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Автор: Rosie Lewis
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
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Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780008171308
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       Copyright

      Certain details in this story, including names, places and dates, have been changed to protect the family’s privacy.

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      HarperElement

      An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published by HarperElement 2017

      FIRST EDITION

      © Rosie Lewis 2017

      Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2017

      Cover photograph © Victoria Haack/Trevillion Images (posed by model)

      A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

      Rosie Lewis asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

      Find out about HarperCollins and the environment at

       www.harpercollins.co.uk/green

      Source ISBN: 9780008113018

      Ebook Edition © January 2017 ISBN: 9780008171308

      Version: 2016-12-19

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Copyright

       By the same author

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Moving Memoirs eNewsletter

       About the Publisher

       By the same author

      Helpless (e-short)

       Trapped

      A Small Boy’s Cry (e-short)

      Two More Sleeps (e-short)

       Betrayed

      Unexpected (e-short)

       Torn

       Chapter One

      Mothers steered their buggies around the orange barricades, small wheels snagging on the rumpled pavement. The low hum of overheating motors filled the heavy air and behind me someone tooted their horn. Squinting against the plumes of dust, I watched a couple stepping out from the taxi in front of me, others ambling hand-in-hand towards the shops. On any other day I might have escaped the clattering of jackhammers and taken refuge down one of the sloping side streets, among the flower stalls and earthy cafés.

      As it was though, I didn’t mind being stuck behind the wheel. Browsing the central courtyard for samples of cedarwood and patchouli oil while street entertainers played the crowds was one of our most favourite weekend pursuits, but not nearly tempting enough to compete with the experience that lay ahead.

      It was a clear morning in mid-July 2011 and my Fiat was rolling slowly towards Queen Charlotte’s Hospital in the city centre where Megan, a baby girl, was being cared for by midwives. Born with a cleft palate three days earlier, Megan had been surrendered into the care of social services by her birth mother under a Section 20 voluntary order and, as a foster carer, I had been asked to begin daily visits to the special care baby unit with a view to bringing the newborn home as soon as she was well enough.

      Peggy, Megan’s social worker, was also responsible for another child in my care – Zadie, a 13-year-old girl who had been staying with us since May. Quiet and helpful, Zadie had begun to relax in her new home and, though I still had a few concerns about her, I was fairly confident that taking on another foster child wouldn’t undermine the fragile trust growing between us. When Peggy told me about Megan though, there was a moment’s hesitation before I agreed to become her foster carer.

      Having looked after little ones before, I knew how easily love could creep into your heart, stealthily taking you by surprise while your mind was distracted with other things. I also knew how painful it could be to say goodbye to children