The Firefighter's Baby

Laura looked down at the small face peeping out from the blue polar fleece blanket. Of course, she looked enough of a wreck to induce sympathy. The short, snatched periods of sleep between the dauntingly unfamiliar and full-on occupation of caring for such a young baby would take it out of anybody. Add the stress of being with somebody who was struggling to contain the desire to bail out, a house that was a prime example of how horrible three males could make their living environment and absolutely no baby equipment to make the job any easier, and she was nearly ready to bail out herself.

It had been precisely that threat that had finally persuaded Jason to come to this large specialist retail establishment.

‘Either we get some gear or you’re on your own, Jason Halliday,’ she had said wearily that morning. Astonishingly, she had experienced only a muted tingle at the sight of Jason wearing nothing but a pair of ancient pyjama pants held loosely on his hips by a frayed cord. His bare, well-tanned chest had only a smattering of hair, the tips of which had been sunbleached to a pale gold. The shaft of desire had put up only a weak struggle against burgeoning resentment.

‘I am not going to bathe this baby in a kitchen sink with a dishcloth that looks like it needs a government health warning slapped on it,’ Laura had continued. ‘And where the hell did these dishes come from? We spent two hours last night getting this bench cleared.’ She’d known she’d sounded like a harpy or a nagging wife but she hadn’t cared. The enthusiasm to make herself totally indispensable and show Jason just what a wonderful personality she had was wearing off with alarming rapidity.

‘Just look at that!’ The plate in question held the remnants of a meal that must have been abandoned a very long time ago. ‘It’s got so much fur growing on it, it looks like road kill.’

Jason’s grin was very lopsided. ‘I found it under my bed,’ he admitted. ‘And I found the rest when I was clearing out Stick’s room so you had somewhere to sleep.’ He rubbed the back of his hand against an unshaven chin. ‘It’s OK. I’ll clean it all up.’

‘You sure will,’ Laura agreed. It was really quite easy to dismiss the faint rasping sound the chin rub had produced. The curiosity about what it would feel like to touch it herself was also fleeting enough to ignore. ‘And when you’ve finished, we’re going to find a baby shop. We need more formula, nappies, a bed, a bath and some toys.’

‘Toys? Whatever for? All it does is eat and sleep and yell. You don’t need toys for any of that. She’s probably got buckets of toys at home.’ Jason peered anxiously at Laura. ‘You can’t leave me. I wouldn’t last five minutes without you.’

‘You might if you actually learned how to change a nappy and hold a bottle instead of insisting that I do it.’

‘But you’re so good at it. You’re a born mother, Laura. Megan loves you already.’

‘Rubbish.’ But Laura couldn’t help the tiny glow of satisfaction seeping through the cracks of her exhaustion. She might have considered the term ‘a born mother’ a slur on her attractiveness before this, but even twenty-four hours had been enough to demonstrate the kind of qualities a mother needed. Confidence, compassion, patience, selflessness and a bucket of stamina. From now on she would consider the phrase a huge compliment.

‘Besides,’ Jason said persuasively, ‘it’s not going to be for much longer. If Shelley hasn’t turned up in another day or so, we’ll do something about it. Track her down and find out what’s going on.’

The reminder was enough. Another glance at Jason allowed desire a stronger foothold and this time it was mixed with something new. Sympathy. Not that she could afford to feel too sorry for Jason. An echo of Mrs McKendry’s warning sounded. Laura wasn’t going to be a doormat for anyone ever again. Not even Jason Halliday. If this opportunity was going to provide what she hoped, however, she needed it to last as long as possible, and in order for any of them to survive they needed the help that the proper gear could provide.

‘I don’t care if it is only for another day, Jase.’ Laura managed to sound pleasingly resolute. ‘We have to get supplies. You can always give them to Megan when she goes.’

Jason sighed. ‘Yeah. I guess I’m going to be in for paying some kind of child support. I suppose I could look on this like a down payment.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ Laura said dryly. ‘Don’t forget to keep the receipts.’

Jason’s face brightened. ‘There you go. I wouldn’t have thought of that. Thank goodness I’ve got you around to look out for me.’

‘Just do the dishes, Jase. I’ll see if Megan’s other suit is dry enough to wear yet.’

So, here they were. Standing in a shop that boasted aisles and aisles of brightly coloured baby supplies in an astonishing wealth of variety. Neither Jason nor Laura had known where to begin and their bemused scanning had made them an obvious target for a sales assistant. And who could blame the girl for assuming they were a family or even for pointing out how tired they looked?

She could blame the assistant for the fluttering eyelashes, though, Laura thought grimly. You couldn’t assume you were talking to the proud parents of a new baby and then justify flirting with the father.

‘So what is it you need today?’

‘Everything,’ Jason said glumly.

‘Sorry?’ The sales assistant blinked.