“Isn’t he?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” she asks, again in the cajoling tone that’s pissing me off.
“I want somebody here to tellmewhat happened. You gave me the wrong baby. My baby is a girl. I had a girl. This is a boy.”
Mandy doesn’t speak, and I stare at the phone again.Come on, Jem.
I glance up at another nurse who’s joined us, and miss what Mandy says to her. “Hello, Sky. Do you remember me? I’m Suzanne.”
Curly brown hair. Short woman. Smiles. Always smiling. I nod my head.
“Does Dylan know you’re here?” she asks. “Is he with you?”
“No. He doesn’t listen to me.”
Suzanne squats down and looks at baby too. “I haven’t hurt him,” I repeat. “I don’t want him, but I looked after him.”
Suzanne’s game face matches Mandy’s. Were they expecting me? “Did you come a long way today? Or are you living in London at the moment?”
“The other house,” I mumble and stare down at my phone. “Berkshire.”
“How about I find you a warm drink? You must be tired after your long drive.” Mandy stands and smiles down at me.
“I can give you a break from baby, if that’s okay?” asks Suzanne. “What’s his name?”
“He doesn’t have one; I can’t name somebody else’s baby. Please, can you find out what happened?” My eyes fill with tears. “I don’t care if you take him, he’s safe here.”
“Sure. Let’s find somewhere quiet, and I’ll bring you a coffee.”
I rub my face and stand, head hurting. “And you’ll find out for me?” I ask. “Where she is? You can look at your records or whatever?”
“Come on,” she says. “Milk in your coffee?”
I follow Mandy in a daze, who leaves me in a room, alone and I sink back in the armchair in relief. The weight dragging me down the last few days lifts.
Everything will be fixed now.
* * *
DYLAN
I’ve facedsome shit in my life, but the phone call breaks apart my world.
The moment the caller mentioned she was from a hospital, I freaked, coat half-on and car keys in hand, yelling at the poor girl. Images of Sky and the baby hurt punched me in the gut, but when the nurse explains in a soft voice where Sky is, and why, the pain shatters my heart and the pieces cut deep.
At first I only register the fact Sky took the baby to hospital and demand to know what’s wrong with him, angry Sky didn’t tell me she thought he was sick. The nurse tells me baby’s fine, but Sky’s distressed, whatever the fuck that means. Secret medical code to calm me the fuck down?
I shout I don’t do this shit over the phone, hang up, and leave. In the car, I repeatedly dial Sky’s number, but again, straight to voicemail.
A couple of hours later, I swing the car into the hospital car park and repeatedly buzz the intercom, frustrated, desperate. A nurse answers the door and attempts to escort me to one side when I walk in.
“I need to speak to my wife,” I say in a low voice and sidestep her. “I need to see my baby.”
The young girl reaches out a hand to touch me and changes her mind. Against policy? Or too scared to touch a pissed off Dylan Morgan?
“Where are they?” I demand.