it?’
Again that disconcerting silence; Hope glanced at her husband. This time he nodded and she began to speak.
‘I’m going to confide in you,’ she said, ‘because we trust you, and we both think that you must learn the secret.’
‘Secret?’ Ferne echoed.
‘It’s a terrible one and it weighs on us. We try not to believe it, but the truth is—’ She took a deep breath and spoke with difficulty. ‘The truth is that Dante might be dying.’
‘What?’ Ferne whispered, aghast. ‘Did you say—?’
‘Dying. If that should happen, and we could have done something to prevent it and had not—But he will not have it spoken of, you see, and we don’t know what to do.’
Ferne forcibly pulled herself together.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘He must know if he’s ill or not.’
She could hear fearful echoes in her head. They were filled with warnings and told her that she was about to discover the dark secret that made Dante unlike other men.
‘On his mother’s side, he’s a Linelli,’ Hope explained. ‘And that family has a hereditary problem. There can be a weak blood vessel in the brain that can suddenly start to bleed. Then the victim will collapse, perhaps go into a coma, perhaps die.’
‘This has happened to several of them over the years,’ Toni said. ‘Some have died, but even the ones who survived have often been unlucky. His Uncle Leo suffered a major haemorrhage. His life was saved by surgery, but his brain was damaged. Now he’s little more than a child, and to Dante he’s an awful warning. He refuses even to consider that he might have inherited this illness and need treatment.’
‘But has there ever been any sign?’ Ferne asked. ‘Or are you just afraid because it’s hereditary? After all, not everyone in the family will have it.’
‘True, but there was one frightening moment about two years ago. He had a headache so bad that he became confused and dizzy. This can mean a minor rupture of the blood vessel, and if that’s ignored it can lead to a major one. But he insisted that he was perfectly recovered, and nothing else has happened since. That might mean nothing is wrong, or it might mean that he’s been very, very lucky. He could go on being lucky for years, or…’ Hope broke off with a sigh.
‘But wouldn’t it be better to find out?’ Ferne asked.
‘He doesn’t want to know,’ Toni said sombrely. ‘He isn’t afraid of death, but he is afraid of surgery, in case he ends up like Leo. His attitude is that, if death comes, it comes.’
‘Doing the quick-step with fate,’ Ferne murmured.
‘What was that?’
‘Something I’ve heard him say. I didn’t understand it before. But I can’t believe he’ll go so far. Surely he’ll be better having a diagnosis?’
‘He’s determined not to,’ Hope said in despair. ‘He doesn’t want the family pressuring him to have surgery, even though it might not be so much of a risk. Surgical techniques have greatly improved since Leo’s operation nearly thirty years ago, and Dante could easily come out of it well and whole,but he won’t take the chance. He wants to get the best out of life while he can, and then, well…’
She gave a despairing sigh. Ferne was transfixed. This was worse than anything she’d feared.
‘If only we knew for sure, but there’s no way to be quite certain,’ Hope resumed. ‘Unless there’s a definite symptom, like a dizzy spell. Have you ever seen him grow faint without warning?’
‘Yes,’ Ferne said, remembering with horror. ‘He seemed to get dizzy when he was coming down the ladder when he saved the dog. But it seemed natural after what he’d been through—all that smoke.’
‘It probably was natural,’ Hope agreed. ‘And his headache tonight is probably natural, just a delayed reaction to what he went through. But we always wonder. It’s hard to say anything for fear of enraging him.’
‘Yes, I’ve seen that,’ Ferne murmured. ‘I wanted him to