Cathy Glass - A Baby’s Cry

HarperElement

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London SE1 9GF

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HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

First published by HarperElement 2012

Cathy Glass asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

A BABY’S CRY. © Cathy Glass 2012. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

ISBN: 9780007442638

Ebook Edition © DECEMBER 2011 ISBN: 9780007445707

Version 2018-11-05

To Dad with love

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Secretive

Chapter Two

Helping

Chapter Three

Alone in the World

Chapter Four

Bonding

Chapter Five

The Case

Chapter Six

The Mystery Deepens

Chapter Seven

Abandoned

Chapter Eight

Stranger at the Door

Chapter Nine

Section 20

Chapter Ten

Shut in a Cupboard

Chapter Eleven

Ellie

Chapter Twelve

A Demon Exorcized

Chapter Thirteen

Pure Evil

Chapter Fourteen

Shane

Chapter Fifteen

No Wiser

Chapter Sixteen

The Woman in the Street

Chapter Seventeen

Information Sharing

Chapter Eighteen

Staying Safe

Chapter Nineteen

A Right to Cry

Chapter Twenty

An Ideal World

Chapter Twenty-One

Honour

Chapter Twenty-Two

A Baby’s Cry

Chapter Twenty-Three

Late-Night Caller

Chapter Twenty-Four

Harrison

Chapter Twenty-Five

Best Christmas

Chapter Twenty-Six

Little Brother

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Contact

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Decision

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Letting Go

Chapter Thirty

Upset

Chapter Thirty-One

Goodbye Harrison

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Exclusive sample chapter

Cathy Glass

About the Publisher

Children can come into foster care at any age and it is always sad, but most heartbreaking of all is when a newborn baby, sometimes only a few hours old, is taken from their mother and brought into care.

Certain details in this story, including names, places, and dates, have been changed to protect the family’s privacy.

‘Could you look after a baby?’ Jill asked.

‘A baby!’ I said, astonished.

‘Yes, you know. You feed one end and change the other and they keep you up all night.’

‘Very funny, Jill,’ I said. Jill was my support social worker from Homefinders, the agency I fostered for. We enjoyed a good working relationship.

‘Actually, it’s not funny, Cathy,’ she said, her voice growing serious. ‘As we speak a baby is being born in the City Hospital. The social services have known for months that it would be coming into care but they haven’t anyone to look after it.’

‘But Jill,’ I exclaimed, ‘it’s years since I’ve looked after a baby, let alone a newborn. Not since Paula was a baby, and she’s five now. I think I might have my pram and cot in the loft but I haven’t any bottles, baby clothes or cot bedding.’

‘You could buy what you need and we’ll reimburse you. Cathy, I know you don’t normally look after babies – we save you for the more challenging children – and I wouldn’t have asked you, but all our baby carers are full. The social worker is desperate.’

I paused and thought. ‘How soon will the baby be leaving hospital?’ I asked, my heart aching at the thought of the mother and baby who were about to be separated.

‘Tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow!’

‘Yes. Assuming it’s a normal birth, the social worker wants the baby collected as soon as the doctor has given it the OK.’

I paused and thought some more. I knew my children, Paula (five) and Adrian (nine), would love to foster a baby, but I felt a wave of panic. Babies are very tiny and fragile, and it seemed so long since I’d held a baby, let alone looked after one. Would I instinctively remember what to do: how to hold the baby, sterilize bottles, make up feeds, wind and bath it, etc.?

‘It’s not rocket science,’ Jill said, as though reading my thoughts. ‘Just read the label on the packet.’

‘Babies don’t come with labels, do they?’

Jill laughed. ‘No, I meant on the packet of formula.’

‘Why is the baby coming into care?’ I asked after a moment.

‘I don’t know. I’ll find out more from Cheryl, the social worker, when I call her back to say you can take the baby. Can I do that? Please, Cathy – pretty please if necessary.’

‘All right. But Jill, I’m going to need a lot of advice and …’

‘Thanks. Terrific. I’ll phone Cheryl now and then get back to you. Thanks, Cathy. Speak to you soon.’

And so I found myself standing in my sitting room with the phone in my hand expecting a baby in twenty-four hours.

Panic took hold. What should I do first? I had to go into the loft, find the cot and pram and whatever other baby equipment might be up there, and then make a list of what I needed to buy and go shopping. It was 10.30 a.m. Adrian and Paula were at school. There’s plenty of time to get organized and go shopping, I told myself, so calm down.

First, I went to the cupboard under the stairs and took out the pole to open the loft hatch; then I went upstairs and on to the landing. Extending the pole, I released the loft hatch and slowly lowered the loft ladders. I don’t like going into the loft because I hate spiders and I was sure the loft was a breeding ground for them. I gingerly climbed to the top of the ladders and then tentatively reached in and switched on the light. I scanned the loft for spiders before going in completely.

I spotted the cot and pram straightaway. They were both collapsed and covered with polythene sheeting to protect them from dust; I intended to sell them one day. I also spotted a bouncing cradle. All of these Adrian and Paula had used as babies. Carefully stepping around the other stored items in the loft and ducking to avoid the overhead beams, I kept a watchful eye out for any scurrying in the shadows and crossed to the baby equipment. Removing the polythene I saw they were in good condition and I carried them in their sections to the loft hatch opening and down the ladders; then I stacked them on the landing, to be assembled later. I returned up the ladders and switched off the loft light, and then closed the hatch and took the pole downstairs, where I returned it to the cupboard.

Perching on a breakfast stool in the kitchen I took a pen and paper and began making a list of the essential items I’d need to buy: cot mattress, cot and pram bedding, baby bath, changing mat, bottles and formula milk, first-size clothes, nappies, nappy wipes, baby bath cream, etc. As my list grew, so too did my anticipation and I began to feel a little surge of excitement at the thought of looking after a baby – although I was acutely aware that my gain would be another woman’s loss, as it meant that a mother would shortly be parted from her baby, which is always very very sad.