Gina's Little Secret. Jennifer Taylor

      ‘But ED said he was OK,’ Rosie protested. ‘He’s had a CT scan and it was clear.’

      ‘That may be so, but it isn’t unknown for a bleed to develop later,’ Gina said sharply. ‘That’s why he’s been sent here, so we can monitor what’s happening.’

      ‘Oh, I see. Sorry. I just assumed he was here because of losing his memory.’ Rosie looked so downcast that Gina instantly regretted being so brusque with her.

      ‘That’s certainly one of the reasons why he was sent to us, I imagine. Hopefully, someone from the neuro team will be here soon. I’ll give them a call and see what’s happening. But in the meantime, we’ll apply both belt and braces, i.e. put him on a monitor and do fifteen-minute obs.’

      ‘I understand.’ Rosie perked up a bit. She grinned as she manoeuvred the monitor out of the corner. ‘Not that it’s any hardship to keep an eye on him, mind. He’s definitely fit, despite his age!’

      Gina laughed as the young nurse hurried away. Anyone would think that Marco was in his dotage if they heard that, whereas from what she had seen, he was in his prime. Her heart gave a little jolt at the thought and she hurried into the office to phone Neurology. They promised to send someone down within the hour so she had to leave it at that. There were other patients who needed her attention, after all; she couldn’t devote herself solely to Marco’s care even if she wanted to, which she didn’t.

      She squared her shoulders. Marco had made his feelings perfectly clear three years ago and even though he may have lost his memory, she doubted if he had changed his mind. She hadn’t figured in his life back then and she wouldn’t figure in it now, with or without Lily.

      CHAPTER THREE

      BY THE time the neuro registrar arrived, Marco was feeling decidedly out of sorts. It seemed that every time he closed his eyes that young nurse would appear and start talking to him. He was sick and tired of her shrill little voice buzzing in his ears like a demented wasp. Why hadn’t that other nurse come back, he thought impatiently, the one who had spoken to him so gently? He could put up with her disturbing him very easily.

      He frowned as once again a memory tried to surface only to disappear the moment he attempted to capture it. He was more convinced than ever that he had met her before, but if that were the case then why hadn’t she said something? His head ached even more as he tried to work it out but it was just too difficult. Hopefully, it would all come back to him in time, all the good memories as well as the bad, like those about Francesca.

      Sadness welled up inside him and he closed his eyes, afraid that in his present state he would do something unforgivable like cry. After Francesca had died, he hadn’t cried, hadn’t been able to. He had been too numb at first, too eaten up by grief later to give vent to his emotions. Over the years it had become increasingly important that he shouldn’t break down. He had needed to remain strong if he was to stick to his decision never to allow himself to fall in love again. There had been just that one time he had wavered, when he had realised that he was letting himself feel things he shouldn’t …

      ‘Dr Andretti? I’m Steven Pierce, the neuro registrar. Sorry about the delay but it’s been like a madhouse today.’

      The memory melted away and Marco’s eyes shot open. He stared at the man standing beside the bed then let his gaze move to the woman beside him. So she was back, was she? She had deigned to spare him some time now that her colleague had decided to pay him a visit?

      Marco’s irritation levels shot up several notches and he glared at the younger man. ‘About time too. Is it normal practice to leave a patient suffering from a head trauma in a busy ward like this?’ His gaze skimmed around the room, taking stock of the patients and their visitors, and his expression was frosty when he looked at the nurse. ‘The noise level in here is appalling, Sister. If I was in charge of this department then you can be sure that it would be run along very different lines.’

      ‘But you aren’t in charge, are you, Dr Andretti?’

      Her voice was still soft, but there was a coolness about it that stung and Marco’s frown deepened. However, before he could say anything else the younger doctor intervened.

      ‘Unfortunately, AAU is one of the busiest departments in the hospital. We think we have a tough time on the wards, but I don’t know how the staff here copes with all the comings and goings.’

      Marco inclined his head, acknowledging the rebuke and the justification for it. He had been rude and there was no excuse for that. ‘Of course. I apologise if my comments caused offence, Sister. Mi scusi.’

      ‘There is nothing to apologise for.’

      Her tone was still chilly and he felt a prickle of disappointment nibble away at his irritation. For some reason he couldn’t explain, he didn’t want her to be so distant with him. The thought surprised him so that it was a moment before he realised the registrar was speaking again.

      ‘I noticed that you spoke Italian just now, Dr Andretti. Obviously, some aspects of your life are starting to return.’

      ‘Si,’ he concurred slowly. ‘I realised earlier that English wasn’t my first language, but it is only now that I know Italian is.’

      Steven Pierce nodded. ‘It’s a start. You will probably find that bits and pieces come back to you in no particular order. You’ll recall one event and not recall something else that happened at the same time.’

      ‘You think it is retrograde amnesia,’ Marco queried.

      ‘Yes, more than likely. Most people with amnesia suffer a gap in their memory that extends backwards from the onset of the disorder. When you hit your head during the accident that was the start and now you’re finding it difficult to recall what went on before then.’ Steven smiled. ‘However, the fact that you are able to diagnose your own condition is another indication that your memory is starting to return.’

      ‘Bene. It is not pleasant to not know who you are and what has happened to you,’ Marco admitted. He glanced at the nurse and felt surprise run through him when he saw the alarm on her face. It was obvious that something was troubling her even though she was doing her best to disguise it.

      She must have sensed he was looking at her because she glanced round and he saw the colour run up her face before she turned away, busying herself with rearranging the water jug and glass. Marco knew that it was merely an excuse to avoid looking at him and felt more perplexed than ever. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her what was wrong when the younger man continued.

      ‘I’d like to move you to the neuro unit so we can run some tests, but unfortunately we’re short of beds right now.’ He turned to the nurse. ‘I’m afraid Dr Andretti will have to stay here for tonight, Gina. Sorry about that.’

      ‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.’

      She summoned a smile but Marco could tell how strained it was even if the other man didn’t appear to notice. He listened without interrupting while the registrar explained that he would like Marco to be kept under observation. If he was honest, his attention was focused more on Gina than on the plans for his ongoing care.

      Marco shivered as he silently repeated the name. Once again there was that flash of recognition, the feeling that he had met her before. He tried to force the fog from his brain but it wouldn’t lift. Was he imagining it? Was his brain trying to compensate for its lack of memories by creating new ones?

      As a doctor, he knew it was possible. False memories could be implanted in a person’s mind; it was a proven fact. But why would he want to do such a thing? Surely he wasn’t so desperate to ease his loneliness that he would choose to latch onto a total stranger?

      That was another memory, the fact that he was lonely. Marco let it settle in his mind then dismissed it as he did every single time. He wouldn’t allow himself to wish for more than he had. He’d had everything a man could have dreamed of once and lost it. He couldn’t and