After confusion faded, Spencer thought it best to take the baby into the warmth of his flat and call the police. He checked once more before closing his door, but still there was no one about.
Grabbing his phone, he peered down at the cute infant. ‘Aww, bless. Don’t worry, I’ve got you,’ he whispered. He went to straighten, then noticed the note wedged along the side. Straight away his stomach flipped and he felt pity for the child.
Please don’t tell me this is what I think it is.
He sat on a chair close to the pram and unfolded the paper, shoulders sinking immediately, as it became quite clear from the first line that it was exactly what he thought. Someone had purposely dumped their baby. But why on his doorstep? Why not somewhere else, like the church? It wasn’t far.
With little brain power to enter the mind of the mother, Spencer continued to read the letter out loud so he absorbed each and every word.
‘Please look after my baby. His name is Archie, and he’s three months old. He likes cuddles, and his favourite toy is the small panda in his pram.’ Spencer took a moment to control his breathing. His heart was already broken for the poor little thing. ‘I just need some time. Please don’t tell anyone. I’ll come back, I promise.’
The watermark made Spencer visualize a teardrop falling on the page. He glanced at his phone, wondering if a call to his friend Henley would be the best idea. Henley was a social worker, after all, and he worked closely with the Hub. He’d know the right channels to go through for this sort of situation. Perhaps he could call January Riley. As a therapist she might be able to track down the mother and offer help. Jan was brilliant like that. He’d seen her help many people who came into the Hub.
Little Archie was none the wiser, and Spencer was still utterly gobsmacked. He read the next line on the note and all colour drained from his already pale face.
That did not just say that.
He double-checked. Reading aloud to help the words sink in. ‘He’s your son, Spencer. Please believe me. He’s yours, and I just need you to care for him a little while.’
Not much else happened for a few beats after that discovery, as Spencer fell into some sort of trance with the pram.
A low grumble came from the baby, causing Spencer to jump to his feet, arms splayed in front as if telling the child to halt.
Archie settled, and Spencer inhaled deeply, feeling his chest tighten.
This isn’t happening. No, no, no.
He held the letter high to his face, staring at it blankly until his brain woke and caught up with the moment. The next part of the letter told him the baby would want feeding at around eleven, then should settle till early morning.
The large grey bag hanging on the handle caught his eye. It was bulging but sealed. Moving it to the table to unpack, one of the first things he saw was the large tub of powdered milk. He hadn’t made up a bottle since he was eight. Had much changed? The bottles looked clean, but had they been sterilized? It was a relief to see a box of sterilizing tablets in the bag. Quickly, he pulled out a bowl from one of the lower cupboards in the kitchen and got on with the task, following the instructions as best he could with a frazzled mind.
Archie was still enjoying his snooze time, which was a small mercy. What would he think when he woke to find his mother gone and some strange man holding his food?
Raking a hand through his locks, he flopped back onto the chair. ‘What the hell am I going to do?’ he mumbled.
Something needed to make sense so he could take the next step, but his head was in a whirl. He glanced once more at the snuggled bundle, noticing little Archie had a touch of Lottie about his features. Was this really his child? Not that it mattered to his current situation. A boy needed care, and care he would get, whoever he was.
Spencer chewed the inside of his cheek as he contemplated calling his sister. Lottie would tell him to call social services, as most would, but most hadn’t been whisked off to live with strangers like he had as a child, so why would they understand his reluctance to hand the kid over?
Still, he felt the need to talk to someone, and Lottie was the one he trusted most in the world.
I can’t. She’s enjoying her birthday trip.
Well, that was one excuse, and a pretty solid one at that, but he knew he was going to have to tell her at some point, especially as it appeared Archie was sticking around for a while, and Lottie would notice when he turned up for work pushing a pram.
Best get it over with.
‘Spence? Is everything all right?’ Lottie said before he’d had a chance to say hello.
It was late, after all, and she knew he knew she was in Devon, sharing a romantic break with her partner.
Spencer swallowed hard while trying to find the right words for the job. ‘Something’s happened. I have a guest. Well, the thing is . . . So, what happened was . . . erm.’ His shoulders drooped along with his voice.
‘Spit it out, Spence. You’re making my nerves rattle.’
‘It’s a baby. He’s here. Archie. He’s right here.’
There was silence for a moment, then Lottie cleared her throat. ‘Okay, Spence, you need to take a breath, then explain using a proper sentence.’
