CHAPTER THREE

      ALICE FOUND HERSELF staring at the doors as the sound grew louder. Julien had gone pale. He got to his feet and walked past her without a word. Without thinking, Alice stood up and followed him.

      There seemed to be two groups of people at the other end of the huge room. Two men wearing dark suits, facing each other and talking loudly. Behind the second man were two women. One was older and wore an apron. A younger woman was carrying the baby, who couldn’t be more than about three months old. The age of the youngest of the children who attended the pre-school educational centre she worked for.

      The age Julien’s nephew or niece would have been by now?

      Julien was walking swiftly, as though he intended to stop them coming any further. Alice was a few steps behind by the time they all stopped.

      They spoke French, of course, so she couldn’t understand a word but she could pick up a sense of what was going on. There was a problem of some kind and Julien wanted nothing to do with it. She couldn’t be sure that he’d even looked at the baby, having positioned himself alongside one of the men so that he was only facing the other man and the older woman. Their voices rose over the sound of the baby crying and the younger girl was looking ready to cry herself.

      Alice might teach the older pupils at the Kindercare Nursery School but she had had enough experience with the youngest children to know that this baby wasn’t well. The crying was punctuated by coughing. He had a runny nose and kept rubbing at his eyes with a small fist. His mother, if that’s who she was, jiggled the bundle she held with what looked like a desperate attempt to comfort him. When she looked away from the heated discussion happening between the others, she met Alice’s gaze and there was a plea in that look that Alice could not ignore.

      She moved closer, her arms outstretched in an invitation to give the mother a break from a stressful situation. Astonishment gave way to relief as Alice took the baby, unnoticed by anyone else. She walked away, back towards the conservatory, with the thought that she could at least give them a chance to talk without having to shout over the wailing, which was probably becoming a vicious cycle as the loud voices distressed the baby further.

      ‘It’s okay, sweetheart,’ she told the baby. ‘You’re just miserable, aren’t you? Look, it’s cooler in here. Let’s get that blanket off you and let you cool down, shall we?’

      The tone was one she used with any unhappy child and her movements were calm and confident as she unwrapped the covering that would be far too hot for a baby who was probably running a temperature.

      ‘You’ve got a cold, haven’t you?’ Spikes of damp, dark hair covered the baby’s forehead and Alice smoothed them back. ‘They’re rotten things, colds, but you know what?’

      The exaggeration of her question seemed to have finally caught the baby’s attention. He hiccupped loudly and opened his eyes to look up at Alice.

      Dark eyes that had that baby milkiness that made it hard to decide whether they were blue or brown.

      ‘Colds go away.’ Alice smiled. ‘In a day or two you’re going to feel ever so much better.’

      She unsnapped the top fastenings of the sleep suit to allow a bit more fresh air to cool the baby’s skin. Miraculously, he’d stopped crying now, so Alice rocked him gently and started singing softly. It was amazing how comforting it was to hold this tiny person. For the first time Alice felt as if she was welcome in this house.

      Needed even.

      The baby’s eyes drifted shut and only moments later there she was sitting in the conservatory again but this time holding a sleeping infant.

      A quiet one.

      For a few seconds Alice watched the baby’s face as it twitched and settled deeper into sleep. Who was he? Julien’s child perhaps? Was that young woman his wife? Or his girlfriend perhaps, given the speed with which he’d suggested it wasn’t necessary to be married to have a child. If either scenario was correct, her opinion of him was dropping rapidly. He should have been trying to help, not making things worse.

      Not that she could hear the sound of any arguments any more.

      In fact, it was so quiet she glanced up with the worrying thought that they might have all gone somewhere else and left her with the baby.

      To her horror, she found that there were five people watching her from the doorway.

      Julien looked angry again. His words were cold.

      ‘What, exactly,’ he bit out, ‘do you think you are doing?’

      Wasn’t it obvious? Alice said nothing. The younger woman was standing with her head down as if she knew she had done something wrong. Julien said something and she started to move towards Alice but then the older woman halted her with a touch on her arm and spoke. Another discussion started amongst the group with rapid, urgent-sounding words.

      At the end of their conversation the two women and the men turned and walked away. Alice knew her face would be a question mark as Julien turned back but he didn’t meet her gaze.

      ‘It seems that this is the first time the baby has slept in many hours. It would be to his benefit not to disturb him for a little while.’

      ‘He’s not well. I think he’s running a temperature.’

      ‘A doctor has been summoned.’

      Julien stopped his pacing amongst the greenery with his back towards Alice.

      Alice broke the silence. ‘What’s his name?’

      ‘Jacques.’

      ‘Is he your son?’

      Julien turned very slowly and his expression was...shocked. Appalled even—as if the very idea of having a child was the worst fate he could imagine.

      ‘Of course not.’

      Alice frowned. ‘Then why is he here? Whose baby is he?’

      Julien closed his eyes. ‘My sister’s.’

      It was Alice’s turn to be shocked. That made him Julien’s nephew. An orphan who had only just lost his father and was in desperate need of any remaining family. But Julien didn’t seem to want anything to do with little Jacques. Because he was also André’s son?

      Oh... Another shock wave rocked Alice. If André was her father, then that made this baby her half-brother.

      Part of her own family...

      She loved children anyway and would do anything to help one who was in distress but her compassion towards this infant had just morphed into something much bigger. Something totally unexpected and potentially hugely significant.

      She stared at the sleeping infant’s face, the dark fan of eyelashes over cheeks that were too red. A patchy kind of red, like a rash of tiny spots. Even asleep, his tiny hands were in fists and he still felt too hot. The patch of skin she had exposed by unbuttoning the sleep suit was also red. Spotty, even.

      The mind-blowing implications of a genetic relationship were pushed aside. Alice pulled open the suit a little further. Yes...the rash was everywhere. Faint but unmistakeable.

      ‘Oh, no...’

      ‘What?’

      She