Someone to Love Read Free Page B

mind?”
    Alberto shrugged and didn’t answer immediately. He was thoughtful. “I gave up. My father was a famous surgeon, now retired, and he wanted me to continue in his profession,” he answered softly. “In the end, I thank him because I really love my job.”
    I observed the serious expression on his face. A note of regret had appeared in his voice.
    Hearing that story reminded me of when I was an adolescent. I knew perfectly well what it meant to clash with the expectations of one’s family, even though I had succeeded in acheiving my dream.
    Alberto changed the subject and flipped through the file in his hand. “You will have three patients to attend to. One is called Lukas and has had leukaemia for several months, then there is a little girl with deteriorating hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. The last one is an autistic eleven year old boy.”
    I nodded, continuing to follow him. “Do you already know where I can carry out the activities?”
    â€œWeather permitting, the garden is at your disposal and you may organize it as you see fit. It’s not possible to introduce any animal into the patient’s rooms, but there are some common areas that we could equip. What do you think?”
    I tried to fight back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.
    Alberto stood in front of my silence. “All clear?”
    â€œI think so.”
    For a moment our eyes met. Alberto continued to stare at me with a serious look, his eyes were penetrating.
    The sound of his pager broke that moment of embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I really have to go.”
    â€œNo problem, I’ll see you soon. Thank you, Doctor, for your kindness and patience,” I said, holding out my hand.
    A long silence.
    Alberto squeezed it firmly and his face broke into a sweet and seductive smile. “Call me Alberto.”
    I bit my lip and watched him walk away one step at a time until he turned and slipped into one of the rooms. I stood there for a moment wondering what Fiamma would have thought. Certainly he would have passed with flying colours.
    *
    When I got home that evening, my back ached. I sat down on the sofa to catch my breath, stretched my legs and let myself fall into a stupor.
    The sound of nails on the floor startled me. I looked at the clock and realized it was almost time for dinner.
    â€œWhat now?”. I scolded Bubu, who was running impatiently around the room. To be honest, I knew what he wanted. With time, I had learned to recognize every signal.
    â€œCan’t you wait for five minutes? Or better still, you’re free to go out and come back whenever you want, you’re of age now, at least according to the age of dogs,” I muttered, frowning.
    Bubu didn’t seem to like the proposal and jumped on the sofa, scratching my arm with his paw.
    I laughed and hugged him. “Okay, message received and understood. Come on.”
    I pulled on a hooded sweatshirt and took him for a walk.
    I inherited my love for animals from my grandparents. I used to spend entire evenings in my grandfather’s arms, sitting on the sofa watching documentaries and bombarding him with questions like a small machine gun. I was a very talkative little girl.
    I shivered and pulled up the hood, taking care to cover my ears.
    Bubu would stop at every tree to mark his territory.
    The street lamps shed a dim light along the road. Many windows of the houses nearby were lit, illuminating the night. I let myself be carried away by the jazz music that filled my ears from my inseparable iPod. I walked slowly, swaying my hips to the beat, letting my body follow the rhythm of the notes.
    A black car raced by at high speed and stopped in front of the house to the right of mine. At first, it didn’t seem to be slowing down, but then it braked suddenly with a loud grinding of tyres.
    The darkness of the night didn’t help to identify the face of my new neighbour, but I was sure that