Her Festive Doorstep Baby. Kate Hardy

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СКАЧАТЬ see Josh again for weeks. That frisson of desire she’d felt when his skin had brushed against hers was utterly ridiculous, and she needed to be sensible about this instead of moping for something she couldn’t have.

      Josh tested the temperature of the water with his elbow. ‘OK. Time for your first bath, little one.’

      At the first touch of the water, the baby screamed the place down. Even Josh looked fraught by the time he’d finished bathing her, and Amy’s teeth were on edge.

      The screams abated to grizzling once the baby was out of the bath and wrapped in the warm towel.

      ‘She’s hungry, probably,’ Josh said.

      Amy’s heart contracted sharply. ‘Poor little mite.’ And how desperate the baby’s mother must’ve been to abandon her.

      Between them they managed to get the baby into the nappy and sleep suit, and Josh rocked the baby and crooned softly to her while Amy sterilised one of the bottles he’d bought and warmed the formula milk in a jug of hot water. And then it was her turn to cuddle the baby and feed her.

      Sitting there, with the baby cradled on her lap, watching her drink greedily from the bottle of milk, really tugged at Amy’s heart.

      If she’d been less clueless about Gavin’s real character—or, better still, hadn’t dated him in the first place—her life could have been so different. She could’ve been sitting here cuddling her own baby, next to the man of her dreams. Instead, here she was, desperately trying to fill her life with work, and right now she was holding a baby she’d have to give back.

      She couldn’t help glancing at Josh. His expression was unreadable but, before he masked it, she saw definite pain in his eyes. He’d said that he was an uncle of three, but she had a feeling there was a bit more to it than that.

      Had he lost a child?

      Had someone broken his heart?

      Not that it was any of her business. He was her neighbour. They knew next to nothing about each other. And that was the way things were in London. You avoided eye contact as much as you could, smiled and nodded politely if you couldn’t avoid eye contact, and you most definitely didn’t get involved.

      The baby fell asleep almost the second after she’d finished her feed. Amy folded up a towel as a makeshift bed and placed the baby on it, covering her with another towel. She’d just tucked the baby in when her intercom buzzed.

      Thankfully the noise didn’t wake the baby. ‘Hello?’

      ‘It’s the police. PC Graham and PC Walters.’

      She buzzed them in.

      One of them was carrying a sturdy metal case, which she presumed contained forensic equipment, and the other had a notebook.

      ‘I like the scene-of-crime tape improvisation in the lobby,’ the first policeman said with a smile. ‘I assume you’d like the bandages back when I’ve finished?’

      Josh smiled back. ‘No. It’s fine to get rid of them. Do you think you’ll get anything to help you track down the baby’s mother?’

      ‘I’ll go and dust the area now,’ the first policeman said, ‘while my colleague PC Graham here goes through everything with you.’

      ‘Shall I put the kettle on?’ Amy asked.

      ‘That’d be lovely. Thank you,’ PC Walters said, heading out of the door with his case.

      ‘Mr and Mrs Howes, isn’t it?’ PC Graham asked.

      ‘Ms Howes and Mr Farnham,’ she corrected. ‘We’re neighbours.’

      ‘I see.’ He made a note. ‘Would you mind taking me through what happened?’

      Between them, Amy and Josh filled in all the details of how they’d found the baby.

      ‘I’m a doctor,’ Josh said. ‘I’ve checked the baby over, and she’s fine. I think from all the vernix on her face—that’s the white stuff—she’s a couple of weeks early, and I have a feeling the mum might be quite young. I’d be a lot happier if you could find the mum and get her checked over, too, because she’s at a high risk of infection.’

      ‘It might take a while to find her,’ PC Graham said.

      ‘I’m afraid we had to give the baby a bath,’ Amy added. ‘She didn’t have a nappy or any clothes, just the blanket, and the blanket got a bit, um, messy. I haven’t washed it yet, in case you need it for forensics, but I’ve put it in a plastic bag.’

      ‘Thank you. So you didn’t recognise the voice over the intercom?’ PC Graham asked.

      ‘Nobody spoke,’ Amy said. ‘I just assumed it was a courier. Then I heard what sounded like a baby’s cry. I don’t know why, but some instinct made me go out and see for myself.’

      ‘Just as well you did,’ the policeman said. ‘And you don’t know anyone who might have left the baby here?’

      ‘I don’t know anyone who’s pregnant,’ Amy said. Mainly because she’d distanced herself from all her friends and colleagues who’d been trying for a baby, once she’d found out that she could no longer have children herself. It had been too painful being reminded of what she’d lost.

      ‘So what happens now?’ Josh asked.

      ‘Once the social worker’s here, she’ll take the baby to the hospital,’ the policeman said.

      Josh shook his head. ‘I don’t really think that’s a good idea. Right now, the children’s ward is stuffed full of little ones with bronchiolitis.’

      ‘Bronchi-what?’ PC Graham asked.

      ‘Bronchiolitis. It’s a virus,’ Josh explained. ‘If adults catch it they get a really stinking cold, but in babies the mucus gums up the tiny airways in the lungs—the bronchioles—and they can’t breathe or feed properly. Usually they end up being on oxygen therapy and being tube-fed for a week. And I really wouldn’t want a newborn catching it—at that age it’s likely to be really serious.’

      ‘What about the general ward?’ PC Graham asked. ‘Could they look after her there?’

      Josh shook his head. ‘At this time of year the winter vomiting virus and flu are both doing the rounds in all the wards. As a newborn, she’s at high risk of picking up either or both.’

      The policeman shrugged and spread his hands. ‘Then I don’t know. We’ll see what the social worker says when she gets here.’

      By the time Amy had made mugs of tea, PC Walters was back from his forensic examination of the hallway.

      ‘Did you manage to get anything?’ Amy asked.

      ‘A smudged footprint, but no fingerprints. Hopefully we’ll get something from the box she left the baby in.’ PC Walters looked at Amy’s pale beige carpet. ‘Though I’m afraid fingerprint powder’s a bit messy.’

      ‘It doesn’t matter. It won’t take that long СКАЧАТЬ