Poppy, the little girl with cystic fibrosis who was back on the ward yet again, greeted her cheerfully from the side ward. ‘How was your party?’

Libby lifted her eyebrows. ‘And how do you know about the party, young lady?’

Poppy grinned. ‘I heard everyone talking about it yesterday and they said that you were going with Dr Christakos. I think you’re so lucky. He’s so cool.’

Remembering the fiery heat of their encounter by the lake, Libby sucked in a breath.

Not cool.

‘The party was fine, thank you, Poppy,’ she said, taking the little girl’s temperature and nodding with satisfaction as she read the result. ‘And if you carry on improving like this, you’ll be back home and going to your own parties soon enough.’

Poppy’s face brightened. ‘Am I better?’

‘Definitely better. The physiotherapist will be up soon to sort out those lungs of yours.’

Poppy groaned. ‘I hate physio.’

Libby sighed and gave her a hug. ‘I know you do, sweetheart, but it helps, you know it does. Where’s your dad this morning?’

‘Gone for breakfast in the canteen. He was starving.’

Libby pulled a face. ‘Well, the food there is enough to cure anyone of hunger so he’ll be back soon. Why don’t you use the playroom when the physio has been?’

They encouraged the children to get up and use the playroom, rather than sitting on their beds, and Bev had lost no time in spending some of the money that they’d raised at the auction.

Poppy shifted awkwardly on the bed. ‘I don’t really know anyone…’

‘You know me,’ Libby said cheerfully, filling in her chart. ‘I’ll be there.’

Poppy smiled. ‘Oh, well, in that case…’

Making a mental note to take Poppy to the playroom later, Libby moved on to her next little patient.

Rachel Miller was back in for some tests. The baby was sitting in her cot cooing happily and playing with a stuffed toy.

Alison smiled when she saw Libby. ‘She’s fine now, but Dr Christakos wanted her to have those tests and they couldn’t do them when she was in a few weeks ago.’

Libby nodded. ‘They shouldn’t take long.’ Libby leaned into the cot and pulled faces at Rachel, who chuckled happily and reached to grab her. ‘She’s gorgeous, Alison. You’re very lucky.’

‘I know.’ Alison smiled proudly at her daughter. ‘We wanted a baby so badly and we tried for so long to have her. I still have to pinch myself.’

Libby looked at the little girl wistfully, feeling a sick empty feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She knew all about wanting a baby badly. There were days when she positively ached for a child of her own. But she was rapidly coming to the conclusion that it was never going to happen.

Part of her envied women who happily went ahead and produced babies without the support of a partner and she was aware that it was happening more and more frequently as women made decisions about their lives without the involvement of a man.