Free Baby of Shame by Julia James Page A

wondered, offhand, when he’d last smiled. Not since Maureen Carter had put the call through from the social worker, that was for sure.
    ‘Have you? What did you do in the sea?’
    The big eyes shone.
    ‘Splashing!’
    ‘Show me.’
    There was no hesitation. His son filled up his bucket and then ejected the contents seawards.
    ‘See?’ He twisted his head round to Alexis.
    ‘Very good. Which do you think goes further? A bucket of water or a stone?’
    He watched as his son put down the bucket and picked up a small pebble.
    ‘Stone!’ shouted Nicky, as it plonked into the water, further out to sea.
    He picked up another one and threw it.
    ‘I know a trick with stones,’ said Alexis. He walked forward, almost to the sea’s edge. A quick, crouching search in the sand revealed a couple of round, flat pebbles. He straightened, hoping he could still do what he’d promised. He looked out to sea, narrowing his eyes with concentration as he readied his aim and the angle of his throw.
    ‘It bounced!’ His son’s voice was amazed. He looked up at Alexis, astonishment and respect in his face. ‘Do it again!’
    Alexis obliged.
    ‘ Two bounces!’ shouted Nicky. He jumped up and down. The water splashed Alexis’s trouser leg. He couldn’t care less.
    ‘Make it three!’ ordered Nicky.
    ‘Next time,’ said Alexis. He knew when to quit. He was amazed himself that he could still do that with flat pebbles. Memory stabbed through him. He’d taught himself how to do it as a boy, with painstaking, dogged, untaught practice during the endless summers he’d spent by the sea in the huge Petrakis summer villa on the coast of Attica. There’d never been anyone to play with. His father had always stayed in Athens, working.
    As for his mother—
    He sliced down the steel door, shutting out the past.
    His son was picking up stones and trying to make them bounce, without success.
    ‘I can’t do it!’ His voice was frustrated.
    ‘It’s a trick. I told you. I’ll teach you, but when you’re older.’
    ‘When I’m five?’ said Nicky.
    ‘Older. I learnt the trick when I was older than five.’
    ‘How old?’
    Alexis thought back. He didn’t want to, but he found himself doing it anyway.
    ‘Eight,’ he announced.
    Exactly eight, he remembered. It had been his birthday. His father had been in New York, on business. Alexis had been in the villa on his own, apart from the staff. He’d spent the day on the beach, doggedly practising with stones until he could make them bounce.
    ‘I will be eight in…’ His son carefully counted on his fingers, bringing Alexis back to the present, shutting the past back into its bleak grave. ‘One, two, three, four years.’
    ‘Very good,’ said Alexis. ‘ Kala . That means good in Greek.’ He paused. ‘We are in Greece. This is one of the Greek islands. There are hundreds of islands in Greece. If you can count in English,’ he went on, ‘you can count in Greek. Ena , thio , tria . That’s one, two, three . Can you say that?’
    Hesitantly, the little boy repeated the numbers. Something pierced inside Alexis.
    My son. Speaking Greek to me.
    ‘Very good,’ he said, and smiled down at his son.
    It seemed easier, that second smile.

CHAPTER FIVE
    R HIANNA stirred, sluggishly. Her head felt heavy; her body was aching. She must have been given a sedative, and the after-effects had made her feel groggy. She wondered how long she’d been asleep, and reached for her watch. As she did so she realised she was wearing her nightdress. Nurse Thompson must have got her changed, though she did not remember it.
    The watch showed ten-thirty a.m., and she realised she had slept through till morning.
    Simultaneously she remembered just why Nurse Thompson must have sedated her.
    Panic leapt in her breast.
    ‘Nicky!’
    Her voice was anguished.
    Had she called out loud?
    An instant later Nurse Thompson was entering her bedroom.
    ‘Now, now,’ she said calmly. ‘I will not have you upsetting