Page 5 of The Baby Plan

“Are you a friend of hers?” Sophie questioned. Was it her imagination, or was this guy being deliberately elusive? And why did he seem so fascinated with the screaming child in her arms? — his attention still hadn’t left her.

“You could say that,” he answered after a pause. “I’m Samson. Alana’s father.”

Shocked, all Sophie could think of to say was, “Oh.” Having been told there was no dad in the picture, she hadn’t truly considered Alana having a father. She’d been too fixated on the immensity of events, and functioning moment to moment, to give it any more thought yet.

“So, is Natasha here?” Samson asked again.

Finding the words difficult, Sophie took her turn at being evasive. “If you’re Alana’s father, why didn’t you recognise her?”

Things didn’t quite seem to fit together here she realised. Subconsciously she held the child closer, already unknowingly feeling a fierce maternal instinct towards her.

Samson’s piercing blue eyes rose to properly meet hers, and she almost wished they hadn’t as they weighed her in silence for a moment.

“If you must know, I’ve only met Alana once before. Very briefly. I... didn’t get to see her properly.” He scanned her face. “You’re very like Natasha, are you her sister?”

Sophie nodded in affirmation, emotion stifling her voice.

“I’m assuming she didn’t tell you that I didn’t even know she was pregnant,” he continued, clearly taking her lack of comment as judgement and anxious to justify himself. “She only told me about Alana last night, when she brought her to my house, and then she ran off. I’ve been trying to call her mobile, but it’s going straight to voicemail, so I thought I’d try here. Is she around?”

“You’d better come in,” said Sophie, opening the door fully. She was aware she knew nothing about this man. But he seemed honest, or at least direct — which may or may not amount to the same thing she mused — and surely no one would make up a story like that.

They stood uneasily in the hall, Alana still screaming incessantly and Sophie trying to think how to word what she needed to tell him.

“Why is she crying?” Samson asked.

“She’s hungry. I think. I was in the middle of getting her bottle ready. Would you hold her for me for a minute?”

Samson appeared a little alarmed, but accepted Alana. “This is for you,” he said gently, handing her the teddy bear. She took it from him and clung to it, but didn’t stop wailing.

Sophie added the scoops of powder to the water she’d poured into the bottle as quickly as possible and tested it on her wrist like she’d seen someone do somewhere — possibly in a movie — to check it wasn’t too hot.

“It seems ready,” she said, thankfully, and Samson handed Alana back to her. She held the bottle out to Alana and the little girl grabbed hold of it, popped it in her mouth and began drinking greedily, stopping crying immediately. Sophie and Samson both heaved a grateful sigh.

Again their eyes met, but Sophie quickly glanced away. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?” he asked her.

“I’m Sophie.”

“Is Natasha here?” he said, determinedly repeating his earlier question. “It’s really important I speak to her.”

“No, she’s not,” said Sophie, and took a deep breath before continuing. “Um... There isn’t a good way of saying this. I’m guessing you guys weren’t particularly close right now, but... um... so... Natasha was killed in a car crash last night.” The last part came out in a rush, the words almost tripping over each other.

“What?” Samson’s face lost all its colour as he processed what she’d said.

“I don’t know the details of how it happened yet,” went on Sophie, trying to keep her voice steady and her rapidly welling tears in check.

Samson was quiet and stared down at his feet; startled and bewildered at the news.

“That’s awful,” he said finally. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s OK,” muttered Sophie.

“Was Alana in the car?”

“No, she was with a babysitter.”

“Thank goodness,” Samson commented. “What happens now? With the baby?” he continued rhetorically. He ran a hand through his hair, thinking. Unhappily he asked, “So, who do I get in touch with?”

“What do you mean?” replied Sophie.

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