Christa had just laid down in her bed when the front doorbell rang.
She groaned, and rolled over. Sitting up she put her slippers on. She groped for the light switch, and hissed as the light momentarily blinded her.
She made her way downstairs, and unlatched the front door, and peered into the raining darkness.
'Hello?' she called irritably.
'Christa?' Christa sighed, she'd hoped that she'd never see him again.
'What do you want Adam?' she asked, leaning on the door jam, 'It's the middle of the night and it's pouring down.'
'I need your help.' His soft welsh vowels seemed strained.
'What with?' she snapped.
'Can I come in?' he asked meekly, 'I... It's raining.'
Alright then.' She said, letting him past and shutting the door.
He sat down on her sofa in the living room, rubbed at his hair with one hand.
'What's wrong Adam?' she said, sitting down with a cup of tea.
He sighed, closing his eyes, and then he breathed out and opened them. 'I need help with this.' He said, uncovering his covered right side, to reveal a sleeping baby, that was surprisingly dry.