Nurse Pauline re-entered after a minute, replacing her handset on her belt. She said to Lauren, “They’ll just be a few minutes—you’re lucky, the babies haven’t woken up for a feed just yet but they will soon. They’ll be happy to be fed by their mummy. Though, you do know you won’t be able to breastfeed them yet, don’t you—because of your medication?”

Lauren managed a disappointed smile, but she was sickened at the idea of breastfeeding those things, and desperately grateful to the drugs that had contaminated her supply.

“I’ll just be happy to see them again,” said Lauren.

“Shouldn’t be too long though, until you can.”

“Can what?”

“Breastfeed them. Depending on what they keep you dosed up with, of course. There are some anti-anxiety medications you can take and still feed.”

A jolt of fear. No.

“Great,” said Lauren, keeping her eyes on the smiling face of the man on the screen, who was gesticulating in a yellow hard hat at a half-built concrete house. Lauren felt her blood pulsating in her head. She concentrated on breathing slowly.

Knuckles rapped on the door.

“Here they are,” said Nurse Pauline, flicking the mute button on the TV.

Don’t panic, Lauren told herself. Whatever else they are, they are two small, helpless things. They can’t hurt me. There is nothing to be afraid of.

The door opened and two more nurses came in, each holding a baby-shaped bundle.

“Aw,” said Nurse Pauline, “they’re asleep, little angels. Just pop them in the cot, ladies, if you don’t mind.”

“They’ve not had a bottle yet,” said the smaller nurse, “not since Dad fed them earlier. They’ve just been sleeping, bless them.”

“Lovely,” said Nurse Pauline.

“Are you planning to keep them overnight?” asked the smaller nurse. “Or should we pop back and get them in a couple of hours?” Lauren was thinking about the answer when she realised the nurse wasn’t asking her, she was asking Pauline. The patient didn’t get a say, of course.

Pauline glanced at Lauren and frowned doubtfully. “We’ll see how we get on.”

“Right. We’ll leave you to it, then.” The two nurses turned to leave.

“Is Patrick still here?” asked Lauren.

“Sorry, love,” said the small nurse, “he went home about an hour ago. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

Night was falling fast. The taller nurse flicked the lights on as she left.

With their eyes shut they could easily have been normal babies. But even with their eyes shut, she could see it, the wrongness. Lauren and Nurse Pauline stood, looking down at the small figures, the pair of babies breathing in tandem, stomachs rising and falling together. Pauline was taking careful notice of her charge.

“Right then, Mum,” she asked, “which one’s which?”