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Using a false surname that only he, his security team and the most senior member of the hospital were aware of.
Her eyes widened. ‘That’s spooky! I work there, too.’
Did she, now? That was the best news he’d had for months.
‘Which definitely means I can come on your visit,’ he said smoothly. ‘We’re colleagues. And after that I’m walking you home and we can heal each other’s bruises.’
Her lips parted slightly and he held his breath. If she said no, he was in big trouble.
‘I—I don’t know…’
The wary look was back and he gave her a smile that he hoped was non-threatening.
‘Look, I know this was an unconventional meeting, but you don’t need to be scared of me. If I step out of line you can always black my other eye.’
Maybe he was playing dirty by appealing to her conscience but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to let her walk out of his life.
‘All right.’ She hauled the bag onto her shoulder and jerked her head towards a high-rise building in the next street. ‘Come with me to see Kelly and then we’ll go back to my place and sort your face out. It’s the least I can do after having tried to half kill you.’
Resisting the impulse to punch the air in triumph, Carlo shortened his stride to match hers and followed her up seemingly endless flight of soulless concrete steps that intersected the flats.
He glanced around with a deepening frown.
No wonder she didn’t like coming here at night. The place was menacing and rough. Definitely not somewhere to be after dark. Especially for a woman on her own. The walls were covered in graffiti, there were smashed windows and boarded-up doors and, even this close to Christmas, there was very little evidence of festive cheer.
The girl came to a halt in front of a door, tugged the woollen hat back on her head and stuffed her hair back underneath it.
‘All part of the disguise.’ She tossed him a smile that made his whole body ache, and tapped on the door.
‘Kelly?’ She leaned closer to the door. ‘Kelly, it’s Zan. Let me in.’
Zan? Carlo blinked in surprise.
What sort of a name was Zan?
He was still trying to work it out when the door jerked open and a burly man stood there.
If ever a man was looking for a fight it was this one, and instinctively Carlo straightened his shoulders and prepared himself for trouble.
What the hell was the girl doing in a place like this? This certainly wasn’t his idea of midwifery.
‘Hi, Mike.’ Zan didn’t seem remotely nervous. Instead, she just gave the man the same warm smile she’d used on him earlier and peeped round him into the flat. ‘Can I see Kelly? I brought some stuff…’
She jiggled the black bin back temptingly and Mike’s face darkened.
‘We ain’t taking no charity!’
Zan shook her head. ‘Of course you’re not. It isn’t charity,’ she said easily, her tone relaxed and friendly. ‘Mothers swap clothes all the time. Someone I look after was having a clear-out—I just thought you might find it useful, but I can offer it to someone else if you prefer…’
Mike glowered at her and then opened the door wider. ‘And while we’re at it Kelly ain’t going to hospital, so don’t even think about suggesting it.’ He looked over her shoulder and his eyes narrowed as they fixed on Carlo. He looked at him man to man, his eyes resting on the width of Carlo’s shoulders. ‘Who’s he?’
Zan opened her mouth but Carlo spoke first.
‘I’m a doctor. Carlo Bennett.’
He almost stumbled over the surname, because it wasn’t his and he wasn’t used to it yet, but it was the name that everyone had agreed he should use while he was hiding out in London. As a qualified surgeon he was actually entitled to call himself Mr, but he didn’t think this was the time to worry about the finer points of titles. ‘I’m going to be working in this area and Zan said I could come with her on some visits.’
Aware that Zan was staring at him, Carlo gave the other man a friendly smile and reached out a hand.
There was a moment’s hesitation and then Mike shook it briefly, but his expression was still unfriendly.
‘You don’t look English and you don’t sound English.’
‘Part Italian,’ Carlo lied smoothly, denying some of his heritage in the interests of discretion. Mike pulled a face, leaving no one in any doubt of what he thought of foreign doctors.
‘Well, you can come in as you’re here, but you might as well know that I hate doctors and I’m not having one of them near my woman. Zan’s the only one I’ll let look at her.’
‘No problem.’ Careful to be non-confrontational, Carlo strolled into the flat after Zan, trying not to show his shock as they walked into the tiny sitting room.
The room was filthy and stacked high with old newspapers and half-eaten plates of food. In the middle of the carpet a German shepherd dog lay with its head on one paw, eyes fixed warily on Carlo.
The place was damp and freezing, and in the corner was a thin wisp of a girl with a rounded stomach and skinny legs.
‘Hi, Kelly.’ Clearing a space on the sofa, Zan sat down and opened the bin bag. ‘How are you feeling?’
Kelly glanced nervously at Mike, who gave a nod. ‘I’m doing OK,’ she said in a low voice, ‘but I’m pretty tired. Well, very tired, actually.’
And he would have bet half his fortune that she was anaemic, Carlo thought, running a professional eye over the patient and her surroundings. Judging from the remains of the food on the plate, she wasn’t eating properly.
‘I think it’s possible that you may be anaemic,’ Zan was saying as she delved into the bag for a blood-pressure cuff. ‘That basically means that your blood isn’t carrying enough oxygen. It can happen very easily when you’re pregnant, especially if you don’t eat properly.’
Carlo blinked with admiration. So she’d homed in on the same problem immediately.
She checked Kelly’s blood pressure and then glanced at Mike. ‘I really want to take a blood sample, Mike.’
‘No way.’ His tone was unfriendly. ‘I’m not having you sticking needles in her. Just do what you have to do and leave.’
Zan’s expression was understanding. ‘I’m just trying to help her, Mike. She’s thirty-four weeks pregnant. If she is anaemic then that could be the reason she’s so tired, and we need to get it sorted out before she has the baby. I want to check the iron levels in her blood.’
‘No needles.’ Mike moved towards Zan and Carlo took a step forward, ready to intervene.
No way was that thug going any nearer to Zan.
‘If you’ve got iron in your bag then just give it to her,’ Carlo said smoothly, and three pairs of eyes turned to look at him.
‘There’s a strong chance that you are anaemic, and obviously we’d like to check that out.’ He spoke directly to Kelly. ‘But if you’d rather we didn’t then the next best thing is to just give you the iron.’
‘Will it hurt the baby?’
‘It could hurt you if you don’t have it,’ Carlo said gently. ‘Being pregnant and giving birth to a child place huge demands on your body. We need to correct it or you could have problems during your delivery and you’ll be exhausted afterwards. When you come into the hospital we—’
‘She ain’t coming into the hospital!’ Mike growled, and Zan cleared her throat.
‘Don’t let’s worry about that now. You’ve got my number, and you know that I’ll deliver Kelly any time you want me to, anywhere you want me to, but we really do need her to take some iron.’ She reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of tablets. ‘Will you take one a day for me?’
Kelly glanced at Mike for approval before taking the bottle, and he gave a brief nod.
‘And now can I just check the position of the baby?’
‘Not with him in the room.’ Mike glared at Carlo, who strolled towards the living-room door immediately.
‘I’ll wait in the hallway.’
Whatever had happened to the man to make him so suspicious?
Five minutes later Zan called him back in.
Her eyes were troubled as they met his. ‘I don’t think the baby is growing quite as fast as it should—She’s small for thirty-four weeks.’
Carlo lifted his eyes to Mike. ‘Can I examine her?’
‘No!’
‘Mike, please?’ Zan’s voice was soft and reassuring and Mike hesitated, his jaw set.
Finally he nodded. ‘All right.’ He glared at Carlo. ‘But I’m watching you.’
‘That’s fine.’ Carlo moved his hands skilfully over the mother’s abdomen, thinking that he’d never seen such a half-starved waif in his life. Normally he dealt with the pampered wives of the hideously wealthy, and the contrast was extreme. As he examined the girl he realised just how bored he’d become, working in his world-famous Women’s Unit in Milan. The case he was seeing now presented so much more of a challenge, both medically and socially.
‘Well?’
Mike was looking at him threateningly and Carlo picked up the tape measure that Zan had used and measured Kelly from the top of the bump to her pelvic bone. The measurement was supposed to correlate roughly to the number of weeks of pregnancy, but in this case Zan was right. The baby seemed small.
‘Do you smoke?’
Kelly shook her head, but her eyes slid nervously to Mike and Carlo deduced that the man probably smoked heavily and that she was therefore subjecting the baby to passive smoking.
‘The baby does seem slightly smaller than we would like,’ he said gently, talking directly to Kelly. ‘Ideally I’d like to get you to come to the hospital for a series of scans. Nothing scary. We just slide a clever device that’s basically a camera over your stomach and we’re able to measure the size of the baby’s head. That gives us an indication of what size the baby should be, and we can then take a look at the rest of him.’
Kelly glanced at Mike, who shook his head.
‘She’s not going to hospital.’
Carlo frowned. ‘But—’
‘That’s fine,’ Zan interrupted quickly, shooting Carlo a warning look. ‘But if you change your mind then come and see us any time. I brought you some clothes, Kelly.’
She delved into the bin bag again and pulled out another bag full of tiny baby clothes, vests and a gorgeous blanket.
Carlo’s eyes narrowed.
If those clothes were second-hand then he was an Englishman.
Kelly gave a gasp and her face suddenly shone like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.
‘Someone was giving this away?’ She fingered one of the outfits in disbelief and Zan smiled.
‘They were no use to her.’
Oh, sure.
‘But they’re like new.’ Kelly looked at Mike, her expression pleading. ‘Can I keep them—please?’
Carlo found himself holding his breath and finally Mike nodded. ‘I suppose so,’ he muttered.
‘Oh, and I’ve had a word with the council,’ Zan said casually, ‘and they’re trying to rehouse you in a flat on the first floor.’
Kelly looked at her with hope in her eyes. ‘Really?’ Her slim shoulders sagged slightly. ‘I just can’t let myself get excited in case it doesn’t happen.’
‘It will happen, Kelly,’ Zan said firmly. ‘There’s no way you can stay here. The weather is getting colder, the flat is damp and there’s fourteen flights of stairs between you and the ground floor. How are you going to manage that with a baby when the lift’s out of order? I’ve been talking to Social Services about rehousing you and they’re doing their best.’
Carlo listened to her and wondered if the couple had any idea how lucky they were to have Zan to fight their corner.
‘She can take the tablets, but she ain’t coming to hospital for that scan thing,’ Mike said, and Zan looked him in the eye.
‘The baby isn’t big enough, Mike. We really need to—’
‘Get out!’
Kelly flinched and shrank back into her chair.
Carlo’s eyes narrowed slightly and he drew himself up to his full height, preparing himself for trouble.
‘We’re leaving,’ Zan said calmly, smiling at Mike as though he hadn’t just yelled at her in the rudest way possible. ‘We’ll talk about it again next time.’
‘She ain’t going to the hospital and that’s final.’
Zan stood up. ‘That’s fine, Mike.’ She turned to look at Kelly, her gaze direct. ‘Any problems, call me.’
With that she looked meaningfully at Carlo and walked out of the flat with him following close behind.
CHAPTER TWO
‘DOES he hit her?’ Carlo followed her down the dark staircase and back onto the streets.
‘I don’t think so.’ Zan turned sharp left and then right down a wide road that stretched along the river. ‘I think he’s just very controlling.’
‘And why does he hate hospitals so much?’
