Chapter 7
Spencer
Having just opened his laptop to browse through pictures of past events on the Sunshine Centre’s website to grab some inspiration for the kindness festival idea, the doorbell rang.
Spencer sighed to the ceiling. ‘Typical.’ He’d just got comfy as well, snuggling on the sofa, a hot chocolate to his side, and a blanket on his legs.
The idea to ignore the caller, knowing it wouldn’t be Lottie because she was still in Devon with Samuel, didn’t last long. It still could be important, so begrudgingly he got up, sliding into his navy slippers.
Plodding down the stairway while stretching his back, he yawned. Who on earth was knocking for him at gone nine o’clock at night?
It took two looks to register the pram on his doorstep, and even then he was sure he must be seeing things. Checking along the street for the owner, he called out, but no one answered.
Bags and boxes were often left of a night outside the charity shop, and someone had placed a box of non-perishable food items in front of the Hub one night. Maybe the pram had just rolled his way. Although, why the owner had rung his bell was anyone’s guess.
Spencer gazed in the pram, expecting to see such items. His jaw hung loose as he came face to face with a baby. An actual real-life baby.
What the hell!
It didn’t matter how many times he looked, nothing changed. A sleeping baby was in a pram on his doorstep and there was no sign of anyone else in the street.
After confusion faded, Spencer thought it best to take the baby into the warmth of his flat and call the police. He checked once more before closing his door, but still there was no one about.
Grabbing his phone, he peered down at the cute infant. ‘Aww, bless. Don’t worry, I’ve got you,’ he whispered. He went to straighten, then noticed the note wedged along the side. Straight away his stomach flipped and he felt pity for the child.
Please don’t tell me this is what I think it is .
He sat on a chair close to the pram and unfolded the paper, shoulders sinking immediately, as it became quite clear from the first line that it was exactly what he thought. Someone had purposely dumped their baby. But why on his doorstep? Why not somewhere else, like the church? It wasn’t far.
With little brain power to enter the mind of the mother, Spencer continued to read the letter out loud so he absorbed each and every word.
‘ Please look after my baby. His name is Archie, and he’s three months old. He likes cuddles, and his favourite toy is the small panda in his pram .’ Spencer took a moment to control his breathing. His heart was already broken for the poor little thing. ‘ I just need some time. Please don’t tell anyone. I’ll come back, I promise. ’
The watermark made Spencer visualize a teardrop falling on the page. He glanced at his phone, wondering if a call to his friend Henley would be the best idea. Henley was a social worker, after all, and he worked closely with the Hub. He’d know the right channels to go through for this sort of situation. Perhaps he could call January Riley. As a therapist she might be able to track down the mother and offer help. Jan was brilliant like that. He’d seen her help many people who came into the Hub.
Little Archie was none the wiser, and Spencer was still utterly gobsmacked. He read the next line on the note and all colour drained from his already pale face.
That did not just say that .
He double-checked. Reading aloud to help the words sink in. ‘ He’s your son, Spencer. Please believe me. He’s yours, and I just need you to care for him a little while .’
Not much else happened for a few beats after that discovery, as Spencer fell into some sort of trance with the pram.
A low grumble came from the baby, causing Spencer to jump to his feet, arms splayed in front as if telling the child to halt.
Archie settled, and Spencer inhaled deeply, feeling his chest tighten.
This isn’t happening. No, no, no .
He held the letter high to his face, staring at it blankly until his brain woke and caught up with the moment. The next part of the letter told him the baby would want feeding at around eleven, then should settle till early morning.
The large grey bag hanging on the handle caught his eye. It was bulging but sealed. Moving it to the table to unpack, one of the first things he saw was the large tub of powdered milk. He hadn’t made up a bottle since he was eight. Had much changed? The bottles looked clean, but had they been sterilized? It was a relief to see a box of sterilizing tablets in the bag. Quickly, he pulled out a bowl from one of the lower cupboards in the kitchen and got on with the task, following the instructions as best he could with a frazzled mind.
Archie was still enjoying his snooze time, which was a small mercy. What would he think when he woke to find his mother gone and some strange man holding his food?
Raking a hand through his locks, he flopped back onto the chair. ‘What the hell am I going to do?’ he mumbled.
Something needed to make sense so he could take the next step, but his head was in a whirl. He glanced once more at the snuggled bundle, noticing little Archie had a touch of Lottie about his features. Was this really his child? Not that it mattered to his current situation. A boy needed care, and care he would get, whoever he was.
Spencer chewed the inside of his cheek as he contemplated calling his sister. Lottie would tell him to call social services, as most would, but most hadn’t been whisked off to live with strangers like he had as a child, so why would they understand his reluctance to hand the kid over?
Still, he felt the need to talk to someone, and Lottie was the one he trusted most in the world.
I can’t. She’s enjoying her birthday trip .
Well, that was one excuse, and a pretty solid one at that, but he knew he was going to have to tell her at some point, especially as it appeared Archie was sticking around for a while, and Lottie would notice when he turned up for work pushing a pram.
Best get it over with .
‘Spence? Is everything all right?’ Lottie said before he’d had a chance to say hello.
It was late, after all, and she knew he knew she was in Devon, sharing a romantic break with her partner.
Spencer swallowed hard while trying to find the right words for the job. ‘Something’s happened. I have a guest. Well, the thing is . . . So, what happened was . . . erm.’ His shoulders drooped along with his voice.
‘Spit it out, Spence. You’re making my nerves rattle.’
‘It’s a baby. He’s here. Archie. He’s right here.’
There was silence for a moment, then Lottie cleared her throat. ‘Okay, Spence, you need to take a breath, then explain using a proper sentence.’
Inhaling deeply only made him lightheaded. ‘Someone left a baby on my doorstep just now.’
Lottie’s gasp caused him to move the phone from his ear. ‘What! Have you called the police?’
The memory of officers dragging his parents off to a police car hit.
‘Spencer!’ Lottie shouted.
‘No,’ he snapped, not meaning to.
Her breathing had settled, he could hear, but he knew she was still annoyed by his lack of action.
‘What’s going on?’ came Samuel’s muffled voice in the background.
Spencer listened while his sister explained. It wasn’t long before she was back to talking to him.
‘Look, Spence, I know how you feel about foster homes and such, but if someone’s left their baby, the police have to know, or at least call Henley. He’ll know what to do for the best.’
‘He’s my son.’
Silence loomed.
Lottie must have mouthed the information to Samuel, because Spencer heard him say, ‘Oh.’
‘I’ll be there as soon as I can,’ said Lottie. ‘Sam’s already packing our things.’
‘No, you don’t need to come here. Enjoy your last night at the hotel. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Lottie scoffed, cracking the line. ‘Oh, yeah, because I’m really going to sleep soundly tonight with this on my mind.’ A loud sigh followed. ‘How do you know he’s your son?’ she asked quietly, sounding somewhat suspicious.
Spencer explained about the letter, then read it out when she asked to hear it. There was another round of silence, which was good, as he needed the break to wrap his head around the facts too.
‘Do you know who she is?’ asked Lottie.
The question made him cringe at his old self. He’d had way too many one-night stands, but as far as he was concerned, he’d always been careful. While shaking his head at himself, Lottie repeated her question, this time with a snap to her tone.
‘No,’ he mumbled.
‘Oh, come on. Surely you must have some idea. The letter said Archie’s three months, right? So add that to the nine months in the womb, assuming she went full term, and that’s twelve months. One year, Spence. What were you doing around this time last year?’
‘How can you expect me to remember what . . .’ He trailed off as his cogs started to turn. Yes, yes he did know what he was doing in February the year before. He was at the childcare conference, as it was helpful to his course. ‘Bloody hell,’ he muttered, eyes widening at the memory.
After Lottie’s accident, he’d made the decision not to sleep around anymore, but he caved that one night at the hotel. The regret he’d felt the next morning waking in his room had him leaving for home before the sun came up. He’d been so thankful he’d left her room the night before. At least he didn’t have to see her ever again.
He gazed at Archie.
‘I honestly thought you’d stopped all that, Spence,’ said Lottie, waking him from his memory. ‘You said you had when you finally told me about your new chapter.’ The disappointment in her tone didn’t go unnoticed.
‘She was the last time,’ he said, wallowing in his own disappointment. ‘I haven’t been with anyone since. And now I’m thinking clearly, it has to be her.’
‘Do you know her name?’
Even though she couldn’t see him, he still shook his head. His lack of reply told her the answer.
‘Oh,’ said Lottie. ‘Well, where did you meet her?’
‘A conference.’
Lottie seemed to perk up. ‘That’s good. We can track her down from there. Was she staff, a delegate? A—’
‘I didn’t see her on any panels, so I can only assume she was there to learn, like me.’ He flopped his head to the table. ‘Oh, I don’t know.’
‘It’s okay, we’ll figure it out.’
‘We don’t have to do anything, Lott. She said she’d be back soon. I can speak to her then.’
‘No, Spence. We need to find her as soon as possible. She’s obviously not well or struggling somehow to dump her baby. She needs help. Maybe she’s in a dangerous situation or something. We can’t just wait around to see if she pops back up.’
Spencer straightened. He’d been so preoccupied with finding out he had a son, wondering what to do next, and talking to his sister, he didn’t stop to think the mother might be in danger. He glanced once more over her written words. ‘She said she just needed some time.’ Saying the words out loud somehow comforted him. ‘He’s so young, she probably got a bit overwhelmed with it all.’ He hoped it was something as simple as that.
Lottie sighed. ‘I’ll be there soon.’
‘No need. It’s late, and he’ll want a bottle in a couple of hours, then we’ll all need some sleep. I’m not doing anything about this till morning, so you might as well come round then.’
‘Spencer, please call someone.’
‘In the morning. Just let him settle here tonight. Like I said, it’s late.’
‘But what if she’s hurt?’
A pain hit his temple. He couldn’t think about that. A baby needed him. His baby, by all accounts. And something told him the mother would return. Maybe it was hope, but it was what he held on to as he hung up his call and turned once more to stare into the pram.