A Very Special Need. Caroline Anderson

chewed her lip again. ‘Are you sure that’s not a nuisance?’

      Of course it isn’t. It’s the least I can do—and, anyway, I really ought to pop down to the hospital and see Christine. I’ll just go on from your place, then I’ll get the kids a take-away on the way home.’

      ‘OK.’ What a relief, she thought, not to have to push the wheelchair round the corner and up the hill. It wasn’t much of a hill but she wasn’t much of a Mr Universe either, and she realised she was tired after her unexpected afternoon sloshing about in the deep end of her new job.

      She swallowed her tea, took a bite of Woody’s biscuit, squeezed him reassuringly on the shoulder and went back to the reception desk just as a young woman with a baby in her arms arrived.

      Oh. Christine’s not here.’

      ‘No, she’s had her baby. I’m Judith, the new receptionist. Are you Mrs Radley?’

      ‘Yes, that’s right. Oh, how exciting. What did she have?’

      ‘A boy—here, at lunchtime. It was all very quick and rather dramatic.’

      ‘Really! What fun! Are they both OK?’

      Judith shrugged and smiled, but the smile was a little forced. ‘So far as we could tell,’ she said, thinking of Edward and how normal and healthy he had seemed.

      Mrs Radley looked down at the sleepy bundle in her arms. ‘I brought Lucy in to show to her—I don’t suppose you could hang on to her while I go in and see Hugh?’

      Hugh appeared behind her and hijacked the baby. ‘Hello, little one. My, what a lovely baby. Are you going to throw up on me?’ he asked with tender teasing. Lucy blinked sleepily and her eyes drooped shut again.

      ‘Dear me, I must be boring. Here you go, Judith—have a baby. Right, Jenny, how’ve you been? Any better?’

      They disappeared, leaving her gazing transfixed at the soft, downy cheeks of the tiny girl, her lashes faint crescents against the pale, blue-white skin. Her hair was fair, tiny soft wisps of it sticking up in little points, and it brought a lump to her throat. Two babies in one day. So many memories.

      She bent her head and sniffed, and gave a ragged little sigh. She even smelled the same as Woody had. It had been such a happy time, for all the struggle it had been. Those few short halcyon months before she had realised anything was wrong held the most precious memories of her life.

      She sniffed again, inhaling the soft scent of baby powder and ultra-fine skin, and sighed wistfully.

      If only things had been different…