by Linda Huber
Julie went into the trauma room. There was space for four patients here, but only one bay was occupied. Craig and Sharon were standing on either side of an incubator, gazing down at the tiny, almost motionless form lying there.
‘Julie!’ Sharon ran over and hugged Julie, and immediately they were both in tears.
‘How is she? What happened?’ said Julie, allowing Sharon to lead her to the incubator.
Craig nodded at her. ‘She’s dehydrated. He didn’t feed her properly,’ he said soberly. ‘She’s lucky to be alive. He’s dead, did you hear?’
‘No,’ said Julie, leaning on the incubator. Jael had a drip running into one foot and oxygen prongs looped into her nose. Her eyes were half-closed and her little face was pale. Julie swallowed. Jeff had done this. But she didn’t want to waste her thoughts on him. ‘What happens now?’
Sharon sounded much calmer than Julie would have expected. ‘They’re taking her to a ward for monitoring overnight, but I can stay with her. They said she’ll be okay in a day or two.’
Julie nodded. A happy end for Jael. ‘How are you holding up, Sharon?’
Sharon dabbed her eyes. ‘I’ve got another chance, Julie. I’ll be with her all the way. And so will Craig.’ She reached for Craig’s hand and smiled at him across the incubator. He nodded, smiling back very faintly, a kind of peace that Julie hadn’t seen in them before hovering between them.
Julie took a deep, shaky breath. ‘They just told me that Max’s operation went well,’ she said, looking down on Jael again. Soon, she would be able to go home and sit cuddling her own baby again.
‘Are you all right, Julie?’ said Sharon, touching her arm.
Julie blinked. Hope was holding her together now, but hope was strong. ‘I’ve got another chance too, haven’t I?’
Epilogue
Two years later
Caro limped back to her desk, and turned the fan round to blow the muggy salesroom air towards her. Half an hour to home-time, and thank God for that. This summer was set to be the hottest since records began, according to the weatherman, and heat did her leg no good at all. She eased her left trainer off and sat massaging her ankle.
‘Okay?’ Louise looked round from the reception, and Caro nodded, grimacing.
She was lucky she still had an ankle to massage; it had been touch and go for a while. Most of the tendons round the joint had been severed, and the wounds Jeff inflicted on her had become infected. She’d had a drain in there for months and they’d operated twice to flush out the bugs. Now she was left with a tight, twisted scar, and nerve damage which meant she barely felt her foot. Some legacy Jeff had left her. She would give up his money in a flash, if it meant getting her health back, but that was an impossible dream. Bitterness rose sourly in Caro’s throat – if she’d never gone to find that youth with the drugs, she wouldn’t have met Liam and none of this would have happened to her. She knew now that the boy who’d died in the library was a different kid. It had all been for nothing.
Mr Simpson came through to reception with a dark-haired man and a small child, and Caro straightened up and pretended to be working. It wouldn’t do for the new boss to catch her with her shoes off. Judging by the fawning expression, though, a sale had just been negotiated, so maybe he’d let them close shop a few minutes early. The little group stopped a few yards away to peer at some documents, and Caro stared blindly at the monitor in front of her – seeing other people with their kids still hurt. Everyone around her was popping babies like it was going out of fashion, but the dream of her own child seemed very far away. Rosie had four kids now, and Pete had remarried and was father to a little girl as well as Liam. And Louise was pregnant again…
The child, who looked about two, wandered towards the door. Her father strode after her and swept her up in his arms.
‘Jael, sweetheart, stay with Daddy – we’re nearly finished now.’
Caro’s scalp prickled, and in spite of the heat, goose bumps rose on her arms. Jael. It wasn’t a common name, and the age would be about right… Was this the baby she had clutched to her chest in that terrible room? She stared at the child, who was busy with her father’s phone now, suddenly quite sure this must be ‘her’ Jael. The baby Jeff had stolen for her.
Mr Simpson and the man were shaking hands now, and the little girl waved as they crossed reception.
Louise waved back. ‘Are you going home?’ she said, in the special voice she used for small children.
The little girl nodded. ‘Home. Mummy.’ She beamed suddenly. ‘Sam!’
Her father laughed. ‘That’s right – Sam and Amy are coming, and Julie and Max too. That’ll be fun, won’t it?’
Jael nodded, and Louise and the man grinned at each other while Caro concentrated on not passing out. Max – the policeman Jeff had stabbed was called Max. He’d been transferred to a specialist chest unit in Glasgow the day after her first operation. Rosie had spoken twice to his girlfriend, but Caro couldn’t remember the name. What she’d never forget was the relief she’d felt when she heard the baby was going to be all right…
The door swung shut behind the pair, and Caro stood up to see out to the car park.
Jael’s father lifted her into a silver Ford, and Caro caught a glimpse of a solemn little face as the car crawled towards the exit and vanished into the traffic.
‘You two can get off now,’ said Mr Simpson.
Letting Louise’s chatter wash over her head, Caro gathered her things and went out into warm summer sunshine. Her baby had turned into a beautiful little girl.
For the moment, it was almost enough. Caro limped towards the bus stop.
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Acknowledgments
Writing a book is a team effort, and I have an amazing team. Several teams, in fact.
The home team: love and thanks as always to my sons, Matthias and Pascal. Their help, advice and (usually) patience as I negotiate my way through the technological world of today is invaluable; they manage my website and advise me on everything from word documents to storing photographs and making business cards – I couldn’t manage without them.
The family and friends teams: My ‘teams’ in Scotland, England and Switzerland are always there in the background, turning themselves into booksellers, flyer distributors and cheerleaders as required. As time goes on and families grow, I find I have doctors, nurses, teachers, police officers, and experts in many other fields to call upon – and I do! Special mentions here for Dad, Gordon and Calum for going above and beyond, and for everyone who helps with my book cards.
The book teams: huge thanks as always to Debi Alper, whose advice, criticism and encouragement is central to my writing; also to my new team at Bloodhound Books for giving Baby Dear such a fantastic cover as well as all the editorial help required. I’m excited to be working with you all!
Last but not least – the social media teams: there are so many people here I couldn’t begin to mention you all, but you know who you are and I’m saying the most enormous THANK YOU. Very often it’s the online friends, people I’ve never met in real life, who are first port of call when something goes wrong or advice and encouragement are needed. I hope I can give as much help as I get from you. Online ‘friends’ are real friends too.
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Linda Huber, Baby Dear: a gripping psychological thriller