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Her Festive Doorstep Baby
by Kate Hardy
CHAPTER ONE
Friday 24th December
‘HELLO? HELLO?’
There was no answer. It was probably a courier in the middle of a super-frantic shift, Amy thought, needing to deliver as many parcels as humanly possible on Christmas Eve and pressing every single button on the intercom in the hope of finding someone who’d buzz the front door open so they could leave a parcel in the lobby. The silence probably meant they’d stopped waiting for her to answer and were already trying someone else.
She was about to replace the receiver on her intercom system when she heard a noise.
It sounded like a baby crying.
Was it her imagination? Or maybe the courier was listening to something on the radio. An ad, perhaps.
She knew that she was being ridiculous, but something made Amy go out of her own front door and into the main lobby, just to check that everything was all right.
And there, in the corner by the front door, was a cardboard box.
Except she could still hear a baby crying, and this time she was pretty sure it wasn’t on a radio.
When she drew closer, she could see that the cardboard box wasn’t a parcel at all. The top of the box was open. Inside, wrapped in a soft blanket, was a baby. There were traces of blood on the baby’s face and Amy had a moment of panic; but then she thought that the blood might be because the baby was very, very young.
Young enough to be a newborn.
Who on earth would leave a newborn baby in a cardboard box, in the lobby of a block of flats?
She quickly opened the front door and looked outside, but there wasn’t anyone in the street who looked as if they’d just left a baby on a doorstep. Nobody running away or huddled in a hoodie, trying to hide their face.
What were you supposed to do when you found an abandoned baby? Should she take the baby straight to hospital to be checked over, or should she ring the police? If she moved the box or picked the baby up to try to soothe it, would she be disturbing forensic evidence that would help the police find the baby’s mother?
Yet the baby was so tiny, and the lobby wasn’t heated. She could hardly leave the poor little mite to freeze there. She was about to try the other intercoms to see if any of her neighbours was in and could ring the police for her, when the door to the lobby opened and Josh Farnham walked in.
She didn’t know Josh very well; he’d moved into one of the flats on her floor about six months ago. They were on smile-and-nod terms, and she occasionally took in a parcel for him, but that was about it.
‘Is everything OK?’ he asked. And then he frowned as the baby cried again.
‘No.’ Amy gestured to the cardboard box. ‘Someone’s just left a baby on our doorstep.’
Josh looked utterly shocked. ‘A baby? But—who?’
‘I have no idea.’
He bent down to touch the baby’s hand. Clearly he had the magic touch because the baby immediately stopped crying.
‘Someone pressed my intercom but didn’t speak,’ Amy continued. ‘I assumed it was a courier trying to find someone in so they could deliver a parcel to someone in our block, but then I thought I could hear a baby crying.’ She spread her hands. ‘It could’ve been on the radio, but something made me come out here to see, just in case. That’s when I found the baby.’ She bit her lip. ‘There’s blood on the baby’s face, but I think that might be because the baby’s a newborn. As in really newborn.’
‘Have you called the police?’ he asked, his blue eyes narrowing.
‘I was just about to,’ she said, ‘but I didn’t bring my phone out with me, and I’m not sure if I’m going to mess up the forensics or what have you if I take the baby into my flat.’
‘You can hardly wait out here until the police arrive,’ Josh said, frowning. ‘Both of you would freeze. Look, let me grab some stuff from my flat so I can put up a makeshift barrier round the area where the box is now, to protect any potential evidence, then I’ll check the baby over properly while you call the police.’ The concern clearly showed in her expression, because he added, ‘It’s OK. I’m qualified. I’m a doctor in the local emergency department.’
