Gina looked down at the baby, sleeping so peacefully. Such a pretty child, and no trouble.

‘You know what I think happened?’ said Gina.

‘No, what?’

‘Some bastard forced her. And now every time she looks at this child, she sees that man. That’s what I think.’

Cyrus straightened his glasses and heaved a sigh. ‘It’s a wicked world,’ he said.

Gina looked at him, her husband. Flabby and plain, but he was a good man. Not a man who would ever consider doing such a thing to a woman.

‘Well then, I’d better just do this,’ said Gina.

41

41

Gina gathered up the baby and stepped out of the car. She walked on to the sidewalk, looking left and right. It was quiet. She’d deliberately picked a quiet time. Standing there, she looked up at the big iron gates, standing open in front of her: 273 – CONVENT OF SRS OF MERCY soared high above her head on the arches over the gates. A gust of wind caught her coat and she shivered. But she was doing a good thing for this child, the best thing; she had to remember that.

She went through the open gate and ascended the steps to the big wooden door at the top. The door was slightly ajar, and she heard voices in the hall. Male and female. There was the sharp scent of new-cut wood in the air. Sudden alarm made her stop there, listening. Now it came to it, how the hell was she to explain this? The baby was unwanted by its mother. Gina had already tucked a note in with the baby, naming its mother and giving her address – stupid! Would the Sisters come back at Claire, try to coax her when it was clear that she wanted nothing to do with her daughter?

Gina tucked the blanket firmly around the child. The sliver of paper brushed her fingers and she thought, I’ll take the note out. But then she hesitated. What if one day Claire wanted to know her child? And wasn’t it cruel, to deny the little girl the chance to know her mother? From the other side of the door there was the sound of footsteps approaching, and she bent and placed the baby in its blanket on the step in front of the door. Then she turned and hurried down the steps, across the sidewalk and back to the car.

‘Let’s go, Cyrus,’ she said, getting in. She wasn’t an emotional type of woman, but right now, it was all she could do not to weep.