Emma and Thomas left the flat of their friends where a lively birthday party was still humming, and set off for home. Outside, November had settled long ago, and the dim glow of streetlamps revealed a gentle snowfall. A soft breeze nudged the flakes forward, as if the wind were whispering secrets.
What a sight! Emma exclaimed, eyes drinking in the evening tableau.
Indeed, Thomas agreed, pulling her close.
A few steps later Emma halted.
Do you hear that? she asked.
I hear a baby crying, Thomas replied, turning his head.
People really take babies out this late? The wail sounds so fresh, Emma murmured, uneasy. It must be right nearby, but I cant tell where.
They stopped and scanned the quiet street.
It must be over there, Thomas said, hurrying toward the city park. On a snowcovered bench lay a small bundle from which the cries came.
What a tiny thing Emma whispered. But where are the parents?
It seems they left her alone, Thomas guessed.
Emma lifted the infant gently, and the child settled instantly.
Little boy or girl, who could have hurt you so? she cooed tenderly. Did such cruel parents abandon a babe in the cold?
Soon they were back inside. Emma placed the infant on the sofa, unfolded the swaddling, and gasped: before them lay a newborn girl, hardly a month old, in a threadbare shirt and a frayed bicycle blanket.
She needs food right away, and her nappy was probably changed hours ago, Emma said, tears trembling in her voice.
Ill run and buy everything, Thomas offered.
Get formula, a bottle, and nappies, Emma replied, rocking the warmed child, as if she might break into sobs at any moment.
Fifteen minutes later Thomas returned with a bag of supplies.
Here are disposable nappy pads, we have no other stock yet, he said, setting the sack down.
Great, well change her and feed her now, Emma cheered, bustling around the little one. The babys skin was speckled with tiny rashes; Emma gently massaged a baby cream into her torso and laid fresh pads beneath her. The child latched onto the bottle with a hunger that seemed to have been starving for ages.
We should call the police, otherwise it will look as if we stole her, Thomas suggested.
I agree, Emma replied, settling the contented baby into sleep.
At dawn, social workers and police officers arrived at their flat. Emma watched, heart clenched, as they took the infant away. In the single night she had become attached to the tiny soul, the separation struck her like a blow. Emma and Thomas had been childless for seven years. Once, Emma had been pregnant, but she lost the baby at four months. After that loss, hope of ever having a child seemed dim. Perhaps the found girl truly had lost her own parents
Alone, Emma and Thomas pondered the childs fate.
My love, how I wish I could hold her again! Shes so precious, Emma sighed.
Ive enjoyed all the fuss surrounding that little bundle, Thomas mused, looking out the window at a playground where mothers pushed prams. He imagined Emma among those happy mums and smiled.
Three months passed. Their dream came true. The authorities never located Poppys biological parents. Emma and Thomas were overjoyed. They bought everything a child could need: a pram, a cot, clothes, toys, and more. Poppy became their darling. Emma now strolled through the garden with a pink pram, chatting cheerfully with other mums about their tots. No one doubted that adoptive parents would move heaven and earth for their child.
Emma and Thomas raised Poppy well. At seventeen she left school with a gold medal and plans to study education.
After the graduation prom, the whole family gathered around a table to celebrate. Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door.
Ill get it. You lot sit tight, Thomas said with a grin as he hurried to the hallway.
A disheveled couple, clearly halfdrunk, burst into the lounge.
Congratulations, love, on finishing school! slurred a woman in a threadbare grey coat.
Were proud of you, dear! the man added, scratching his head as if searching for more words.
Who are you? Poppy leapt from her seat. Why are you here?
Were your real parents, the woman croaked, introducing herself as a mother. We found you on a park bench seventeen years ago.
Mom, dad, explain whats happening. Is this a joke? Poppy stared, bewildered, at the strangers and at Emma and Thomas, who exchanged glances.
Were your true parents, those two are just drunks looking for a drink, the man said.
Ah, youre handing out hangover cures now? Poppy retorted sarcastically. What are you even doing here?
Emma intervened, tears welling, and recounted the night they had found the baby on the bench.
Poppy, eyes flashing, said, If thats true, both of you are out of here! and pointed the unwanted guests toward the door.
Darling, why are you like that? Youve got younger siblings now, the ragged woman barked, tugging at her hair. Her husband shifted from foot to foot, looking as if hed lost his place in time. They seemed like people who sometimes forgot what season it was, let alone the hour on a clock.
Fine, Ill visit you soon, just get those strange folk out of our flat, Poppy promised, sealing the door behind them.
Thomas exhaled with relief.
What a stink they left! Emma complained, opening a window.
Poppy turned to her adoptive parents. Is that really true? she asked.
Her mother lowered her gaze.
Yes, love, her father admitted.
They told her how theyd found her on that snowladen bench, wrapped in an old blanket, and how theyd hurried through the paperwork to adopt her.
Then then, mum, dad, I love you even more! she whispered, almost in tears, hugging them both. She could not imagine what would have happened had they not appeared in the park that night.
Time moved on. The drunken intruders never returned. The family understood why they had turned up: the pair needed money for their drinking, and the abandoned girl could be a source of child benefit. But Poppy saw things differently. She wondered how such people could have several children and neglect them, realizing that such parents cared only for the cash they could extract.
Years later, Poppy finished her teacher training and took a post at a furthereducation college. Yet she never forgot that somewhere in the world she might have siblings. One day she decided to find them.
She set off with her boyfriend Ethan, a longtime friend who promised to help. They reached a dilapidated cottage that still seemed to have never known a repair in a hundred years.
Is this the place? Ethan asked, eyes widening.
It looks like it, Poppy replied, stepping onto the overgrown yard.
They knocked on the old wooden door. After a moment, footsteps sounded inside.
Remember us? a familiar, haggard voice muttered. Come in, love. Whos this with you? Your fiancé? We should pour a drink for him.
Im the fiancé, but were not here for that, Ethan answered calmly.
Then why are you here? Throw a penny to the kids, theyre starving, but Im left with nothing. Your father was buried a year ago, the woman grumbled, shrugging.
In the doorway appeared two wary children.
Here you go, Ethan said, handing them large boxes of sweets. The children snatched the gifts and vanished into another room.
At a table sat a lanky boy, eyes flickering nervously.
This is our Mick. Meet him. He’s shy but kind, dreams of learning, the woman whispered.
Poppy stepped forward, smiling gently. Nice to meet you. Im your sister.
The boy glanced sideways, hesitated, and offered a reluctant handshake.
Poppy and Ethan took Mick with them. He proved bright and eager. With Emma and Thomass support, Poppy arranged a scholarship for him and found him a flat in the city. She visited often; Mick blossomed, laughing, telling jokes, and brightening his familys days.
The mothers house still held two younger children, aged nine and ten. Poppy sometimes waited for them outside school, bringing bags of groceries. She felt genuine pity for the brother and sister, whose mother squandered all benefits on alcohol. Poppy invited them over, giving them a taste of a normal childhood, free from hardship. She and Ethan took them to the cinema, to fairs, and for simple park walks. One day the mother vanished, felled by the years of selfdestruction.
Thomas and Emma had earned a reputation as caring parents. Soon they welcomed two more children. Their nephews, Artie and Vicky, were mostly looked after by their cousin Mick and Poppy, who had more free time. The two grew up in a loving adoptive home, escaping the bleakness of their original broken household. They later became psychologists, opening their own practice where clients came in steady numbers.
