Wish Upon a Star

by Sarah Morgan

  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 having 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.

  ‘I just k-keep thinking about B-Bonnie.’ She hiccoughed and he frowned slightly as he stroked her shoulders gently.

  ‘Bonnie? But she’s fine, angel. Doing really well. Thanks to you.’

  Miranda shook her head and tears spilled down her cheeks. ‘She’s not fine. She has a mother too young to look after her and no father. What is her life going to be like?’ She scrubbed the palm of her hand over her cheek and he frowned, helpless to know what to say.

  ‘Angie seemed like a really nice girl and her mother was—’

  ‘Angie is nothing more than a child, Jake!’ She interrupted him, her voice fierce and her eyes glistening with more tears. ‘A child! She should be playing with her friends, doing exams and dreaming about her future, instead of which she’s going to be living the life of an adult. Do you have any idea what it’s like, being a mother at the age of sixteen?’ Her voice shook. ‘Having a baby is daunting at any age but at sixteen it’s nothing short of terrifying. So much responsibility when you’re nothing more than a child yourself. And your whole life is suddenly violently rearranged. You can’t do any of the things you should be doing. Instead of studying, you’re changing nappies. Instead of going out with friends, you’re pushing a pram. So you become isolated and lonely and no one really understands because all the teenagers you know are studying or partying and all the mothers you know are in their thirties, married with other children. No one is like you.’ She broke off, her chest rising and falling, and he studied her face and wondered.

  Even for an extremely tired, pregnant woman, her reaction was a little too emotional. ‘We’re not talking about Angie and Bonnie any more, are we?’ He reached across the table and grabbed the box of tissues that was stacked on top of a pile of unopened post.

  She took the tissue he offered her, blew her nose and then looked away. ‘Ignore me—it’s been a long and stressful night. I should probably go back to bed.’ Her nose was blocked up, her dark lashes were damp from crying and he just wanted to cuddle her.

  ‘You’re never going to sleep in this state. You need to get it off your chest and then perhaps you’ll be able to relax. Talk to me, Miranda. Tell me what’s on your mind.’ He hesitated and then decided to take a risk. ‘I’m wondering why you care so much and I’m wondering why you know so much about it. Did it happen to you? Were you that mother you described so eloquently?’

  ‘The mother?’ She stared at the table and then at him. ‘I wasn’t the mother, Jake. I was the baby.’

  His was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on her pale face. ‘You’re—’

  ‘My mother had me at sixteen. I was the baby.’

  It made sense, of course. The reason she’d been so desperate to find Bonnie’s mother. The way she’d understood Angie’s situation. ‘You were abandoned?’

  Miranda reached for a tissue and blew her nose hard. ‘I was luckier than Bonnie. My mother put me in a box covered in towels. Apparently I was in quite a good condition when I was found. She even wrote a note.’

  Something twisted inside him but he fought the impulse to drag her into his arms. He knew that, right now, she needed to talk. ‘And they traced your mother?’

  She nodded. ‘Oh, yes. It was all very embarrassing for my grandparents. Treasured only daughter suddenly going off the rails. They’d had such high hopes for her. She was top in her class and very pretty. The world was out there, just waiting for her to conquer it. Only she made a mistake and I came along.’ She was silent for a moment, thoughtful. Then she gave a bright smile that was entirely false. ‘But they did the right thing. They took me in and brought me up. I lived with them until my mum married Keith.’

  ‘Was he your father?’

  ‘No. Mum never said who my father was. Maybe she didn’t know. Have you any idea how that feels?’ She looked at him, her expression strangely blank. ‘Sometimes I look in the mirror and I search for him. I think to myself, Are those his eyes? Do I have his mouth? Having no idea where you came from is a strange feeling.’

  ‘But your mum did get married.’

  ‘Oh, yes, she did very well for herself. Keith was a barrister. Great job. Public figure. Very well respected. On the outside, we looked like the perfect family.’ The bitterness in her tone was unmistakable and Jake looked at her, a feeling of foreboding building inside him.

  ‘And on the inside? Tell me about your stepfather.’

  ‘I think he loved my mum. Or at least, his version of love.’ She yanked another tissue out of the box and blew her nose again. ‘Unfortunately he didn’t feel the same way about me. I suppose I was a constant reminder of my mum’s mistake. The one ugly blot on the otherwise perfect canvas of her life. Everything I did was wrong. He had a hideous temper.’

  Jake felt his shoulders tense. ‘How terrible. Are you saying he shouted at you? Or did he…?’

  ‘Hit me? Was that what you wanted to ask?’ She finished his unspoken question and gave a wan smile. ‘Oh, yes. Often. But funnily enough that didn’t upset me as much as his contempt. He so obviously couldn’t stand the sight of me and that really, really hurt.’

  ‘Didn’t anyone know?’

  ‘I didn’t want to tell my friends, if that’s what you mean. And none of them would have believed me anyway. They all thought I was so lucky.’ She blew her nose again. ‘Big house. Fancy holidays. Keith was capable of putting on a very impressive act when he had to but he was always so unpredictable I didn’t dare take anyone home in case he lost his temper. So gradually I became isolated. They thought I was a snob who didn’t want to mix with them. I didn’t know how to make myself popular.’ She twisted the tissue. ‘And I suppose, if I’m honest, I didn’t think I was very likeable. Keith had a way of making you feel pretty rotten about yourself.’

  Jake let out a long breath and ran a hand over his
face. The thought of how she must have suffered made his blood heat to dangerous levels. ‘So that’s why you were so appalled when I hit your landlord.’

  She gave a wan smile. ‘I suppose so. I’m not great with violence of any sort.’

  Jake struggled to control his shock. She didn’t need him to be shocked, she needed him to be supportive. ‘Couldn’t your mother do anything?’

  ‘My mother didn’t want to do anything to wreck her newfound respectability. She was moving in circles that she’d considered totally out of her reach. I mean, imagine it…’ She suddenly sounded older than her years. ‘She left school at sixteen, pregnant, and here she was, married to a rich barrister. Quite an achievement, and my mother was very achievement-focused. All she really cared about was how it looked to other people. Marrying Keith was a way of wiping out the mistakes of her past.’

  ‘She condoned his behaviour?’

  ‘She said he was a very busy man with a stressful job and I ought to try not to annoy him.’

  Jake gritted his teeth. ‘You didn’t tell anyone else? Your teachers? Your GP?’

  ‘My GP was his squash partner.’ Miranda shook her head. ‘No. I just tried not to annoy him. The trouble was, I annoyed him by just being me. So I learned to make myself as invisible as possible and I became very self-reliant.’ She gave a tiny shrug. ‘It’s history now. Please, don’t think I spend all day, every day thinking about it. It’s over. It was over a long time ago and I refuse to be a victim.’

  ‘But clearly you don’t see them any more.’

  She shook her head. ‘I left home as soon as I could and they didn’t try and stop me. It’s affected me, of course it has. I suppose a psychologist would say that’s why I got involved with Peter. Searching for a father figure.’ She gave a smile of wry self-mockery. ‘Ironic, really. In his own way he was about as good a father figure as Keith. In my head I’ve invented this mythical dad.’

  ‘And what’s he like?’