Papa Giovanni xxiii hospital is a sprawling set of buildings, the complex almost reminiscent of the layout of the Pentagon. Modern architecture with not a hint of the old, stale, concrete involved in so many of the other communistic government structures.

Worried expressions of people's faces pass me by as I'm escorted by Alberto and the van driver to the emergency room. My hands automatically wrap around the bump of my abdomen. I don't feel any different. Surely if something was wrong I'd feel different right.

We arrive at the reception desk and the men explain in unison to the nurse behind the glass about my situation. Both gushing and waving their hands.

Her name badge says Angelica Morini. She's about forty-years-old and has a bored expression, cleverly masking intelligent, sharp blue eyes. She listens to the anxious men, watches me carefully and takes the necessary details and medical information cards. After entering the info in the computer, she hands them back under the gap in the screen and gestures for me to come round, through the security doors and into the office.

Alberto and the other man hustle in after me but are stopped with a sharp word and raised hand by Angelica Morini and they are left in the corridor, taking the opportunity to fill in the insurance forms and pas the blame over the accident.

Angelica takes me by the arm and begins to assess if there are any obvious signs of damage.

She speaks calmly and briskly, a strange lilt to her Italian. Asking me something that I have no idea how to respond to, as I've never heard the words before, she regards me with what seems to me to be impatience and repeats in a mixture of Italian and Irish accented English,

"I said, do you have any pain in your back?"

"Ah, no." I'm so relieved to have communication re-established. No back pain, that must be a good sign. I search Angelica's face for a sign. No luck.

"Let's get you to have an ultrasound."

Overwhelming shock and fear flood over me and I have to grasp for the tall, redhead's arm as my knees give way.

Sighing heavily, Angelica pulls up the wheelchair nearby and relaxes me down into it. A chink in her armour appears as she smiles and nods at me.

"It will all be okay."

She escorts me back to the waiting Alberto. Then, giving him papers and orders on where to go, she leaves me to return to her station, patting me on the shoulder as she goes.

After the test are done, the verdict is that everything is fine, thank goodness. I meet Signora Morini again as she and I are both leaving for home.

"You see..." she says with a hint of laughter in her eyes, "I told you it would be okay. You English are made of strong stuff, right?"

We get chatting while I wait for Alberto to arrange a taxi, she's actually a very funny lady, bigger built than me, but not excessively overweight, single by choice and desperate to improve her English and her bad landlord situation.

Passing her my phone number with the agreement to get together for conversation practice, I begin to realise that this lady will become much more than a student to me over the coming years, she'll also turn out to be one of my best friends.

********

In a couple of weeks time, Jack, Simon, Sissy and I, pack ourselves on a train from Bergamo Station to Pisa, then onto Grosseto, Tuscany.

Since the accident Jack has hardly left my side. He pops up at the shop, surprising Ruben and bringing me treats and drinks and flowers. It was his suggestion that we take some time out and visiting the little villa with the best view in the world. The car crash scared him badly, probably worse than it did me.

We helped Alberto out with the down-payment on a new car, only fair as we get the use of it as much as he does.

Matteo greets us at the station and drives us back to the house. Sissy balancing between Simon and me on the backseat, her little body leaning precariously every time we take a bend which curls round the shoreline road. She grins happily at me, tongue lolling out.

When we pull up the drive, I spot Rosanna at the door, She's brushing herself down and smoothing her hair as a sea breeze teases and tosses all her previous hard work with disrespect.

"Simon!" She squeals, coming out to scoop him up into a hug.

"Ciao, Mamma." Jack smiles and kisses his much smaller mother. She pinches his cheeks, obviously ecstatic to have her family back together.

"Mamma... " Jack continues as she makes her way over to see me. "Mamma, devo dirti una cosa...."

He continues explaining to his mother and, impartially, to his listening but seemingly uninterested father, all about the pregnancy. Until now, I had assumed that he had told them the news on one of his routine Sunday phone calls, so this is as much a surprise for me as it is for them.

Rosanna claps her hands together and rushes to crush me in a tear-sticken embrace. "Oh, oh! Mia Jilly!"

Matteo seems sad, he puts down the bags in front of the door and beckons Jack to follow him through the house and out into the glorious back garden.

I get to hear what happened between them later that night, as Jack and I lay together on the fold out bed in the living room, covers kicked off as our skin laps up the fresh air from the open window and the white light of the bright moon.

"Dad started by telling me how much Mum's been getting at him to talk to me since I moved back to Italy. He said it wasn't easy for him to talk to anyone about anything but if he didn't say something then she was going to make him sleep on the sofa bed for the rest of his life. So, he said that he remembered how happy he was when I was born, 'cause they'd been trying for over eight years to have a baby and Mum had had two miscarriages. They'd given up hoping and when it actually did happen Dad said he went to the old Roman fort near here, the one with the spring water that I told you about?"

I nod in response, my head resting against his chest.

"Well, he said that after Mum told him about expecting me, he went there and tossed a coin into the spring, making a promise to the goddess Minerva that he would protect and love the gift that she had given them till he had no breath left in his body." Jack's voice started to catch with long pent up emotion. I felt his chest rise as he took in a deep breath. "Dad grabbed me and kind of shook me and I swear that it's the first time I've ever seen him cry, and he said that he knows that I will never do to my son - what he did to me. And that I have to trust, support and believe in my son because I understand the mistake Dad made when I was seventeen and he forced me to leave here and go to Scotland."

We kiss as I brush away his tears with my fingertips, cuddling close together letting the beautiful power of moonlight and words heal old wounds.