by Sarah Morgan
‘What was that?’
‘What was what?’ Jake gave a shiver and pulled his coat around him. ‘It’s freezing, Miranda. Get in the car, quickly.’
Miranda frowned and glanced around her. ‘I heard something—a weird sound. I’m not sure what it was.’
‘Probably the sound of my teeth chattering.’ Jake grabbed her arm and tried to guide her towards the car but she shrugged him off.
‘Wait. Listen…’ She strained her ears and thought she heard a faint mewing sound. ‘There. I heard it again.’
‘Me, too—a cat, definitely a cat.’
Unconvinced, she turned in the direction of the sound. ‘I don’t know. It didn’t sound much like a cat.’
‘Miranda, for goodness’ sake, it must be below freezing tonight and you’re—’
‘Wait there just for a minute.’ Without giving him time to argue, she hurried back towards the building and into the stairwell. Lying on the ground was a pile of abandoned plastic shopping bags. There was no sign of a cat.
Miranda glanced around her, searching for the animal that had made the noise, but there was nothing. No sound and no movement. Presuming that whatever creature had made the noise had now found refuge somewhere warm, she turned to walk back to Jake when she heard the sound again.
This time there was no mistaking the sound and she ran back towards the plastic bags with a cry of horror. ‘Oh, no! Jake—come quickly.’
‘Miranda, I’ve told you that we need to—’ He broke off as he saw what she was holding. ‘Oh, my God.’ His voice hoarse with disbelief, he dropped to his knees beside her. ‘Is she breathing?’
Choked with horror, Miranda cuddled the tiny baby against her. ‘Yes, but she’s blue with cold. Oh, Jake, someone’s just left her here.’
‘And quite recently, too, by the looks of it.’ Jake’s expression was grim as he glanced around them. ‘She can’t be more than a few minutes old.’
‘We need to look for the mother.’
‘We need to get that baby to hospital,’ Jake said immediately, standing up and punching a series of numbers into his mobile phone. ‘Put her inside your clothes, Miranda, next to your skin. Then go and sit in my car. I’ll turn the heater up.’
Her hands shaking, Miranda did as he instructed, tucking the tiny baby against her chest and then closing her cardigan and her coat around her. ‘She’s freezing, Jake.’
‘I’ve rung Special Care—they’ll have a cot ready if we take her straight there.’
Miranda glanced back over her shoulder towards the darkness of the stairwell. ‘But the mother—’
‘The baby has to be the priority. Once she’s safely in the hands of the paediatricians, we’ll worry about the mother.’ Jake slid the car into gear and drove quickly but carefully towards the hospital.
In no time at all the baby was in an incubator, surrounded by skilled staff all assessing her condition and speculating on her identity.
Miranda and Jake retreated to the tiny staffroom and were in the process of warming themselves up with hot coffee when the police arrived to take statements.
Jake spoke to them and then the consultant paediatrician walked into the room. ‘She’s very cold and dehydrated. It’s a miracle you found her when you did. Any longer and she would have died of hypothermia without any doubt at all.’
The policeman frowned. ‘She wasn’t wrapped up at all?’
Miranda shook her head. ‘Just inside plastic bags.’
‘On a night like this?’ The man’s mouth tightened with disapproval. ‘What must the mother have been thinking?’
Miranda put her coffee down on the table. ‘I don’t suppose she was thinking at all,’ she said quietly, her voice shaking slightly. ‘I expect she was too busy panicking.’
‘Miranda’s right.’ Jake rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, his eyes tired. ‘Whoever the mother is, she was obviously terrified and completely alone. I’m guessing that we’re talking about a teenager and she needs help, possibly urgently. We must try and find her.’
The policeman blinked and then cleared his throat. ‘Of course, yes. You’re right. We’ll arrange for house-to-house enquiries and we’ll contact the news stations and broadcast an appeal.’
The paediatrician looked at Miranda. ‘The nurses wondered if you wanted to give her a name.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes. You found her.’
‘Oh…’ Miranda thought for a moment and then gave a faint smile. ‘Bonnie. She’s such a pretty little thing.’
‘Bonnie, it is.’ The policeman scribbled on his pad. ‘I’ll be in touch. If there’s any change in the baby, give us a call.’
He left the room and Miranda turned to Jake, her expression urgent.
‘We have to try and find her. The mother, I mean.’
His eyes met hers. ‘Miranda, the police are going to do house-to-house enquiries and—’
‘And the police have absolutely no idea what it’s like to be a terrified teenager.’ She glanced towards the paediatrician. ‘Bonnie’s in good hands now. We can’t do any more here.’
Jake’s eyes slid to her abdomen. ‘It’s late, you’re tired—’
‘I couldn’t possibly sleep knowing that a poor teenager is out there somewhere, terrified and possibly bleeding.’ Her hands clenched into fists and Jake’s eyes rested on her face.
‘You don’t know it’s a teenager.’
She knew he was wondering why her reaction was so extreme but she didn’t care. And she certainly didn’t intend to offer an explanation. ‘Jake!’
‘All right.’ He muttered something else under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. ‘We’ll go back to the flats and have a look around. But just for an hour. After that we’re going home.’
Two police cars were parked outside the flats and Jake pulled up behind them while Miranda turned up her collar and wrapped her scarf round her neck.
‘Do you have a torch?’
‘Glove compartment.’
Miranda reached inside and tucked the torch in her pocket. ‘Come on. Let’s go.’ She climbed out of the car and walked away from the flats, the beam of light from the torch flickering in front of her.
‘Go where, exactly?’ Fastening the buttons of his coat, Jake strode after her. ‘Don’t you think we should start by looking around the flats?’
‘That’s what the police are doing and I just don’t think that’s where she’s going to be.’
‘Why not? That was where she left the baby.’
‘Because she wanted it to be found! But that doesn’t mean that she wants to be found. Think about it, Jake! If she wanted her pregnancy to be made public then she would have turned up at an antenatal clinic. It’s far more likely that she’s avoiding people. Maybe she lives there, maybe her parents live there, but at the moment I think she’s huddled in an alleyway somewhere, trying to work out what to do,’ Miranda reasoned as she crossed the road and walked away from the flats. ‘I don’t believe she’s in the flats.’
‘You’ve missed your vocation.’ Jake watched her with fascination as he kept pace. ‘Have you been watching crime programmes in your spare time?’
‘I don’t have any spare time. I have work time and sleep time.’ Miranda stopped dead, her frown slightly impatient as she tried to focus her mind. She looked around her, searching for inspiration, trying to think like a frightened teenager. ‘What would you do, Jake? Think. You leave your baby somewhere where you know it’s going to be found because you want it to be found.’
‘Do you?’ Jake scratched his head, trying to follow her train of thought. ‘Miranda, perhaps we should leave this to the police. They have—’
‘The park.’ Miranda grabbed his arm and hurried along the road. ‘I bet she’s in the park.’
‘This place has a park?’ Jake glanced around him doubtfully and Miranda looked at him impatiently.
‘It’s where all the teenagers hang out. I’ve seen them.’ She was half running now, her torch w
inking in the darkness. She pushed open the gate and paused.
Jake peered into the soupy darkness. ‘She’s not here.’
‘You don’t know that.’ Miranda let the gate go and walked further into the park. ‘This is just the play area for the little ones. Further in are bushes and trees. That’s where the teenagers hang out. It’s where they go to smoke.’
‘How do you know all this?’
But before she could answer, Jake grabbed her arm. ‘Over there.’ He kept his voice low and pointed. ‘To the right. Do you see it?’
Miranda followed the direction of his gaze and nodded. ‘It’s a person. Sitting on the ground. Oh, Jake, I’m sure that’s her—’
‘It might be nothing. Just a drunk. Miranda, you stay here and I’ll go and see who it is.’
‘No way. How is she going to react to being approached by a six-foot-two man she doesn’t know?’ Miranda shrugged him off and hurried across to the figure. ‘Hello?’ She swung the torch and the light suddenly illuminated a blotched, miserable face.
‘G-go away.’ The girl’s voice was weak. ‘I wanna be on my own.’
Miranda immediately dropped the torch and went down on her knees. ‘I’m from the hospital. A midwife. We found a baby near here. Was it yours, sweetheart?’
Perhaps it was the endearment or just the relief of being found, but the girl started to sob quietly and the sound had a desperate quality that tore holes in Miranda’s heart.
‘Don’t cry.’ She slid her arms round the girl and held her. ‘Please, don’t cry. We’re going to help you. I promise we’ll help you.’
‘I didn’t know what was happening!’ The girl choked and sobbed, her words at times almost unintelligible as she talked. ‘It hurt. It hurt so much and now the police are there.’ The girl hiccoughed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. ‘And I know the baby’s dead and I’ll go to prison. I killed her.’
‘You won’t go to prison. And she isn’t dead. You haven’t killed anyone.’
The girl was so distressed that she wasn’t listening. ‘She came out all blue and messy and I knew she was dead so I left her on the bags. I didn’t know what else to do.’
‘She isn’t dead. Babies sometimes look a bit funny when they’re born, that’s all,’ Miranda soothed, still holding the girl. ‘She’s beautiful and she’s safely in hospital and that’s exactly where you should go now. There are people there who will help you.’
Jake crouched down next to her and the girl shrank away, noticing him for the first time.
‘Is he a cop?’
‘No, he’s a doctor. What’s your name?’
The girl sniffed. ‘Angie. Is the baby really OK?’ Her voice was small and she sounded very, very young. ‘I didn’t want anything to happen to it. I was terrified when I thought it was dead.’
‘She— The baby’s a little girl. Angie,’ Miranda’s voice was gentle. ‘Come to hospital with us now and we can make sure you’re all right. Then someone will come and talk to you about the baby and you can decide what you want to do.’
‘I can’t keep her.’ There was a note of panic in Angie’s voice and Miranda hugged her.
‘You’re not in a fit state to make big decisions like that at the moment. You need help and I’m going to see that you get it. How old are you?’
‘Sixteen.’ Angie scrubbed at her face with the back of her hand. ‘And I don’t want to go to hospital. They’d tell my dad.’
‘And would that be such a bad thing?’
‘I dunno.’ Angie sniffed again. ‘I wanted to tell my mum but I was too scared. But now I just want to talk to her. I don’t even care if she shouts at me. Will you ring her for me if I give you the number?’
‘Let’s get you to hospital,’ Miranda said firmly, ‘and once we know that you’re fine, we’ll help you with everything else.’
CHAPTER NINE
THE police were informed and Miranda stayed with Jake while he examined Angie and then waited until her parents arrived.
‘Don’t leave me,’ Angie begged in a terrified voice, gripping Miranda’s hand so tightly that she was given no choice in the matter. Not that she would have left.
Despite Jake’s constant reminders that it was really late, that she was tired and should go home, she sat by Angie and talked to her, soothing and reassuring, unable to leave until she was sure that the young girl had someone with her who would care for her and offer the support she so badly needed.
The young teenager had calmed down and was sitting quietly when the door opened and a midwife came in, accompanied by Angie’s mother.
Her hair was tangled and she’d obviously been woken from sleep and had dragged on the first clothes that came to hand. But there was no missing the worry in her eyes when she saw her daughter.
‘Ange?’
Miranda felt a lump in her throat. What did the future hold for both of them? How would they manage? What would happen to Bonnie, currently lying in her cot, unaware that her whole future lay in the balance?
‘Mum?’ Angie’s voice shook and she sounded like a very young girl. Nothing like the mother of a child. ‘I’m really, really sorry…’
‘I don’t believe this! What have you been doing?’Her mother covered her mouth with her hand and Angie’s face crumpled.
‘I’m sorry,’ she sobbed, ‘I’m so, so sorry. Please, don’t be angry. Please, don’t yell. I didn’t mean it to happen. I didn’t know it would happen.’ Her sobs were so pitiful that Miranda felt her own eyes fill with tears and she held the shaking girl, ready to defend her if necessary.
But it wasn’t necessary.
Her mother crossed the room in a flash, tears pouring down her cheeks as she went to her daughter.
‘There…’ Her voice was choked. ‘Don’t cry, pet. Mummy’s here and everything is going to be all right. We’ll sort everything out. You should have told me. You should have told me, you silly thing.’
Angie sobbed and sobbed, her face blotched and swollen with crying. ‘I didn’t know how. I thought you’d be so mad with me. Dad’s going to kill me.’ She clung to her mother who shook her head slowly.
‘Your dad’s not going to kill anyone. He’s just worried about you, love. We all are. I wish you’d told us. How did I not notice?’ She glanced at Miranda with helpless confusion on her face, still visibly shocked by the circumstances. ‘I thought she was putting on some weight so I’ve been encouraging her to eat a bit less, but it just never occurred to me…’
‘You probably weren’t looking for it,’ Miranda said quietly, and the older woman gave a weary smile.
‘Being a parent is the hardest thing in the world.’ She stroked her daughter’s hair with a gentle hand and instinctively Miranda knew what she was thinking. That her daughter was now a parent, too.
Angie sniffed. ‘I don’t know what to do, Mum.’
‘What do you want to do, love? Whatever you choose, we’ll support you.’
Miranda felt warmth and admiration spread through her. Lucky Angie, she thought to herself. Her mother wasn’t trying to take over or dictate. She was trying to help her daughter make grown-up decisions by herself.
‘I want to keep her.’ Angie looked at her mother uncertainly. ‘That’s stupid, isn’t it? I haven’t even seen her yet but I know I want to keep her. When I thought she was dead I couldn’t stop crying and now I know she’s alive—’
‘Why is it stupid?’ Her mother straightened her shoulders. ‘She’s our flesh and blood. There’ll be enough willing helpers, that’s for sure. Of course we’re going to keep her. She’s family.’
* * *
It was two o’clock by the time Jake managed to persuade Miranda to leave, and he was worried by how drained and exhausted she looked.
‘Are you all right? You haven’t said a word since we left the hospital.’ Knowing that she hadn’t eaten since lunchtime, Jake made a mug of hot chocolate because he knew she loved it. ‘Drink this and then go to bed. I’ve already agreed with Ruth that you’re ha
ving tomorrow off. And just to make sure that you don’t lift a finger, I’m having tomorrow off, too. After tonight’s events, I think we both deserve it.’
‘OK.’ She didn’t seem to be listening to him. And she didn’t touch the hot chocolate—just stared into the mug and watched a skin form on the milk.
Deciding that sleep was the priority, he gently eased the mug from her hands and pulled her to her feet.
‘You need to go to bed.’ He led her up the stairs, opened her bedroom door and gently nudged her inside. ‘You did brilliantly with Angie, by the way. She’s going to be all right now.’
‘Is she? What about the baby?’
He frowned. ‘The baby is doing well, Miranda. Thanks to the fact that you discovered her so quickly, she’s going to be fine.’
‘But what sort of life will she have?’ Miranda turned to look at him and her dark eyes were huge and sad. ‘Goodnight, Jake.’ She closed the door, leaving him on the outside battling with a powerful inclination to go back inside and drag her into his arms.
He stared at the closed door, trying to work out what was going on in her mind.
What had she meant by that comment about the baby?
He ran a hand over the back of his neck, trying to decide what to do. She was tired, he reasoned, and pregnant women were always more emotional when they were tired.
The best thing was for her to have a good night’s sleep.
They could talk in the morning.
He strolled into his bedroom and glanced at the clock with a humourless laugh. It was already morning.
He went to bed and woke suddenly to darkness and the sound of noises coming from the kitchen.
Miranda?
Tugging on his jeans, he padded downstairs.
She was sitting at the table with her head in her hands. Her dark hair flopped forward, hiding her face from his view, but he knew from the movement of her shoulders that she was crying. He swore softly under his breath and went straight to her, dragging out the chair next to her and sitting down.
‘Miranda?’ He put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. ‘Sweetheart, what’s wrong?’
For a long moment she didn’t answer and then she lifted her head and the pain in her eyes shocked him.
