“Is that really what you’re focussing on?” Sebastian asks, collapsing back onto the sofa. “We have a baby.” He looks at Cami’s carrier, his face inscrutable.
“Yeah,” Cy agrees. “We have a baby, and our neighbor is fit.” He jabs a finger at me. “And he knew, and didn’t tell me. What the Hell, man?”
My cheeks warm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I was wondering why you always fixed your hair before you walked past her in the lobby. I never really looked at her before. It all makes sense, now.”
Cami yawns in my arms, her eyes falling half-shut. She just woke up from her nap, but she looks ready to go back to sleep already. Maybe she didn’t nap long enough? I hesitate, then cross the room and slip her back into her carrier.
It’s not like we have any toys for her to play with, anyway. She may as well sleep the rest of this crappy day away. I settle her in the car seat, and she twists, pressing her fat cheek against the padding as she snuggles down.
Sebastian rubs his temples. “I can’t believe Anisha did this,” he mutters.
Cy snorts, draping himself over the sofa cushions. “Can’t you? Why not? We barely knew the girl. And there wasn’t a whole lot of time to give her a mental health assessment between foursomes.”
“She seemed like a rational, normal person,” Seb argues. “A rational person would have contacted us when she found out that she was pregnant. She would have called us after giving birth. She would have handed Cami over, instead of leaving her on a doorstep.”
Cyrus’s face darkens. “I guess she was really messed up,” he says slowly. “Really out of her head.”
We all go quiet, the implications of that sinking in. What has Cami already been through? Has she been looked after, these last few months? Beth said that she seemed healthy; she came in with clean clothes and hair, and judging by her pudgy limbs, she’s definitely not been going hungry. But being clean and fed is a pretty shit baseline for childcare.
I glance back at the carrier. Cami’s little feet are kicking slightly as she sleeps, her tiny fist curled up by her cheek. Suddenly, all I want to do is pick her up and hold her close.
Sebastian pulls out his phone. “We need to talk to Anisha again. I’ll ring the rehab centre. They must have some kind of accommodation for the children of addicts.”
My eyes widen. “No!” Cyrus and I say, simultaneously.
“She can’t just put her child on our doorstep and then leave!” Seb protests.
“Our child,” Cyrus points out. “She belongs to one of us. She could be mine.” He stands, anger hardening his usually easygoing expression. “And I will be fucked if you try to give my daughter back to the woman who left her outside, in the cold, like Harry fucking Potter. The woman’s not proven herself to be a natural mother.”
“And are you a natural father?” Seb counters, clenching his fists.
“I’ve not abandoned her to starve alone in the middle of London, so I believe I’m currently doing better than her, yes. We all are.”
Seb throws up his hands. “We couldn’t even change the child’s nappy! What if she gets sick? Or she’s crying, and we can’t stop it? Something could be really wrong with her, and we wouldn’t know what! We have no idea how to look after a kid!”
There’s a beat of silence, then Cyrus shrugs. “Easy. We hire the hot nanny.”
“We don’t even know her credentials, yet—”
He groans. “Christ. Why do you have to make things so difficult? Beth’s unemployed. She lives sixty seconds away. Cami already likes her. Jack fancies her. How many more signs do you need the universe to give you?”
“I don’t fancy her,” I protest.
“Say her name without blushing.”
I open my mouth, then snap it shut again.
Cyrus sighs, running a hand over his eyes. “Look. I don’t know what the Hell we’re doing. All I know is that a baby just got abandoned by her mum today. That tiny little girl.” He points at Cami. “She’s already lost everything, and she’s a goddamn infant. We have to try to look after her. She deserves someone who will.”
We all look at Cami. She sighs in her sleep, her soft curls stirring, and flexes her miniature fingers. She looks as fragile as a doll.
Cyrus shakes his head, his shoulders slumping. “I’m going to work,” he mutters, bending over Cami’s carrier to press a kiss to her cheek. “Don’t wait up, gorgeous,” he tells her. “I’m gonna be a while.”
He grabs his keys and heads out, shutting the door softly behind him. As soon as the lock clicks shut, Cami squirms, whimpers, and then starts crying again.
I float over to the carrier and pick her up. She cries louder at first, bashing me with her tiny fists, so I jog her around a bit, like Beth did. Eventually, she settles with a sob, burying her face into my chest. Warmth floods through me, so strong and sudden I feel almost dizzy. She’s so small. I bend my head to kiss her hair, breathing in her sweet smell.
I haven’t thought about kids in a long time. Not since a couple of years ago, when one of our exes had a pregnancy scare. Back then, I’d wanted that kid desperately.
And now, here I am, with a baby in my arms. It feels almost surreal. I bob her up and down until she stops grizzling, then carefully settle her back into the car seat, wiping off her wet cheeks. “There we go,” I say quietly. “You’re okay, baby. It’s safe to sleep.”
She snuffles, curling up in a sad ball. I keep stroking her cheek until she relaxes again, dropping off. I sit back on my haunches and look at her.
“You’re good with her,” Seb says over my head.
I glance up at him. He’s standing frozen by the sofa, watching. His face is pale. “Are you okay?” I ask. “You look like crap.”
“I’m fine,” he mutters. His phone bleeps. He checks it, and his mouth tightens. “Shit. I have a teleconference call.”
I nod. “I’ll stay out here with her.”
His forehead wrinkles. “You have another bug report to go through,” he reminds me, and I swallow a groan.
“I’ll work on it out here. It’s fine. Cami can help me.”
He nods jerkily and disappears, and I fetch my laptop, settling down next to Cami’s car seat. As soon as I power the computer up, my email notifications start dinging madly. I wince.
I don’t suppose there’s ever a great time to have a surprise child left on your doorstep, but this really is pretty inconvenient. I’m crazy busy. My new mobile game is due to release in less than two months, and it’s stressing me the Hell out.
Seb and I started Trinity Games last year, after a mobile-based fantasy game I developed as a hobby blew up online. This will be our second release, and I’ve spent thousands of hours writing and programming it. It has to be perfect.
I scan the emails. They’re all notifications of bugs in the coding, picked up by our beta team. We have a new round of tests tomorrow, so I need to fix as many of them as I can before morning. I sigh and get to work.
Cami starts grumbling after about ten minutes. I rock her a bit, typing with one hand, and she settles down for a minute or two, but her cries eventually get louder. I look up when the smell hits me. It’s pretty obvious why she’s upset.
“Okay,” I say, setting my laptop down. “Let’s see if we can do this without Beth, shall we?”
I pick Cami up and take her to Beth’s makeshift changing station, laying her down carefully on the towels. Cami bawls as I untape her nappy. “It’s okay,” I tell her, in what I hope is a soothing voice. “I know you’re having a really bad day. But you’re safe, now. We’re gonna take care of you. Okay?” I turn and grab the box of nappies that Cy bought earlier. They all have animals printed on the front. “Which one do you want?” I hold them up for her to see. “Lion or koala?”
Cami roars.
“Lion it is.” I set it to the side, and then peel up the tabs on her dirty nappy, carefully sliding it down. When I get a look at the inside, I freeze. Panic spikes through me.
Oh no.
“Seb,” I call, my voice wavering. “Come here a sec.”
“One minute,” he mumbles from inside his bedroom.
“Now. I think there’s something wrong with Cami.”
