The Firefighters Baby

by Roberts, Alison

  ‘It’s pretty newly hatched, I’d say. Two or three weeks?’

  Laura caught her breath but her reaction had nothing to do with the thought of such a young baby being abandoned. She had just realised why the baby’s face was so fascinating.

  The eyes weren’t really that dark. They were blue, certainly. A lovely sort of cornflower blue. They gave the initial appearance of darkness because of the edging to the iris, which was a shade deep enough to compete with the pupil. Why had nobody else noticed such an obvious genetic link to a potential parent in this group of men? There was only one person who had eyes like that.

  And they were exactly like that.

  Another frisson of an unidentifiable emotion caught Laura unexpectedly. Jealousy, perhaps? No. It was more like a feeling of connection to that baby. A longing to touch it. To pick it up. When the little fist was suddenly flung free of the sucking mouth and a tiny face crumpled and reddened she had no hesitation in reaching into the box.

  Nobody else was going to do it, she told herself. The men were backing off in alarm at the deterioration in the baby’s mood. At her touch, the screwed-up face relaxed and the tiny fist unfurled to encompass her finger. Laura smiled into a carbon copy of Jason Halliday’s eyes.

  ‘Hello, there,’ she whispered.

  Only a few short minutes had passed since Mrs McKendry had dropped this bombshell in their midst but it was very unusual that the older woman had not yet said more than she had. Nobody was surprised to hear her begin to issue some firm instructions.

  ‘Sit down at this table—every last one of you. I don’t care if half of Wellington burns to the ground. You’re no’ going anywhere till we get to the bottom of this.’

  Amazingly, the whole group of burly, dedicated firefighters complied. They were all out of their depth right now and it clearly came as a relief for their self-appointed surrogate mother to take charge.

  ‘We should call the police,’ Bruce suggested mildly. ‘It’s a criminal offence to leave a baby unattended.’

  The look he received questioned his level of intelligence rather eloquently. ‘Whoever left this bairn had reason to think it would be attended to.’

  A dainty foot tapped on linoleum in the silence that followed.

  ‘And there can be only one explanation for that. One of you is this baby’s father.’

  ‘You’re lucky.’ Jason’s comment was directed at Laura, who, along with Mrs McKendry, was the only person now standing. ‘It can’t be yours. I think we would have noticed.’

  The chuckle of appreciation at the attempt to lift the atmosphere was short-lived and it hadn’t even raised a smile as far as Laura was concerned. Carrying a full-term baby may well have made her large enough for Jason to notice. In fact, it was probably the only way he’d really notice her as a woman.

  As though her resentment was contagious, the baby emitted a fractious cry and Laura did what she’d been wanting to do ever since she’d first seen what was in the box. She scooped the baby up and cradled it in her arms.

  It was crying in earnest now and there was no doubt it was well overdue for a nappy change but Laura didn’t mind. The slight weight of the infant in her arms triggered an instinctive and remarkably fierce desire to protect and comfort it. She rocked her noisy, smelly bundle and directed soothing words towards its ear. The words she spoke were unimportant. So was what was being said around her for the next few moments.

  The first Red Watch arrivals to take over the day shift started to form a secondary tier of astonished spectators. As far as these men were concerned they were not involved. The baby had been left during the night, therefore it had to be someone on Green Watch who was implicated as the father. Some even found the situation highly amusing.

  ‘No wonder someone left it on the doorstep. Noisy little bugger, isn’t it?’

  ‘Don’t get too close. It doesn’t smell great either.’

  ‘Let’s put it back where Mrs Mack found it.’ The speaker suddenly thought of an urgent job that needed attending to as he felt the heat of Jean McKendry’s glare.

  ‘I still think we should call the police,’ Bruce said heavily. ‘Or Social Welfare. We can’t sit here all day, Mrs M. We’ve had a busy night shift and what we need is some sleep.’

  ‘What she needs is feeding,’ Laura informed them. How she knew it was a girl was not questioned.

  ‘Bacon and eggs?’ Jason suggested hopefully. They all looked at Mrs McKendry but any prospect of a cooked breakfast evaporated instantly on reading her face.

  ‘I’ll make some toast,’ someone on Red Watch offered. ‘Have you guys cleaned the truck?’

  ‘We’re not allowed to move,’ Stick responded gloomily. ‘Not until one of us owns up to fathering this kid.’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Red Watch members were backing away now. ‘We’ll do it.’

  The new crew for the ambulance day shift was equally co-operative. Helpful, even.

  ‘We could go out and find some formula or something at the supermarket.’

  The pager messages signalling a priority-one callout to a chest pain put an end to that scheme. Within another few minutes the hooter sounded to alert the fire crew.

  ‘Alarm sounding at a warehouse on the corner of George and Matton streets,’ the loudspeaker announced. ‘Smoke seen to be coming from the rear of the building.’

  Green Watch members could see the departing vehicles through the dining-room’s window. They listened to the fading sirens with almost defeated expressions.

  ‘This isn’t getting us anywhere,’ Bruce declared finally. ‘Look, Mrs M. If one of us had any idea that we were related to this baby we would have said so by now.’

  Raised eyebrows and pursed lips suggested that this was not necessarily an accurate assumption.

  ‘Half of us are married. We’ve got families of our own.’

  ‘Precisely. A good reason not to confess, wouldn’t you say?’

  Laura was jiggling an increasingly unhappy infant now. No one knew how long this baby had been outside in the box. It might have been hours since its last feed. Her reluctance to cast the first stone was wearing thinner by the minute. If this carried on any longer she was going to open her mouth and point out the obvious. Why hadn’t anyone else noticed yet? She shifted the baby’s weight slightly and became aware that the patch of blanket under her arm was distinctly damp.

  ‘Stick, could you get that other blanket out of the box?’ Laura asked. ‘She’s leaking a bit and getting cold won’t make her any happier.’

  ‘Hope you’ve got gloves on.’ Jason blinked at the look he received from Laura. ‘Hey! What have I done?’

  He found out soon enough. As Stick pulled the folded fleece from the box his eyes widened.

  ‘There’s stuff in here,’ he exclaimed. ‘A bottle and a tin of baby food. There’s nappies and—What the hell is this?’

  The piece of paper said it all. Officially stamped by the authority vested in the registrar of births, deaths and marriages, it gave all the information Mrs McKendry had been waiting for. She peered at the certificate and then transferred a steely gaze to one of the men staring anxiously back.

  ‘Jason Halliday. What have you got to say for yourself now?’

  ‘Huh?’

  The piece of paper was passed along the table and everyone had scanned it by the time Bruce handed it to Jason.

  ‘Here you go…Dad.’

  Jason’s colour had faded to give his bewilderment a decidedly pale background. He stared at the birth certificate, with his name handwritten on the empty line for ‘Father’s Name’, for a seemingly interminable length of time. It became too long for his audience.

  ‘Megan’s a nice name,’ Cliff said hesitantly.

  ‘It’s her one-month birthday today,’ Bruce added.

  ‘She was born in England,’ Stick said kindly. ‘You can’t really be blamed for having missed the big event, Jase.’

  Laura said nothing. She reached into the box and extracted a disp
osable nappy, some wipes and a clean stretchsuit. She could still see Jason when she moved towards one of the couches to find room to put the baby down. She could see growing consternation replacing shocked disbelief.

  ‘So.’ Mrs McKendry looked up from where she was reading the instructions on the tin of formula. ‘I take it you were no’ informed about this baby’s existence, Jason?’

  ‘No. Someone’s made a mistake.’ Jason rested his forehead on the palms of both hands. ‘A really big mistake.’

  Bruce reached for the certificate again. ‘The mother’s name is Shelley. Shelley Bates.’

  ‘I don’t know any Shelleys,’ Jason said miserably. ‘Never have.’

  ‘It says here that her occupation is a model.’

  Laura wasn’t the only one to see how well that fitted.

  ‘You’ve been out with plenty of models, Jase.’

  ‘I don’t sleep with them all,’ Jason said defensively. ‘In fact, I haven’t had a good s—’ He stopped abruptly, glanced up at Mrs McKendry who was still standing at the other end of the table, groaned and buried his face in his hands again. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he muttered.

  Laura disagreed. She was very interested to hear that Jason didn’t have sex with every female that gave him the opportunity. She stuck down the tabs to hold the fresh nappy secure. She would also very much like to know how long it had been since he’d had a good…whatever crude noun he’d been tempted to use to describe the experience. It couldn’t have been more than ten months ago, that was for sure.

  ‘I guess we’re off the hook.’ Bruce yawned. ‘We could go home now, eh, Mrs Mack?’

  ‘No!’ Jason’s face appeared again. ‘I don’t know anyone called Shelley and I haven’t been in England for six years. This has to be a mistake.’

  ‘Why would someone make a mistake like that?’

  ‘Maybe it didn’t happen in England,’ Cliff said thoughtfully. ‘Maybe Shelley whoever she is was in New Zealand on holiday.’

  ‘A holiday with Halliday.’ Stick chuckled. His smile faded rapidly as he realised his quip was not appreciated.

  ‘I don’t care where Shelley was. Or who she was with. It wasn’t me.’

  ‘The bairn’s four weeks old.’ Mrs McKendry had moved to the kitchen bench and was spooning formula into the bottle. ‘That means she was conceived about nine to ten months ago.’

  ‘December,’ Stick said helpfully. ‘No…more like late January.’

  ‘Let’s say New Year, give or take a week or two.’

  ‘Can you remember that far back, Jase?’

  ‘You were going out with Britney,’ Cliff declared. ‘I remember her. Red hair and legs up to her—’

  ‘That was March. We broke up at Easter when we had an argument about chocolate bunnies.’

  ‘OK, what about Melissa? You know, the one with those Pamela Anderson—’

  ‘She was after Britney,’ Jason interrupted swiftly. ‘I think.’

  ‘No…I’m sure she was the one that came to that barbecue we had on the beach in February. Yellow bikini?’

  Laura hadn’t forgotten that yellow bikini—or the assets it had supported. She glanced up from fastening the snaps on the stretchsuit, intending to direct a ‘you know you deserve everything that’s coming’ glance, but to her astonishment, the tips of Jason’s ears were bright pink. Good grief—the man was embarrassed!

  He should be ashamed of himself if he couldn’t even remember the order or names of the string of women in his life. Maybe this was the first occasion he’d ever had to consider the repercussions of such an active social life. Or maybe he was disturbed by the wider picture he was currently having to confront. In any case, Laura liked the fact that he was embarrassed. She picked up the baby again and her lips curved into a smile against the soft wisps of blonde hair.

  ‘Daddy’s blushing,’ she whispered. ‘How about that?’

  ‘Daddy’ was still fielding a list of potential conquests that might have had confusing names.

  ‘What about Charlotte?’

  ‘Sounds a bit like Shelley.’

  Despite the spotlight being so firmly on Jason, even Bruce, who was stifling frequent yawns, was not about to leave his fellow firefighter in the lurch and go home for some well-deserved rest. Stick shook his head sorrowfully.

  ‘This should be a lesson to us all. Anyone could just scribble in our names on some bloody birth certificate.’

  ‘Speak for yourself, mate. I’m happily married.’

  ‘DNA,’ Cliff said with relief. ‘You could get a test, Jase, and prove it’s not yours.’

  ‘That could take weeks! What the hell am I supposed to do with it in the meantime?’

  ‘Maybe the mother’s only gone shopping or something. She could be back any minute.’

  ‘Yeah, right. Like she’s come all the way from England for a spot of shopping and she leaves the baby on a doorstep in the middle of the night so she doesn’t have to bother finding a babysitter.’

  Laura sat down at the table and Mrs McKendry silently handed her the bottle of formula. Tentatively, she poked the teat into the baby’s mouth and to her delight it was accepted enthusiastically.

  ‘Well, that’s a blessing,’ Mrs McKendry said. ‘At least she’s used to a bottle.’

  Laura could feel the rhythmic tug of the sucking movements. The baby’s wide-eyed gaze fastened onto hers as though she was receiving the nourishment via some kind of visual connection. Laura found herself smiling.

  ‘Oh…she’s gorgeous!’

  ‘Aye.’ Jean McKendry’s expression softened noticeably. Then she pushed her spectacles more firmly onto the bridge of her nose and leaned a little closer to peer at the baby’s face.

  ‘It was Sharon!’ Jason announced.

  ‘What was?’

  ‘The woman who’s set me up. It has to be.’ Jason nodded to confirm his own statement. ‘A girl from England that I met when I had that summer holiday in the Coromandel.’

  ‘Sure it wasn’t Shelley?’

  Jason frowned in concentration. ‘She had a sister and I remember that their names were alike enough to be confusing. It was a bit of a joke and they didn’t mind when I got it wrong.’ Jason nodded again, more slowly this time. ‘That must be where this has come from. Sharon’s sister has had a baby and they’ve decided to name me as the father.’

  ‘Maybe they want to emigrate or something,’ Cliff suggested.

  ‘Of course, that’s what it’ll be. It’s pretty hard to get into the country and having a New Zealand father for a child is probably a great start.’

  ‘Marrying the New Zealand father would have been a much safer plan,’ Laura said dryly. ‘I mean, writing in your name like that doesn’t make you the legal father. Why didn’t she turn up months ago?’

  ‘Dunno.’ Jason shrugged. ‘Maybe the sisters didn’t get together and come up with the plan until after the baby was born.’

  ‘How much alike did these sisters look, Jase?’

  ‘Identical. They were twins. Long blonde hair and cute accents. Young, though. I think they were only about nineteen.’ Jason rubbed the back of his neck as though something was hurting. ‘I suppose it could have been Shelley. Names didn’t actually seem that important at the time.’

  The sniff that emanated from Mrs McKendry’s direction was an expression of frank disapproval.

  ‘It was only one night,’ Jason sighed. ‘There was this big beach party. Hey, I was on holiday. You’re supposed to have a good time on holiday!’

  ‘Not that good,’ Stick said enviously.

  ‘And not with twins!’ Tim sounded appalled.

  ‘It wasn’t with both of them. It was…I was…Oh, hell.’ Jason closed his eyes with apparent exhaustion. ‘It doesn’t matter. I can’t be the father.’ He stood up. ‘You were right, Bruce. Let’s hand this problem to the police. For all we know this baby’s been abducted and the birth certificate is some sort of nasty practical joke.’

  ‘It’s no joke.’ Mrs Mc
Kendry had simply been waiting for a gap in the rapid-fire conversation between the men. ‘And you might as well stop your havering, Jason Halliday. This bairn is yours.’

  ‘How can you say that?’ Jason’s astonishment at being betrayed by someone he trusted was directed at Mrs McKendry only briefly. Then it was transferred to Laura. ‘You think it’s mine, too, don’t you?’

  Laura nodded. ‘It’s as plain as the nose on your face, I’m afraid, Jase. Or should I say the eyes.’

  ‘What about them?’ Jason asked faintly.

  ‘Come and have a look.’

  They all came and had a look. They stared at baby Megan and then at Jason. And one by one they all nodded slowly.

  ‘It doesn’t matter if it was Sharon or Shelley or bloody Madonna,’ Stick said sadly. ‘Yep. This kid’s yours, all right, Jase.’

  Laura couldn’t help it. ‘The eyes have it,’ she murmured.

  Jason wasn’t amused. ‘Lots of people have eyes with rings around them.’

  ‘No.’ Laura was careful to keep her tone perfectly neutral. ‘Your eyes are actually quite unusual, Jase. And Megan’s are a carbon copy.’

  Jason sank into the chair opposite Laura. ‘What am I going to do?’

  You had to feel sorry for him, Laura decided. For someone like Jason who played almost as hard as he worked and made no secret of intending to enjoy his bachelor status for as long as possible, this had to be his worst nightmare. He looked defeated right now. Lost. And Laura couldn’t help offering a sympathetic smile. Jason’s forlorn gaze locked onto hers as though encouraging her to say something that might make this whole mess go away.

  But it was Mrs McKendry who spoke and she wasn’t going to let Jason off any hook. ‘You’re going to take responsibility for your child, that’s what you’re going to do,’ she said crisply. ‘Laura, hand the baby over to its father.’

  ‘No! I’ll drop it.’

  ‘Don’t be such a gowk,’ Mrs McKendry snapped. ‘Laura?’

  She felt like an executioner but Mrs Mack was right. This was Jason’s baby. His problem. He was now in such a shocked state he simply accepted the bundle Laura placed carefully into his arms. Then he stared at the baby’s face with an even more forlorn expression.