More and more, she thought about Ellory, as if now that her daughter was no longer a secret, she could allow herself to picture her and talk to her in her mind. Was she married? A mother? Bess knew she could quite possibly have a grandchild in their teens already – a thought as weird as it was wonderful. She had registered her desire to be contacted by her daughter with an agency, and all she had to do was sit back and wait to see if Ellory had done the same. If she had, then she could write to her, or Ellory might choose to make contact.

Oh my goodness!

The thought of sitting down and putting pen to paper for the child she had last seen when she was but hours old – how and where in the world would she begin? How could she write all that she had contained for the past thirty-six years, five months, two weeks and three days . . . ? Ridiculously, she also wished her handwriting were better. Penmanship and literacy – she quaked at the memory. Having lodged her request for contact, she woke each day with a small bubble of excitement in her stomach, wondering if this might be the day she heard that Ellory wanted to get in touch. The truth was, her daughter might decide she did not want contact of any kind – the exact opposite, of course, of what Bess wished, holding dear the thought of reunion and picturing herself handing over the thirty-six cards that sat in a box at the top of her wardrobe. Each one was a birthday card with the same simple message, often written hurriedly in a darkened room:

Happy birthday, Ellory, my darling daughter.

Please forgive me and know that you were the greatest gift.

Mum X

But if no contact was what Ellory decided, it would at least be the end of this chapter too, which in itself could bring peace.

Bess’s thoughts were broken by the sound of the door of the waiting room opening, and suddenly all the hours of loitering on uncomfortable chairs dissolved into seconds and all the angst and chit-chat disappeared from memory, because in front of her stood Jake and Dan and in her son’s arms lay a tiny bundle wrapped in a soft blanket. The family gathered round, faces beaming, and quite at a loss as to who should move first, all seemingly and equally as overwhelmed as Bess.

Jake couldn’t speak for the tears coursing down his face.

Daniel, while choked with emotion, managed to get some words out. ‘Here he is! This is Mario Jack, who has just weighed in at seven pounds six ounces. His mum is doing really well, and we, his daddies, are as you can see, absolute wrecks!’

Bess fought the desire that urged every fibre in her body to rush forward and take the baby in her arms. She wanted so badly to meet her grandson!