. The needles. I have to start them soon. Tomorrow, maybe. I have an appointment with the doctor. It’s difficult. Sometimes my English is not as good as it should be for being here in Nuova Zelanda for more than twenty years. Shirley has been helping me but she knows no more than I do. We are like—how do you say it? The blind leading the blind.’
At last, Jenna understood at least part of what had made this interview so puzzling. It wasn’t the baby who was the potential patient. It was Maria. The older woman touched her arm. It was almost a plea.
‘Paolo needs time to get used to being a father by himself. I don’t wish him to know that it is difficult for me to help. If we were still in Italy, it would be no problem, of course, but Paolo will not consider leaving his job and families are not the same here, are they? If Ella was taken to Auckland by Louise, she would be lost to us and that would be…a tragedia.’
Dark brown eyes that had not faded with age were swimming with tears. ‘It’s not for me,’ Maria said. ‘And it’s not just that Louise doesn’t share the same things of importance in raising a bambino. It’s because Ella needs her papa. And he needs her. He just hasn’t realised it yet.’
In other words, Jenna would be stepping into an emotional minefield. The passions of an Italian family on the one side and a cold and determined woman, possibly obsessed with the memory of her daughter, on the other. Hardly the easy job she had anticipated but it wasn’t going to be pleasant to disappoint someone who clearly cared so much about the best interests of others. Especially when one of those ‘others’ was a baby girl who had no idea of the undercurrents in the world around her.
That concern for others made the reminder of her own mother stronger than ever. Jenna had wanted to help her mum so badly but had been unable to do any more than make her last few months as comfortable as possible.
She could help Maria, though.
‘I’ll have to think about it,’ she said slowly.
‘Of course.’ But Maria’s shoulders slumped a little and she muttered something inaudible in Italian. Then she blinked away the remainder of her tears. ‘Come back to the lounge for a moment. Paolo promised he would try and get home in time to meet you so you would not have to come back for another interview.’
Perhaps Paul Romano was a man of his word.
Due either to good management or luck, the surgeon was entering the front door of the house just as Maria and Jenna emerged from the kitchen and Louise was arriving at the foot of the sweeping staircase with Danielle in her arms.
For a moment nobody moved.
An eloquent snatch of time in which the situation and everybody’s reactions to it were registered. The atmosphere was suddenly electric and Jenna had to take a deep breath as the swirl of undercurrents threatened to suck her under.
Louise’s hold on Danielle struck a discordant note and her determination to advertise her right to be there was almost palpable. ‘Look, Danielle,’ she said brightly. ‘Daddy’s home.’
Maria’s smile of welcome faded as her gaze travelled from her son to the woman holding her granddaughter. Jenna could sense the anxiety all too clearly.
But what made the air really crackle was the fact that Jenna realised instantly that Louise had no show of being the one in control. The man in that photograph had been a single dimension. The reality was overpowering.
Too good-looking, in a dark suit reminiscent of that wedding attire. The only incongruous note in the immaculate appearance came from the large, stuffed toy giraffe he was holding by one leg in the same hand as a sleek leather briefcase.
He was also charming. But the smile was well practised and did not disguise the keen assessment coming from eyes even darker than those of his daughter. His head dipped in a single nod. The kind of nod, Jenna thought with amusement, that one of his new theatre nurses might receive. She was there and, of course, she wanted the job, but she would have to prove her capability. The benefit of any doubt was not about to be bestowed.
The awkward tension broke as the briefcase was deposited beside an antique umbrella stand and Paul Romano flicked one of Danielle’s silky curls with his forefinger.
‘Ciao, cara.’ He held out the giraffe, which Louise took, shaking her head.
‘You spoil her, Paul. She already has an entire zoo of animals.’
Danielle took no notice of the toy. She beamed, twisting in Louise’s grip to hold out her arms. ‘Pa-pa!’
But her father was already turning away as his mother spoke.
‘Paolo, this is Jenna Freeman.’
‘Yes.’ This time he held out his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Ms Freeman.’
His English was perfect. Just enough trace of an accent in that deep voice to give it an edge that made you want to hear more. And his grip was strong. Sure. This time the eye contact was more personal. Penetrating, even. If Jenna had found the physical presence of this man overpowering, the effect of this physical contact was extremely disconcerting.
Intimidating?
Yes, but Jenna wasn’t about to be intimidated. The subtle put-down of treating her as no more than a prospective employee didn’t matter because Jenna had no intention of working for this man.
Not
