27th August 1915

There had been no bombs that night. Her mother said that that was a good sign. Alice cradled the bundle close to her chest and stared down with moist eyes. The baby was healthy and strong, the nurse had said. The fluffy tuft of thick blonde hair stuck to her boy's scalp was twitching in the breeze. He let out a huff and snuggled deeper into his blankets.

They're going to take him away from me. Sudden fear gripped her. She pressed the sweet-smelling swaddling to her face and breathed in a shaky breath. No, no they wouldn't. Mother wouldn't allow it. Besides, it was only a matter of money to get him back from any orphanage and she had plenty of that. But her nerves tingled quietly anyway.

Alice looked towards the window and saw the first beams of sunlight slipping stealthily under the black drapes. She frowned and made a mental note to berate the next nurse who came in. They were in the middle of a war for pity's sake! This was no time to be lax with security, especially in a hospital.

She leant back and leaned against the headboard, careful not to jostle her sleeping son. Even at an hour old he looked so much like his father that she felt a sudden pang of loneliness. He had been such a kind man. His mouth and hair, her eyes (she hoped, crossing her fingers and smiling), and his sturdy frame; oh yes, her son was going to be a handsome young man when he was grown.

But for now she was tired and he was so small, fitting neatly into the crook of her arm. He had the whole world ahead of him, if only they could win this blasted war, and one day he'd be able to make something of himself. Alice beamed down at him and ran a finger along his face. The whole world was his now.

'What should I name you, hmm?' She whispered to him. 'I hadn't really planned for a boy.' She knew a boy was expected of her, being from the upper echelons of society, but she had always believed that she would have a girl first. Well, at least she had done her duty. The upper echelons might not like the way she had gone about it but they could go hang for all she cared. 'How about Benjamin?'

'Hmm, perhaps Simon? Or James?' Alice paused for a moment and smiled widely with delight. 'I know. Thomas.' The boy wiggled briefly, as if he recognised his name. 'Tom for short.' She looked, still smiling, towards the window. 'Yes, Thomas will do.'

'Well? How is my grandson?' Georgina swept the nurse aside and looked down her nose at her daughter. Alice smiled and held out her arms; Thomas let of a warbled squeak and twisted in his blanket.

Gently picking him up, Georgina scrutinized the infant. 'He looks just like his father.' She gave her daughter a quick glare of disapproval; Alice only half managed to make her shame sincere. 'Still, he'll be a handsome little man when he's grown, I expect. And a first born too, so that's something.'

Her eyes softened and she gave Thomas a quick peck on the cheek before handing him back to his mother. The nurse had returned and was hovering uncertainly near the end of the bed. 'Yes?' Georgina barked. 'What is it?' The girl swallowed. 'Y-you're going to take the baby home then, I expect? Only…' Georgina rounded on her, eyes flint-like.

'My daughter is sixteen, is that it? And young ladies of such a delicate age should not be having it off with whichever ne'er do well happens to be in the vicinity? I couldn't agree more. However, what has happened, has happened and like it or not we shall have to deal with consequences.' Georgina paused for breath.

'Now, my daughter may be a foolish sixteen year old but she is no longer a child, no thanks to that miserable lout of commoner-' 'Mother!' Alice admonished, but her mother raised a hand for silence. 'But she is still my daughter and that is still my grandson and extraordinary though the circumstances may be, Thomas shall indeed be coming home with us.'

Georgina's eyes narrowed sharply; the nurse flinched and went to take a step back, thought better of it and stayed rooted to the spot. 'And,' Georgina finished coolly, 'I will take issue with anyone who attempts to persuade me otherwise.'

'Here, here!' hurrahed Phillip, hobbling into the room on crutches as the nurse fled in terror. He had hurt his foot two Mondays last when one of the other members of the battalion accidently discharged his firearm, shooting off Phillip's toe. Thus he had earned himself a medical discharge and hurried home from the Front in record time.

'How goes the war?' Georgina asked, shuffling backwards to allow her husband some room. 'Oh, I don't want to talk about that! Not when our grandson's just been born!' Phillip leaned over and gave his daughter a quick kiss; Thomas reached out and wrapped his tiny pink fingers around the man's collar. Phillip smiled.

'Ah, little fellow wants to be a soldier, does he? Eh, good boy.' Alice frowned, her lips thin. 'Father, he's not even a day old.' 'Hopefully there won't be any more wars for him to fight.' Georgina said, as she prodded her husband into a chair and took away his crutches.

They sat together in silence for a while; mother, father and daughter, looking down at the miracle that had been brought into their little world. A boy, born into privilege and a world at war, without a father to guide him but with a mother who would love him all the same.

Extraordinary circumstances indeed.