A Forever Family: Their Christmas Delivery
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‘Does she look as if she’s put on weight?’
‘A little bit, but body image is a really sensitive area for teens, and I guessed she might be comfort-eating if she wasn’t happy at home,’ Amy said. ‘Drawing attention to it would only have made her feel worse, and the last thing I wanted was for her to start starving herself or taking diet pills. I was going to have a chat with her in the New Year.’ She paused. ‘I thought that might be why she kept rushing to the loo.’
‘But that’s also a symptom of late pregnancy,’ Josh said.
‘So how do we tackle this?’ Amy asked.
‘You don’t. I do it,’ Jane said. ‘Under the safeguarding rules, Amy, I know you can give me the contact information of a student you’re worried about, so can you tell me her name and address?’
Amy had accessed Freya’s school records earlier, and gave Jane the relevant details.
‘Thanks. I’ll liaise with the police, then do a preliminary visit and see if I can get any information,’ Jane said. ‘And thank you.’
‘Will you let me know how you get on?’ Amy asked.
‘I’m afraid any conversations I have will be confidential, unless I have Freya’s permission to talk to you,’ Jane said, sounding regretful.
‘We understand. But please tell her from us that the baby’s doing just fine and we’d be happy to send her a picture, or for her to come and visit Hope,’ Josh said. ‘And if she does turn out to be our missing mum, please persuade her to see a doctor to get checked over. She won’t be in trouble, but we need to be sure that she’s all right.’
‘I will,’ Jane promised.
Amy looked at Josh when she’d ended the call. ‘I really hope we’ve done the right thing.’
‘We have,’ he said. ‘Jane’s in a neutral position so, if our theory’s wrong, then Freya won’t be too embarrassed to walk into your form room next term. If it’s right, then Jane knows all the procedures and can get Freya the help she needs.’
‘I’d still rather go and see her myself,’ Amy said. ‘As you say, Jane’s neutral and she’s really nice, but she’s still a stranger. Surely Freya’s more likely to open up to me because she knows me?’
‘If our theory’s right, Freya left Hope with you because she trusted you to do the right thing and talk to the right people for her. Which you’ve done,’ Josh pointed out.
‘I guess.’
Hope woke; as soon as Amy picked her up, she could tell what the problem was. ‘Nappy. Super-bad nappy,’ she said.
‘Oh, great,’ Josh said with a sigh. ‘And it’s my turn to change her.’
‘I’m not arguing.’ Amy smiled and handed the baby over. Josh carried Hope to the bathroom. ‘Come on, Munchkin. Let’s sort you out.’
Josh was gone a very long time. And Amy could hear screaming, interspersed with him singing snatches of what sounded like every song that came into his head. Each one sounded slightly more desperate.
She was just about to go and see if she could do anything to help when he came back into the kitchen carrying a red-faced, still grizzly baby.
‘I was just about to come and see if you needed anything. Do I take it that it was really bad?’ she asked.
‘Let’s just say she needed a bath,’ he said grimly. ‘And she doesn’t like baths yet.’
‘Hence the screaming and the singing?’
‘Yeah.’ He blew out a breath. ‘I’m glad I’m not a teenager. After that nightmare in the bathroom just now, I’d be paranoid that my face was all it took to make any girl scream and run away.’
Amy couldn’t help laughing. ‘Hardly. You’re quite pretty.’
‘Pretty?’ He gave her a speaking look.
‘If you were a supply teacher at my school,’ she said, ‘you’d have gaggles of teenage girls hanging around the staff room every lunchtime in the hope of catching a glimpse of you.’
‘That,’ he said, ‘sounds scary. I think I’d rather deal with—wait for it...’ He adopted a pose and warbled to the tune of ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’. ‘Five turkey carvers! Four black eyes, three throwing up, two broken ankles and a bead up a toddler’s nose.’
‘I ought to introduce you to our head of music,’ she said, laughing. ‘Between you, I can imagine you writing a panto about The Twelve Days of ED.’
‘Better believe it.’
‘So, what do you want to do this afternoon?’
‘It’s wet and miserable out there, and although Hope’s on the mend I’d rather not take her out, even though we’ve got the pram and snowsuit,’ Josh said.
‘Festive films on the sofa, then,’ she said.
He wrinkled his nose. ‘I feel a bit guilty, just slobbing around on the sofa.’
‘As you said, it’s not the weather for going out,’ she reminded him. ‘And you’ve had tough enough shifts to justify doing nothing for a day or so. Well, nothing but alternate feeds, changing the odd really vile nappy and singing songs to stop Hope crying.’
‘Well, if you put it that way...’ He stole a kiss. ‘Bring on the films.’
Snuggled up on the sofa with Josh and the baby, Amy had never felt more at peace. What had started off as a miserable Christmas was rapidly turning into one of the best Christmases ever.
‘Do you want me to take the sofa tonight?’ he asked when Hope had had her late evening feed.
‘I think we go for the same deal as last night,’ Amy said. ‘Except maybe this time we could change into pyjamas instead of sleeping in our clothes?’
‘Give me two minutes next door,’ he said.
And she burst out laughing when he returned in a pair of pyjamas covered in Christmas puddings. ‘That’s priceless. I’m almost tempted to take a snap of you wearing them and put it in Hope’s book.’
‘Absolutely not. These were my best friend’s wife’s idea of a joke,’ he said. ‘I don’t usually wear pyjamas. When they stayed at my flat after my housewarming, I ended up wearing a ratty old T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts so I’d be decent, and she said I needed proper pyjamas for when I had guests. This is the only pair I own. And this is the first time I’ve worn them.’
Amy went hot all over at the thought of Josh, in bed with her, naked. All the words flew out of her head and she just said, flustered, ‘I, um...’
He took her hand and kissed the back of each finger in turn, then turned her hand over and pressed a kiss into the palm. ‘Don’t be flustered. There’s no pressure,’ he said, his voice low and husky and sexy as anything. ‘Let’s go to bed. Platonically.’
And he was as good as his word. No pressure. He simply curled his body round hers, wrapped his arm round her waist, and rested his cheek against her shoulder. And, as she fell asleep, Amy felt happier than she’d been in a long, long while.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tuesday
ON TUESDAY MORNING, Josh woke to find his arms wrapped round Amy and hers wrapped round him. And suddenly the whole world felt full of promise. He couldn’t resist kissing her awake. To his relief, she didn’t back away from him the way she had the previous morning; this time, she smiled and kissed him back.
‘Well, happy Tuesday,’ he said.
She stroked his face. ‘Absolutely.’
‘My turn to bring you a cup of tea in bed,’ he said, kissed her lingeringly and climbed out of bed.
‘Wonderful,’ she said, smiling back at him.
Funny, being in her kitchen was so much better than being in his own. Even though they had similar decor, all in neutral tones, her place felt like home. Josh even found himself humming a happy song as he made tea.
He could hear Hope crying, and called through, ‘I’ll heat up some milk for Munchkin.’
‘Thanks,’ Amy called back.
He took the two mugs of tea and bottle of milk through to Amy’s bedroom, where he found Amy cuddling the baby and crooning to her. He set the tea on her bedside table and climbed back in next to them. ‘Want me to feed her?’
‘Sure.’ Amy transferred the baby into his arms.
Feeding the baby, cuddled up next to Amy in bed... It made Josh realise exactly what he wanted out of life—what he wanted to happen in the New Year.
To be part of a family, just like this, with Amy. Domestic bliss.
Given her fertility issues, it wasn’t going to be easy. But he thought it was going to be worth the effort. The only thing was: after they gave Hope back at New Year, would Amy change her mind about him?
* * *
Amy sipped her tea and watched Josh feeding the baby. This was exactly what she wanted. To be a family, with Josh. Although part of her was still worried that her infertility was going to be an issue, he’d been very clear about being happy to look at the options of IVF treatment, adoption or fostering. So maybe it wouldn’t be an issue after all.
‘She’s drunk a bit more than usual, this morning,’ Josh said. ‘That’s a good sign. Maybe we can take her out this morning.’
Amy went over to the window and peeked through the curtain. ‘The sun’s shining.’
‘How about we go for lunch in the park?’ he suggested.
‘And we can try out Alison’s sister’s pram. Great idea.’ She paused. ‘How often are you supposed to weigh babies?’
‘I don’t know.’ He smiled. ‘Time for the baking tray again?’
‘Hey. It was being inventive,’ she protested, laughing. ‘And it worked, didn’t it?’
Once they’d showered and dressed, Amy changed Hope’s nappy and they weighed her. ‘Five pounds, twelve ounces.’
‘We need to write that in her book,’ Josh said, and did so while Amy got the baby dressed. Between them, they got her into the snowsuit.
‘It dwarfs her,’ he said ruefully.
‘Better too big than too small,’ Amy said.
‘I guess.’ Josh tucked the baby into the pram underneath a blanket, and then put the apron on the pram. ‘Just in case it’s a bit breezy out there,’ he said.
‘Good idea,’ Amy agreed.
Once they’d got their own coats on, they negotiated the pram out of the flat.
‘This is where I’m really glad we’re on the ground floor,’ Amy said.
‘Me, too,’ Josh said. ‘Even though this pram’s really light, it wouldn’t be much fun carrying it up or down a flight of stairs—especially if you’re doing it on your own.’
They exchanged a glance, and Amy knew that he too was thinking of Hope’s mum. If she was given a flat in a high-rise block, it could be tough for her to cope.
‘Let’s go to the park,’ she said firmly. ‘This is your first official trip out, Hope.’
‘We ought to commemorate that for Hope’s book,’ Josh said. ‘Time for a selfie.’
‘In the lobby?’
‘With the pram. You bet.’ He looked at her. ‘Ready?’
They crouched either side of the pram, and Josh angled his phone so he could take the snap of the three of them together.
Hope slept all the way to the park. Meanwhile Josh slid his arm round Amy’s shoulders, and they both had one hand on the handle of the pram, pushing it together.
This felt like being part of the family Amy had always wanted. She knew it was just a fantasy, and if the police couldn’t find Hope’s mother then the baby would go formally into care, but for now she was going to enjoy feeling this way.
* * *
The sun seemed to have brought out all the other new parents, Josh thought. People happily strolling along the paths, pushing prams, sometimes with a toddler in tow as well. Slightly older children were playing on the swings, slides and climbing frames in the park, while their parents chatted and kept an eye on them from benches placed around the perimeter of the play area.
Just for a moment he could imagine the three of them here in three years’ time: himself pushing Hope on the swings as she laughed and begged to be pushed higher, while Amy stood watching them, her face radiant and her belly swollen with their new baby.
Except there were no guarantees that the IVF treatment would work, and the chances of them actually being able to keep Hope were minimal.
He knew he was being ridiculous. Right from the start, this had been a temporary arrangement; the baby was theirs only for a week, and that was simply because they were the neighbours who’d found her abandoned on their doorstep on a day where none of the official services were able to help. They couldn’t be a family with Hope.
But maybe they could help another child, through fostering or adoption.
And he knew without doubt that Amy was the one he wanted to share that family with. Thanks to Hope, he’d found that he was finally ready to move on from the wreckage of his marriage to Kelly; and because he’d been cooped up with Amy for several days he’d had the chance to get to know her properly. He could actually be himself with Amy, and it was a long time since he’d felt that.
When they stopped for a coffee and a toasted sandwich in the café in the park, the pictures were still in his head, and he found himself sketching the scene on the back of a napkin.
If only this wasn’t temporary.
But for now he was going to enjoy the Christmas break he’d expected to hate.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Amy was in the middle of feeding Hope when her intercom buzzed.
‘Would you mind getting that?’ she asked Josh.
‘Sure.’ He picked up the handset. ‘Hello?’
‘Is that Josh? It’s Jane Richards.’
‘Come in,’ he said, and buzzed her in. ‘It’s Jane,’ he said to Amy as he replaced the handset. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’
Had Jane talked to Freya? And was their theory right? Or was Jane just checking up on them in their role as temporary foster parents?
Josh answered the door when Jane knocked. ‘The kettle’s just about to boil. Tea or coffee?’
‘Tea would be wonderful, thanks,’ she said.
‘How do you like your tea?’
‘Reasonably strong, with a dash of milk and no sugar, please.’ And then Jane did a double take as she saw the pram in the corner of the living room. ‘Have you two been shopping or something?’
‘No—it’s a loan from the sister of one of my colleagues,’ he said. ‘She lent us a snowsuit as well, so we took Hope for a walk in the park across the road today. I think she enjoyed her first trip out.’
‘And her temperature’s normal again?’ Jane asked.
‘Yes. We wouldn’t have taken her out if we’d been in the slightest bit worried about her—that’s why we left it until today,’ Amy said. ‘She’s doing fine. We weighed her this morning and she’s put on two ounces.’
‘You’ve borrowed baby scales?’ Jane asked.
‘Not exactly.’ Josh and Amy shared a glance and grinned.
‘What am I missing?’ Jane asked.
‘We improvised,’ Josh said. ‘It involved Amy’s kitchen scales, a towel and a baking tray.’
Jane laughed. ‘Well, clearly it worked. And you both look very comfortable with her.’
‘We’ve had our moments,’ Josh said wryly. ‘She really hates having baths. You have to sing her through them.’
‘But I can show you her sleep and feed charts,’ Amy said. ‘And we’re doing a book of her first days, either for her mum or for Hope herself. We’re including photos and what have you, so Hope—and her mum—don’t feel they’ve missed anything in the future.’
‘That’s really sweet of you,’ Jane said, accepting the mug of tea gratefully from Josh.
‘Do you have any news for us?’ Josh asked.
‘About Freya?’ She grimaced. ‘I’m telling you this unofficially, because strictly speaking this should all be confidential, but I need some help—and, because it’s your theory, I think you’re the best ones to give me advice.’
‘Why do you need help?’ Amy asked, confused.
‘I went to the house, but Freya’s mum refused to let me in,’ Jane said. ‘She was quite difficult with me, so my gut feeling tells me that she has something to hide. If Freya definitely hadn’t had a baby, all she had to do was call the girl down and let me see her, and I could’ve ticked whatever box on a form and gone away again.’
‘Unless she didn’t actually know that Freya had had the baby. Amy, you said she was wearing baggy clothes at school?’ Josh asked.
Amy nodded.
‘So she might have done the same at home. Freya could have hidden the pregnancy from her mum, had the baby—well, wherever—then gone straight home again after she’d left the baby on our doorstep. If she told her mum that she was having a really bad period, that would explain why she was bleeding so much after the birth. She’s at the age where periods are still all over the place, and some girls get quite severe period pains,’ Josh said thoughtfully.
‘And Freya’s mum did say that there were problems with the stepfather. Maybe there had been a huge row or something,’ Amy suggested, ‘and one of the neighbours had tried to intervene, and Freya’s mum thought that someone had called you to complain about the way she was treating her daughter.’
‘I still think she’s hiding something. She wouldn’t look me in the eye,’ Jane said. ‘Does Freya have a close friend she might have confided in?’
‘Her best friend Alice is the most likely person,’ Amy said.
‘Do you have her details? And this comes under the safeguarding stuff for Freya, if you’re worrying about data protection,’ Jane added quickly.
Amy powered up her laptop, logged into the school system and wrote Alice’s details down for Jane.
‘I could have an unofficial word with her, maybe,’ Amy suggested.
Jane shook her head. ‘No, you need to leave this to official channels. If Alice tells me something helpful then I can do something to help Freya.’ She sighed. ‘Poor kid. I kind of hope your theory’s wrong.’
‘So do I,’ Josh said, ‘but I have a nasty feeling that we’re right.’
‘I’ll be in touch, then,’ Jane said. ‘And thank you for everything you’re doing. Obviously we’ll get you financial recompense for—’
‘No,’ Amy cut in. ‘It’s nice to be able to do something practical to help. Call it a Christmas gift to Hope and her mum.’
‘Seconded,’ Josh said firmly. ‘We’re not doing this for the money.’
‘OK. Well, thank you,’ Jane said. ‘I’ll go and have a word with Alice.’
* * *
When the social worker had gone, Josh looked at Amy. ‘Are you all right?’
She nodded. ‘Just thinking about Freya.’
‘Hopefully Jane can intervene and get her the help she needs,’ Josh said. ‘Hey. I could cook us dinner tonight.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously. You’ve made me rethink about my cooking skills, since you taught me how to make that salmon thing.’
‘OK. That’d be lovely.’
‘I’ll just go and get some supplies,’ he said. ‘I can’t keep raiding your fridge.’
‘You mean, I don’t have anything in my kitchen that you can actually cook,’ she teased.
He grinned. ‘Busted.’
‘I’ll print out the photos we’ve taken of Hope and stick them in her book while you’re gone,’ she said.
‘And label them,’ he said, ‘because your handwriting’s a lot neater than mine.’
‘Agreed.’
‘Anything you need from the shops?’
‘No, it’s fine.’ She kissed him lingeringly. ‘See you later.’
In the supermarket, Josh bought ingredients for spaghetti Bolognese. Pudding would definitely have to be shop-bought, he thought, and was delighted to discover a tiramisu cheesecake in the chiller cabinet. He knew Amy liked coffee ice cream, so this looked like a safe bet.
And then he walked through the healthcare aisle and saw the condoms.
He didn’t have any, and he guessed that she didn’t either. It wasn’t quite making an assumption; tonight wasn’t going to be the night. But at some point in the future he was pretty sure that they were going to make love, and it would be sensible for them to have protection available. And he had a feeling Amy would be a lot more comfortable using condoms than any other kind of contraception, given her history.
Putting the packet of condoms in his basket felt weird. He hadn’t even had to think about this for a long time; during most of their relationship, Kelly had been on the Pill. Or so he’d thought. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d bought condoms. But this made him feel like a teenager, nervous and excited all at the same time.
He shook himself and added a bottle of Pinot Grigio to his basket. And then, by the checkouts, he saw the stand of flowers. He couldn’t resist buying a bunch for Amy—nothing flashy and over-the-top that would make her feel awkward and embarrassed, but some pretty gerberas and roses in shades of dark red and pink.
When he got back to the flat, she greeted him with a kiss.
‘For you,’ he said, handing her the flowers with a flourish.
She looked delighted. ‘They’re gorgeous. Thank you. That’s so sweet—you didn’t have to.’
‘Apart from the fact that men are supposed to buy their girlfriends flowers, and you’re officially my girlfriend,’ he pointed out, ‘I wanted to.’
She hugged him. ‘And I love them. Gerberas are my favourite flowers.’
‘More luck than judgement,’ he said. ‘And I’ve cheated on the pudding.’
‘Need me to do anything to help after I’ve put these in water?’
‘Nope. Though I’d better run the pudding by you, in case you hate it.’
‘Oh, nice choice, Dr Farnham,’ she said when he showed her the box. ‘Tiramisu and cheesecake—there isn’t a more perfect combination.’
He laughed. ‘Just don’t look at the nutritional label, OK?’
‘Would that be doctor’s orders?’ she teased.
‘It would.’ He smiled at her. ‘Go and sit down and carry on with whatever you were doing.’
‘Reading a gory crime novel.’
‘Go and sit down and I’ll make dinner.’
She looked intrigued. ‘So is it going to be a cheese toastie or the famous spaghetti Bolognese?’
‘Wait and see.’
Except it went disastrously wrong. Not only did he burn the sauce badly enough to ruin the meal, he actually set off the smoke alarm.
And Hope took great exception to the smoke alarm. She even managed to drown it out with her screams.
Amy walked into the kitchen, jiggling the screaming baby in an attempt to calm her. ‘Open the windows and flap a damp tea-towel underneath the smoke alarm,’ she said. ‘I set it off when I first moved in and my toaster decided not to pop the toast out again after it was done.’
It didn’t make him feel any better, but he followed her instructions and eventually the smoke alarm stopped shrieking.
Hope, on the other hand, took a fair bit longer to stop shrieking, and he’d completely run out of songs by the time Amy had warmed some milk and given the baby an unscheduled feed in an attempt to stop her screaming.
‘Sorry. I don’t think I’ve ruined your saucepan. But it’s a close-run thing.’ He grimaced. ‘And there’s no way I can serve up dinner.’
But Amy didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. She just laughed. ‘These things happen. Stick the saucepan in water and we’ll soak it for a while. I’m sure it will have survived. And we’ll get a takeaway for dinner. Do you fancy Indian, Chinese or pizza?’
‘Pizza. And I’m buying, because dinner was supposed to be my treat tonight,’ he said ruefully.
‘We’ll go halves,’ she said, ‘and you do the washing up.’
‘Including the burned saucepan. Deal.’ He sighed. ‘It’s the last time I try to impress you,’ he grumbled.
She kissed him. ‘Don’t try to impress me. Just be yourself.’
Being himself instead of being who other people wanted him to be was what had led to a rift between himself and his family, and he was pretty sure it had also contributed a fair bit to the breakdown of his marriage.
But then again, Amy wasn’t anything like Kelly or his family. Maybe it would be different with her. Maybe he’d be enough for her.
He hoped.
After the pizza—and after, to Josh’s relief, he’d managed to get her saucepan perfectly clean—they spent another evening of what really felt like domestic bliss. Amy switched on her stereo and played music by some gentle singer-songwriters that had Hope snoozing comfortably, while the two of them played cards for a while and then stretched out on the sofa together, spooned together with his arms wrapped round her waist and his cheek against hers.
He couldn’t remember feeling this chilled-out and happy for a long, long time. They didn’t even need to talk: it was enough just to be together, relaxing and enjoying each other’s warmth.