isn’t it?’ PC Graham asked.
‘Ms Howes and Mr Farnham,’ she corrected. ‘We’re neighbours.’
‘I see.’ He made a note. ‘Would you mind taking me through what happened?’
Between them, Amy and Josh filled in all the details of how they’d found the baby.
‘I’m a doctor,’ Josh said. ‘I’ve checked the baby over, and she’s fine. I think from all the vernix on her face—that’s the white stuff—she’s a couple of weeks early, and I have a feeling the mum might be quite young. I’d be a lot happier if you could find the mum and get her checked over, too, because she’s at a high risk of infection.’
‘It might take a while to find her,’ PC Graham said.
‘I’m afraid we had to give the baby a bath,’ Amy added. ‘She didn’t have a nappy or any clothes, just the blanket, and the blanket got a bit, um, messy. I haven’t washed it yet, in case you need it for forensics, but I’ve put it in a plastic bag.’
‘Thank you. So you didn’t recognise the voice over the intercom?’ PC Graham asked.
‘Nobody spoke,’ Amy said. ‘I just assumed it was a courier. Then I heard what sounded like a baby’s cry. I don’t know why, but some instinct made me go out and see for myself.’
‘Just as well you did,’ the policeman said. ‘And you don’t know anyone who might have left the baby here?’
‘I don’t know anyone who’s pregnant,’ Amy said. Mainly because she’d distanced herself from all her friends and colleagues who’d been trying for a baby, once she’d found out that she could no longer have children herself. It had been too painful being reminded of what she’d lost.
‘So what happens now?’ Josh asked.
‘Once the social worker’s here, she’ll take the baby to the hospital,’ the policeman said.
Josh shook his head. ‘I don’t really think that’s a good idea. Right now, the children’s ward is stuffed full of little ones with bronchiolitis.’
‘Bronchi-what?’ PC Graham asked.
‘Bronchiolitis. It’s a virus,’ Josh explained. ‘If adults catch it they get a really stinking cold, but in babies the mucus gums up the tiny airways in the lungs—the bronchioles—and they can’t breathe or feed properly. Usually they end up being on oxygen therapy and being tube-fed for a week. And I really wouldn’t want a newborn catching it—at that age it’s likely to be really serious.’
‘What about the general ward?’ PC Graham asked. ‘Could they look after her there?’
Josh shook his head. ‘At this time of year the winter vomiting virus and flu are both doing the rounds in all the wards. As a newborn, she’s at high risk of picking up either or both.’
The policeman shrugged and spread his hands. ‘Then I don’t know. We’ll see what the social worker says when she gets here.’
By the time Amy had made mugs of tea, PC Walters was back from his forensic examination of the hallway.
‘Did you manage to get anything?’ Amy asked.
‘A smudged footprint, but no fingerprints. Hopefully we’ll get something from the box she left the baby in.’ PC Walters looked at Amy’s pale beige carpet. ‘Though I’m afraid fingerprint powder’s a bit messy.’
‘It doesn’t matter. It won’t take that long to vacuum it up afterwards,’ Amy said. ‘It’s more important that you discover something that’ll help you find the baby’s mum.’
But he didn’t manage to get much from the box, either. ‘There’s a couple of long blonde hairs, but they don’t necessarily belong to the mother. Though I found an envelope under the newspaper at the bottom of the box.’
‘Newspaper?’ Josh asked.
‘For insulation against the cold, maybe,’ PC Walters said. ‘There’s a gold chain in there and a note—though there aren’t any prints. There are a couple of fibres, so she was probably wearing gloves.’
Amy read the note and then passed it to Josh.
Please look after Hope. I’m sorry.
‘So the baby’s name is Hope?’ Josh asked.
‘Seems so.’
Amy shared a glance with Josh. Hope. How terribly sad, because hope was clearly the last thing the baby’s mother felt right now.
‘Do you recognise the handwriting at all?’ PC Graham asked.
‘No,’ Amy said.
‘Me neither,’ Josh agreed.
‘We can take the box back with us—and the blanket—but I don’t think it’s going to help much,’ PC Walters said, accepting a mug of tea.
They went through the whole lot again when Jane Richards, the social worker, arrived ten minutes later.
‘So what’s going to happen to the baby?’ Amy asked.
Jane grimaced. ‘At this time of year, everyone’s on leave. You’re lucky if you can get anyone even to answer a phone. And with Christmas falling partly on a weekend, the chances of getting hold of someone who can offer a foster care placement are practically zero. So I guess the baby’s going to have to stay in hospital for a while.’
‘The local hospital’s on black alert,’ Josh said. ‘Apart from the fact that beds are in really short supply right now, there’s bronchiolitis on the children’s ward, and there’s flu and the winter vomiting virus in the rest of the hospital. The chances are that Hope would go down with something nasty, so they’ll refuse to take her.’
Jane looked at Amy. ‘As you’re the one who found her, and Christmas is meant to be the season of goodwill... Would you be able to look after her for a few days?’
‘Me?’ Amy looked at her in shock. ‘But don’t you have to do all kinds of background checks on me, first?’
‘You’re a teacher,’ Jane said, ‘so you’ll already have gone through most of the checks. The rest of it is just formalities and, as I’m the senior social worker on duty in this area today, I can use my discretion.’
‘I’m more used to dealing with teenagers,’ Amy said. ‘I’ve not really had much to do with babies.’ Much less the baby she’d so desperately wanted to have with Michael. Something that could never, ever happen for her. ‘I’m not sure...’ And yet Jane was right. Christmas was the season of goodwill. How could Amy possibly turn away a helpless, defenceless newborn baby?
‘I could help out,’ Josh said. ‘I’m working today and tomorrow, but I could help out between my shifts.’
So she’d have someone to talk things over with, if she was concerned. Someone who had experience of babies—and, better still, was a doctor.
But there was one possible sticking point. Even though she knew it was intrusive, she still had to ask. ‘Will your partner mind?’ she asked.
‘I don’t have a partner,’ Josh said, and for a moment she saw a flash of pain in his expression.
Did he, too, have an ex who’d let him down badly? Amy wondered. She was pretty sure that, like her, he lived alone.
‘I can make decisions without having to check with anyone first,’ he said. ‘How about yours?’
‘Same as you,’ she said.
‘Which makes it easy.’ He turned to Jane. ‘OK. We’ll look after Hope between us. How long do you need us to look after her?’
She winced. ‘Until New Year’s Eve, maybe?’
A whole week? ‘Just