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  No sooner had Ruby put down the phone than Chanel reappeared. Once all the customers had gone, Chanel had left as well, to give Ruby and Stella some space to talk. She had returned with Alfie, who was asleep in his stroller. For the moment, Ruby was too taken up with her own affairs to ask where Hannah was or how Chanel came to have Alfie.

  “So, what did Stella ’ave to say?” Chanel said.

  Ruby told her.

  “Whadda bitch,” Chanel muttered.

  “I’ll go to my bank to see what they’re prepared to lend me, but I’m pretty sure they won’t let me have the entire amount. But I absolutely refuse to let the business go without a fight. Not after I’ve worked so hard to build it up. I have to raise the money somehow. Thing is that right now I haven’t the foggiest what I’m going to do.”

  “That makes two of us,” Chanel said.

  “What do you mean?”

  She explained that after leaving the shop, she’d bumped into Hannah in the street. Hannah and Alfie had been on their way to the launch party. They went for coffee and Hannah burst into tears, saying she was exhausted and couldn’t cope with looking after Alfie. She begged Chanel to have him for a week or so.

  “Look at ’im, lying there—all innocent and perfect,” Chanel said to Ruby. “’Ow could I possibly have said no?”

  “But what are you going to do? Shouldn’t you tell somebody? The authorities?”

  Chanel shrugged. “Don’t see why. ’Annah has the right to ask a mate to look after ’er baby for a few days. And I’m ’appy to do it.”

  “But has it occurred to you that she might want you to have him for longer than just a few days? What if she asks you to keep him?”

  Chanel began stroking Alfie’s head. “No point jumping the gun. Let’s just wait and see ’ow she feels after she’s ’ad a break.”

  RUBY’S BANK MANAGER said the bank would be willing to lend her half the amount she needed to buy Stella out. That meant she still had to come up with £200,000. Her parents immediately suggested remortgaging their house, but supremely grateful as Ruby was for their offer, she wouldn’t hear of them risking their home. Fi and Chanel insisted something would turn up, but short of a miracle, Ruby couldn’t see what.

  From then on, Chanel brought Alfie to work for a few hours each day. He slept most of the time, but when he was awake Chanel couldn’t have been more loving and attentive. When she wasn’t cuddling him, playing with him or blowing raspberries on his tummy, she was showing him off to the customers. Everybody could see what a perfect mother she would make. “You’ve fallen in love with him, haven’t you?” Ruby said.

  “It’s not just me,” Chanel said, gazing at the sleeping child. “Craig ’as, too.”

  “Have you spoken to Hannah?”

  Chanel nodded. “I ’ad her on the phone for two hours last night. She loves ’im to bits, but you were right—she isn’t sure she can take ’im back.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Give ’er more time to think. At least until after Christmas.”

  “What if she still doesn’t want him back?”

  “Then we ’ave to inform Social Services.”

  “What do you think will happen to him?”

  She stroked Alfie’s cheek. “Once the authorities know that Claudia Planchette is his real mother, they’ll try to reunite ’im with ’er. I keep trying to convince myself it would be for the best.”

  “Would you and Craig take him if you could?”

  “You mean adopt ’im?”

  Ruby nodded.

  “In a ’eartbeat.”

  EVERY LUNCHTIME, CHANEL and Alfie went home and Fi arrived to take her place. Fi couldn’t have been more grateful for the work. Saul was still jobless and she was desperate to earn a few extra pounds to pay for Christmas. Helping out in the shop also gave Fi a break from her mother. Bridget had already arrived for her annual Christmas visit and was causing her usual mayhem. “Mum and Saul aren’t speaking after she heard him on the phone telling one of his friends he was leaving me because of another woman—my mother. The only light on the horizon is that Saul has got a couple more auditions lined up. We’ve got the bank and the Inland Revenue on our backs. I’m praying he gets something before Christmas.”

  While Ruby was busy at work, she didn’t have time to think about Sam. It was only when she got home in the evening and opened a bottle of wine that she allowed her emotions to take over. The problem was that despite everything, she couldn’t stop loving him. It was that along with her overwhelming sense of loss that made her cry herself to sleep every night.

  Every morning when she woke up, it took a few seconds before she remembered that Sam was gone from her life. The realization hit her like a wrecker’s ball. From time to time, she thought about calling him, but there seemed no point.

  Her spirits lifted a little when she discovered that Guatemalan week had raised £10,000 for the street children. A few of the celebrities, who had been invited to the launch but couldn’t make it, had sent extremely generous checks.

  It also turned out that one of Ruby’s customers knew a journalist on the Evening Standard and had mentioned to her how much Ruby had raised. The next thing Ruby knew, the features editor was on the phone saying they wanted to run a full-page article on Les Sprogs. Ruby got straight on the phone to Stella. She hoped Stella would be so impressed that she had managed to raise money for charity as well as achieving a PR spinoff for the shop that she would change her mind about pulling out of the business. In fact she barely reacted. Her only memorable comment was: “Have you heard from my attorney yet?”

  After she put the phone down from Stella, Ruby turned to Chanel. “She won’t budge.”

  “C’mon, don’t let ’er get you down. We’ll sort something out. I’ll talk to Craig. Some of ’is customers are loaded. Maybe you could touch some of them for a few grand. You never know.”

  “Yeah, you never know.” She smiled.

  CHANEL AND FI insisted Ruby take off the weekend before Christmas. “We’ve got all our child care sorted,” Chanel said. “You go ’ome and rest.”

  Ruby put up a fight, but not much of one. Not that she planned to rest. Christmas was only a few days away and she hadn’t done any shopping.

  On Saturday morning she woke up and waited for the now-familiar pain to engulf her. She let the tears come. Then, after a few minutes she forced herself out of bed. She put on her dressing gown, went into the kitchen and made a strong cup of coffee.

  As she sipped it, her thoughts turned to Jill McNulty and Hardacre. She wondered where she went from here. With Hannah’s testimony, Jill McNulty’s list and her own evidence that Tom Hardacre had tried to bribe her to keep quiet, she clearly had enough information to take to the newspapers. So what was stopping her? She knew it could only be loyalty to Sam. Even with all the evidence against him, part of her was still struggling to accept that he was involved.

  The other thing bothering her was that the moment the story appeared in the newspapers, St. Luke’s reputation would be ruined. Despite her fury about what was happening there, Ruby didn’t want to be responsible for bringing down a world-famous maternity hospital. Once the story made the headlines, it would be almost impossible to convince people that the entire medical staff wasn’t on the take from the surrogacy scam. Then again—as she’d told Jill and Hardacre—it was bound to leak out eventually if Hannah decided to sue Claudia for the money she owed her. Even if she didn’t go to court, Alfie’s true identity would have to be revealed when Chanel handed him over to Social Services. It wouldn’t be long before some opportunistic employee sold the story to the newspapers.

  Once the press got wind of the story, Hannah would be hounded by tabloid journalists. They might choose to ignore the fact that she became a surrogate mother to help pay her university fees. Instead they might accuse her of greed and of being an unfit mother to her twins. Fingers would be pointed and her life could be ruined.

  At the same time Claudia migh
t end up taking Alfie simply because her fans would hate her and her career would be finished if she didn’t. Ruby dreaded to think what sort of a life he would have with her as a mother.

  Much as Ruby wanted Jill McNulty, Hardacre and Claudia exposed, she couldn’t help thinking that this was one story that should never see the light of day.

  After she’d finished her coffee, she decided to give Hannah a call to see how she was doing.

  “Do you think I’m really wicked for not wanting to take Alfie back?” It was clear from her voice that she was deeply troubled.

  “No. I don’t think you’re wicked.” Ruby could hear what sounded like both twins crying in the background. “You’re a single mum and you’ve got two young children of your own to care for. I think you’re making the right decision.”

  “I’ve been a complete idiot getting involved with this surrogacy thing, but I really thought Claudia couldn’t have any more children and that I was helping her. I had no idea what was really going on. Having said that, the moment I met her I could see she was crazy.”

  “Look, you were trying to earn some money to finance going back to uni. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. You were a bit naive, that’s all.”

  “A bit? That’s an understatement.”

  “C’mon, you made a mistake. A pretty big one, I’ll admit, but you have to stop beating yourself up.”

  She asked if Ruby had given any more thought to how they were going to expose Jill and Hardacre. Hannah seemed happy to leave all the decision making to Ruby. It was clear she didn’t have the time or energy to take it on. Ruby told her what had been going through her mind. They agreed it needed more thought and that they would speak again after Christmas.

  AS CHRISTMAS DREW closer, Ruby thought she might get a call or at least a card from Sam, but nothing came. She was sad not to hear from him, but bearing in mind the ease with which he had left her, she wasn’t surprised.

  She spent Christmas Day with her parents. Ronnie, who looked almost ready to pop, wasn’t allowed to lift a finger.

  On Christmas morning, Aunty Sylvia and Ruby arrived early to start preparing lunch. Phil had done all the food shopping a few days before. He’d bought everything apart from the turkey. That, along with several bottles of vodka, had been delivered courtesy of Ivan. The presents were a thank-you to Phil for helping to save his life. Apparently Ivan had also located the nurse who’d managed to restart his heart and sent her a turkey and vodka, too.

  Aunty Sylvia took control in the kitchen. Ruby, who hated cooking roasts—even when it wasn’t Christmas—because she could never get the timing right, was perfectly happy to be her sous chef.

  “You know,” Aunty Sylvia said, wiping the end of her nose with the back of a stuffing-coated hand, “I never really apologized for the dreadful scene Nigel and I caused the other day in the shop. We just got carried away. I’m so sorry. I feel so guilty that I was responsible for Stella pulling out of the business.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ruby said, cutting another cross at the base of a Brussels sprout. “It wasn’t just you. Stella thought the whole event was tacky and she hated the fact that I’d organized it behind her back.” She put the sprout in a bowl of water and took another one from the bag.

  “So, how’s Ivan?” Aunty Sylvia asked. Ruby said she had spoken to him and that he was back home and doing fine.

  “Thank the Lord for that. Have you given any more thought to buying Stella out?”

  Ruby shrugged. “I’ve had plenty of thoughts. What I need is the money. Stella’s attorney is putting pressure on me to pay up or agree to sell.”

  “You know, I’ve got a bit of money put away. It’s not much, but if it would help.”

  “That’s kind and I appreciate the offer, but you haven’t got enough to gamble with. If for some reason the business went belly-up, I wouldn’t be able to repay you and I couldn’t live with that.”

  Aunty Sylvia grabbed another load of stuffing and shoved her hand back up inside the bird. “There’s always Nigel,” she said. “He’s pretty loaded.”

  “Nigel? I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable asking your ex for money.”

  “My ex? Who told you we’d split up?”

  “Nobody. I just assumed…after the…you know…the whole underwear thing.”

  “We’re working it out. He’s seeing a therapist. She’s helping him look at his relationship with his father. Apparently he was very domineering. As a result Nigel grew up feeling the need to reject his masculine side and embrace his feminine one.”

  “So at least he’s stopped wearing women’s clothes.”

  “Oh, no,” Aunty Sylvia said waving her hand carelessly so that a great lump of stuffing fell to the floor. “He’ll probably always want to do it. But I can live with that.”

  “You can?”

  “That’s your Aunty Sylvia—only happy when she’s got a project.” It was Ronnie. She made her way over to the sink and began filling the kettle.

  “You know what, Ronnie? Maybe you’re right. Maybe I do enjoy trying to help the men in my life. But it seems to work for me. We’ve joined a support group for couples in our position and Nigel thinks I’d be brilliant at advising the men how to dress and do their makeup. He thinks I should go into business selling women’s clothes designed especially for men. I’m thinking of calling it Girls with Big Hands.”

  “Well, as long as you’re OK with the situation,” Ronnie said. “That’s all that matters.”

  “I am,” Aunty Sylvia said defiantly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going upstairs to wash my hands.”

  After she’d gone, Ronnie turned to Ruby. “And how are you coping, darling?”

  Ruby hadn’t wanted to worry her mother by telling her how she had broken into the storeroom at St. Luke’s, or what had happened between her and Sam. The problem was that Ronnie, whose antennae were always on full alert, could tell that Ruby was keeping something from her. She’d kept pestering Ruby to tell her what was going on and eventually Ruby had given in.

  “I’m having second thoughts about exposing the surrogacy story,” she said.

  “I can see that. The hospital would be finished.”

  “And I’m worried that your care might be put in jeopardy. You and I have the same surname. Some bent midwife could easily make the connection.”

  Ronnie nodded. “If you do decide to go ahead with the story, I’ll arrange for Dr. Beech to deliver the baby at the Portland.”

  Ruby agreed that might be for the best.

  “Darling, I’m so sorry about you and Sam. I know it sounds trite, but the pain will ease sooner or later.”

  Ruby said she just wished it could be sooner rather than later. Ronnie put her arms round her daughter. “You know your dad and I are always here if you need us. I don’t want you to think that little Sigmund’s arrival is going to make any difference to that.”

  Ruby smiled. “I know it won’t. I love you.”

  “Love you, too.” Ronnie kissed her daughter on the forehead.

  Just then the switch on the kettle clicked itself off. “You stay there,” Ruby said. “I’ll make the coffee.” She had taken no more than a couple of steps when she felt herself starting to slide across the floor. She reached out to grab the counter, but it was just out of reach. Several times she almost righted herself. Finally she fell backward and landed hard on the floor.

  “You OK?” Ronnie gasped, heaving herself off her chair.

  Ruby had managed not to bash the back of her head, but she had landed awkwardly. Somehow her foot had ended up underneath her. As she eased it out, she grimaced with pain. She also noticed that it was covered in sage and onion stuffing. “Actually, no, I’m not. I’ve done something to my ankle.”

  Aunty Sylvia, who was her company’s official “firstaider,” diagnosed a bad sprain and wrapped up the ankle. For the rest of Christmas Day, Ruby sat next to Ronnie on the sofa, her foot up on the coffee table. At one point Ruby and Ronnie needed to go to the
loo at the same time. Phil said watching the pair of them trying to climb the stairs was like watching two old-age pensioners trying to rock-climb.

  Nigel, who’d had Christmas lunch with his elderly parents, arrived chez Silverman around teatime. Phil, who knew all about Nigel’s penchant for ladies’ lingerie, barely knew where to look. His awkwardness wasn’t helped by the fact that he had downed a substantial amount of Ivan’s splendid vodka before lunch, not to mention several glasses of wine with lunch. “What can I get you, Nigel? A glass of champagne or a cuppa?”

  Nigel said tea would be great.

  “So what cup size would you like? Sorry, I mean would you like a mug or a D cup. I mean teacup.”

  His faux pas didn’t stop there. A few minutes later he was asking Nigel if he’d seen the Manchester United game the previous week. “What a load of big girls’ blouses. If you ask me they were complete rubbish.”

  Before anyone could stop him, he began admiring Nigel’s new tawny-colored sweater, which Aunty Sylvia had bought him for Christmas. “So what color is that, Nigel? Sort of gusset, would you say?”

  As usual Ruby had no plans to reopen the shop until after the first week in January. People who shopped at Les Sprogs tended to go away just before Christmas or shortly after and were never back before the fifth of January. Since her ankle was still very swollen and painful and she couldn’t drive or stand on it, she was grateful for the time off.

  On New Year’s Eve she took a taxi to Chanel and Craig’s. Earlier in the week Chanel had rung to say they were planning a quiet dinner and would she like to join them. She’d been invited to Fi and Saul’s, but they were having a family evening with his parents and loads of other relatives, and even though they assured her she wouldn’t be intruding, Ruby still felt she might.