was upstairs, and darted away as soon as she saw her to open the door to Nico’s room. Together they undressed the sleepy child, and slipped him between the sheets. He put his arms about Joanne again, and she hugged him back, her heart aching for the little boy who’d gone without his mother’s embraces for so long.
‘Will you sing to me?’ he whispered.
‘What shall I sing?’
‘The song about the rabbit.’
For a moment her mind went blank. Then she remembered that Rosemary had written a little nonsense verse that she’d sung to Nico. Gradually the words came back to her, and she began to sing in a husky voice.
‘Look at the rabbit, scampering home.
See how his tail bobs, bobs, bobs as he runs.
It’s late and he wants his supper,
Then he’ll curl up and go to sleep.
And he’ll snore, he’ll snore, he’ll snore.’
Nico gave a small delighted chuckle. ‘Sing it again,’ he begged.
Obediently Joanne sang the little verse a second time, and then a third.
‘Again,’ he whispered.
From the corner of her eye she could see Franco standing in the doorway, keeping back, not to disturb them. He didn’t move or make a sound, but she was aware of him with every fibre of her being, even while she concentrated on the child.
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