LILY WAS IN the sizeable garden, examining some of the eye-catching blooms, when without warning and out of the blue a sharp pain knifed through her abdomen. It was so painful she abruptly dropped the secateurs she’d been dead-heading the flowers with and clutched at her distended stomach. Another stabbing pain and then another followed, in close succession.
Already three days overdue, Lily knew this must be the start of labour.
Biting her lip and slowly heading back to the house, she was glad that her husband had insisted on working from home these past few weeks—just in case he was needed earlier than they’d anticipated. And being aware that his wife was now overdue had made Bastian even more watchful of her. Knowing that his own mother had died in childbirth, it hadn’t been easy for Lily to allay his fears.
Inching her way across the lawn, Lily went inside and reached his study door just as another wave of pain hit. Abruptly coming to a stop, and pushing her long hair behind her ears, she took some deep breaths in and out and schooled herself to try and stay calm.
As if intuiting that she was there, Bastian opened the door, his dark eyes lit with concern. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
Grimacing, she answered, ‘I think the baby’s coming. My labour pains have started.’
‘Mio Dio!’ His face drained of colour, but he quickly calmed himself and said, ‘Then let’s make you comfortable while I phone for an ambulance.’
His voice was reassuringly even.
Guiding her to the generous-sized leather couch in his study, he gently lifted her legs up onto the cushions and put the generous-sized pillow he sometimes dozed on when he was working late behind her back.
‘Concentrate on your breathing, tesoro, and don’t worry about anything else,’ he advised, smoothing back her hair.
‘Easy for you to say!’ she quipped, and then immediately hoped he wouldn’t take that the wrong way.
But she didn’t even know if he’d heard her. He’d dropped down onto the chair behind his desk, and right then his focus was on ringing for an ambulance.
Minutes later, after relating all the necessary details, he rang off and hurriedly came back to join her. ‘The ambulance is on its way. In the meantime, is there anything I can do to help make you more comfortable?’
Swallowing hard, Lily concentrated on her breathing, at the same time anticipating another dizzying wave of pain. But she knew that her love for her husband wouldn’t let her forget that he also needed some support during one of the greatest, most life-changing events a couple could have in their lives.
‘Yes, my love. You can stay close to me. Then I’ll know that everything will be all right.’
‘Are you worried that something untoward will happen?’
Bastian couldn’t hide the brief flare of fear in his eyes. This was the closest he’d come to confronting one of his darkest terrors. The possibility that Lily—the love of his life—could die in childbirth, like his mother, tormented him like a cruel enemy he could never vanquish.
Her green eyes glistened. ‘Of course not—and nor should you be. But that’s not to say I won’t take some gas and air if the pain gets too—’ Her face crumpled and this time it was she who gripped his hand like an iron fist.
He sprang into action, immediately putting his own fears aside and concentrating wholly on helping his wife. ‘Breathe deeply, my sweet. That’s it. And when the wave comes ride it and all will be well. That’s it, my beautiful and strong wife.’
He was mopping her brow with a soft cloth dipped in some cool water when the air was suddenly and abruptly punctuated by the sound of an ambulance siren.
Just a few minutes later they found themselves on their way to the hospital...
* * *
Bastian stayed with his wife in the delivery room throughout the birth, feeling his heart pound and his stomach clench at every gut-wrenching groan she made, alarmed that she seemed to be suffering so much.
More than once he questioned the obstetrician and the assistant midwife who were in attendance—was the birth progressing normally? But their assurances didn’t help as much as he wanted. The spectre of his mother’s death in the same situation never left him.
Even Alberto hadn’t been able to disguise his concern when Bastian had rung him from the ambulance to tell him that the birth was imminent and that he and Lily were on their way to the hospital.
‘How is she, son? She is not in too much distress?’ he had asked.
He had glanced down at his wife on the stretcher, where she’d been displaying all the hard-to-bear agony of a woman soon to give birth because her pains had started coming more quickly than she’d thought they would. She’d been gripping his hand hard enough to cut off his circulation.
He’d done his best to stay as calm as he could before answering his father. ‘Apart from with the labour pains, you mean? No, Dad. It’s just hard to see her suffering so much.’
The line had become tellingly silent for a few moments, and he’d known his father must be reliving what had happened to Bastian’s mother after she’d given birth to him. Annalisa had developed a dangerous fever called sepsis and had never recovered.
‘Everything is going to be all right, son.’
Coming back to him with renewed resolve in his voice, Alberto had reassured him.
‘Lily is a strong woman and she is determined to deliver you a healthy baby. We have talked about it together many times and she has told me how much joy it will bring you both. She loves you so much. History is not going to repeat itself...trust me.’
‘Thanks, Dad. I can use all the positive predictions I can get right now.’
‘You know I will be there with you in spirit, if not in body, my son, don’t you? As soon as we can, after the baby is born, Dolores and I will come to visit. Keep strong, Bastian. You must keep strong for Lily.’
‘I will. I don’t intend to lose her any time soon. She is everything to me.’
There had followed a nail-biting few hours, during which his wife’s pain had grown distressing, and her obstetrician had now advised her to take some gas and air.
In between the huge gulps she was taking, Bastian endeavoured to speak calmly to her, keeping his voice low and reassuring, alternately stroking her damp brow and holding her hand. Whatever happened, he vowed to stay with her and watch their baby being born. He was determined that his watchful presence would help Lily and the baby survive, whatever hurdles should face them, no matter how precarious and challenging they might be.
At last the doctor told them that the baby’s birth was imminent. Bastian all but held his breath, but he never gave up praying that all would go well. The knowledge that his mother had lost her life in just such a scenario continued to haunt him.
Then, remembering what his father had advised earlier, he knew he had to stay strong. He’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t let Lily down. They were in this together.
‘Hold on, my darling,’ he told his wife now. ‘You’re nearly there...the baby is coming.’
He had just seen the baby’s head emerging, followed by a sudden rush of arms, torso and legs, and at first sight everything seemed to be in the right place.
When the midwife announced, ‘It’s a boy, Signora Carrera—you and your husband have a beautiful son!’ the infant started to wail loudly and Bastian wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.
Turning to Lily and raining kisses all over her face, he felt beyond elated at the news.
* * *
The Carreras had had many discussions around Alberto’s kitchen table on naming the new addition to the family, but as yet hadn’t decided what that name would be.
Bastian and Lily were the proud and happy parents of a beautiful dark-haired baby boy, and as soon as his wife was up to receiving them there would be a steady line of enthusiastic visitors calling to the house to convey their congratulations. The nursery was all but overflowing with gifts and cards, and Dolores had her work cut out in helping to accommodate them.
One afternoon, after lunch at his dad’s place, Bastian stole his wife away from the company for a little while, leaving Alberto and his housekeeper fussing round the infant as he lay in his bassinet. Their son was now three weeks old, and it was seriously bothering him that his first-born was still without a name.
Straight away they went out into the garden, because it seemed a crime to stay inside when it was such a gloriously sunny day. Lily was looking especially beautiful in a pretty blue-and-white dress made from organic cotton. It had a crossover neckline that allowed her to nurse the baby whenever she needed to, and he felt pleased and proud that she wanted to feed the infant herself.
As was often the case, the sight of her immediately drew his thoughts away from everything else and made him focus on her instead...
She’d been so brave having the baby. It hadn’t been an easy birth, by any means, and at one point the baby had turned over. Bastian was sure he had acquired a few grey hairs before the midwife had turned the infant in the right direction again, but once their son was born Lily had recovered much more quickly than they’d hoped. His beautiful wife was a truly amazing woman, and he didn’t care how many times he said so to family, friends and his workers alike.
Catching hold of her slim hands now, he turned up her palms and planted a loving kiss on each one. ‘I needed to have you to myself for a while,’ he confessed huskily. ‘Tomorrow I go back to work, and you will be out of my reach for far too long for my liking.’
‘Hmm... Then now is the perfect time to finally decide what our son will be called, don’t you think?’
Gazing back into her incandescent green eyes, Bastian knew she had already made up her mind about the name and he braced himself. He hoped that whatever she had chosen wouldn’t instigate any disagreement between them. He didn’t much care for some of the more quintessentially English names, considering them a bit too ‘plummy’ for an earthy Italian.
‘I can see that you already have a name in mind...am I right?’
‘I sometimes think you have a direct line to my thoughts that’s almost uncanny...’
‘I do—and I’m glad of it. That aside, you’d better tell me what you’ve chosen.’
‘I thought we could name him after one of the Archangels? Raphael is the saint who looks after children and travellers, and it’s a beautiful, strong name. What do you think?’
Bastian’s lips had already widened into a smile, and this time he kissed Lily full on the mouth to demonstrate his pleasure in her decision. ‘It is perfect. I am only annoyed that I didn’t think of it myself.’
‘But you can live with it? The name, I mean?’
‘Raphael Leo Carrera. It is decided. That’s our son’s name.’
‘Where did Leo come from?’
‘It came out of the blue just now. Isn’t that how we make all our best decisions, tesoro? Spontaneously?’
The fair-haired beauty in front of him grinned unashamedly. She knew immediately what he was referring to.
With his arm firmly around her waist, Bastian led his wife back through the open patio doors. ‘We shouldn’t waste any time before we tell my father and Dolores. Before we know it they’ll be organising the baptism.’
‘Hold on a minute. Can we just stop for a while?’
‘Of course. What is it?’
His wife’s lingering gaze all but ate him up.
‘I just want to remind you of how much I love you. I don’t want you ever to forget that—no matter what challenges we have to face in the future. You and Raphael will be my number one concern—always.’
‘Along with all the other children we will have?’
‘But of course!’
‘On that note...’
Instinctively, he moved her against the wall and hungrily closed in on her, feeling her warm breath drift over him, making him ache to get even closer.
‘How long before we can...?’ Uncharacteristically, he flushed hotly.
‘Make love?’
‘Si...’
‘The general advice is to wait until six weeks have passed and the woman has had a chance to heal.’
Bastian huffed out a frustrated breath. ‘That means three more weeks, then. I suspect it might be the biggest test of my life!’
‘Hmm, but surely it will be worth the wait, my love?’
As she tenderly brushed her lips against his unshaven cheek Lily’s smile was unreservedly happy and contented. At last she had found the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, and also the place where she wanted to live, with her hopefully growing family, and it was far, far better than any idyllic fantasy she could have imagined.
* * * * *