Page 46 of The Baby Plan

Samson spotted her glancing over at the baby monitor again. “She’s fine, don’t worry. The hospital did an amazing job and she’s so much better now. Hopefully, she’ll sleep brilliantly tonight and will be back to her smiley self tomorrow.”

“You’re right, she’s bounced back amazingly quickly.” She shook her head. “It was so scary to see her with the oxygen mask.” Tears threatened to fall at the memory of the previous day.

“I know, but it doesn’t help to dwell on it. I’m just so thankful we’re back home and she didn’t need to stay in for any longer.”

“I think another night would have broken me!”

“It wasn’t a night I’m keen to repeat any time soon,” Samson agreed.

* * *

The pair ate their delicious meal, reminiscing over their favourite Friends episodes, and generally making the most of being home again.

The couple of glasses of wine she’d drunk meant Sophie was feeling far more candid than usual. She debated with herself; the atmosphere was so relaxed, so natural she didn’t want to do anything to spoil it, but there were some things she needed to know, had wanted to know for a long time. The alcohol made her brave: “So... tell me about you and my sister...”

“What about us?” asked Samson, cagily.

“How did you meet?”

“At a party,” he said. “Natasha knew a couple of my friends. She’d been travelling with them years ago, and had only recently moved to Brighton.”

“How long did you date for?”

“It couldn’t truly be classed as proper dating,” answered Samson, looking like he’d rather not be having this conversation. “We hung out together for a few weeks. I tried to teach her to surf,” he said, with a little smile at the memory. “Then we kind of drifted apart. The next time I saw her was almost a year and a half later when she turned up on my doorstep. The night she died.”

“Did you love her?” Sophie wasn’t able to stop herself from asking the question she was so, so desperate to know the answer to.

“No,” he answered after a pause. “I sort of wish I had. We had a child together and now she’s gone, and I barely knew her, and that makes me feel sadder than the fact she’s gone... if that even makes any sense.”

“I get it,” said Sophie. “I feel kind of the same way about Natasha. She was always a worry to our parents and made home life very difficult. She was the archetypal awful teenager, but rather than growing out of that, it seemed to get worse. It culminated when she stole a lot of money from them and disappeared. I told you when our parents died, Natasha was travelling and I couldn’t get hold of her. She was funding her travels with their money. She tried to get in touch again months later when she returned to the UK, said she was living in Brighton, but I told her I wanted nothing to do with her, and I hadn’t seen her since.”

“You didn’t know what was going to happen,” Samson said kindly. “You were hurt by her actions.”

He was being so understanding, and so supportive, Sophie didn’t feel she could hide the truth from him anymore, and she said slowly, “That meant I didn’t know she got pregnant. I didn’t know anything about Alana until after Natasha died.”

Samson was silent as he contemplated what she’d said. He took a sip of wine, then asked, “Why didn’t you tell me before? I assumed you’d known Alana her whole life, had been part of her upbringing from day one.”

“I know, and I let you believe that because I was scared you’d use it against me. I thought you’d try to take Alana away from me if you were aware I was a stranger to her until the night she was handed to me by a friend of Natasha’s.”

Samson was silent, taking in everything she said before replying, “Perhaps you were right. You have done the most fantastic job looking after Alana, and there’s no way I would even contemplate you not having the role in her life you do now, but if I’d known straight away that you’d only just met her too, I think I may have tried to insist you handed her over to me.”

“I really am sorry for keeping it a secret for so long. I should have trusted you with the truth before now.”

“I understand,” he said. “It’s good it’s out in the open now. As we’re being this... direct, I had something I wanted to broach with you...”

“OK . . .” Sophie said, uncertainly.

“At the hospital, they called Alana, Alana Perring... which I know is her name, but... I’d like her to have my surname. She’s my daughter after all...”

“You want her to drop her mother’s surname?” Sophie said incredulously. Her surname was one of the few things Alana would have of her mother’s, a bond between them. Samson couldn’t take that.

“No, no!” said Samson quickly, immediately realising the sudden change in atmosphere and Sophie’s mood. “I was hoping to add my surname — I was thinking Perring-Smith. I would never take her mother’s surname from her! You don’t need to give me a response right away, but it’s important to me that you’re happy with it.”

“I... am,” said Sophie, calming down quickly and again breathing easily. “I think it’s a lovely idea — and thank you for asking my opinion. That means a lot.”

Samson smiled back at her. “Not a problem. I’m so glad you’re OK with it. It means a lot to me.” He nodded his head towards the garden. “Shall we take the rest of this wine outside? It’s a gorgeous evening.”

“Yeah, let me grab a jumper.”

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