Last part, then. I'm not going to do an epilogue, because… well, because if I do, then I'll never end this, and, much as I love writing it, I want to quit while I'm ahead. So, firstly, thanks to everyone who's read this and replied to it. Luce, Loren, Leanne, Vicky, and Kat especially. And an extra thanks to Luce and Loren, you don't know how much help you've been! Love ya both!

And secondly, erm, this is very long. It was intended to have equal amounts of all the characters, but, erm, that plan went out the window. So this is mainly about Anita. But the others are in it quite a bit. And besides, we all like Anita, right?

So, ah, enjoy…

=================

"Do you have any suitcases?" Ric asked Diane, as he strolled into the kitchen and stole a slice of toast from her plate.

"Why, are you kicking me out?" she teased.

"No, I was just wondering." He lifted Olivia out of her highchair.

"Oh come on, Ric, you don't just ask me if I have any suitcases!" Diane exclaimed. "Why?"

He laughed. "There's no getting past you, is there?"

"None at all. Tell me!" she insisted.

"Patience is a virtue, you know, Diane…"

"And one that I haven't got. Tell me!"

He laughed. "Fine, fine. I felt bad about going into work the day after we got married, so I booked us a holiday."

"Ooh!" she squealed, sobering quickly. "Us? As in…?"

"You, me, and Livie." He looked down at Olivia. "As if I'd ever make you leave this little one somewhere."

"That's good… where? When?" She swatted his hand away as he reached out for her cup of tea. "I made that, get your own!"

Ric placed Olivia in her mother's lap and went to get himself some breakfast. "You know how Zubin's got that house in America?"

"No, but carry on," Diane replied, beginning to feed Olivia.

"He's got a house in America," Ric explained. "Somewhere near the coast, Cape Cod."

She shrugged. "Never heard of it."

"Well, that's where we're going. We're flying at nine tonight." He took a sip of his tea. "I think the milk's gone off."

"Tonight? Ric, we need to pack, Livie doesn't have a passport…"

Ric put a hand up to silence her. "Jess took Livie to get a passport two weeks ago, it came last week."

"Packing?"

"You've got all day." He kissed her hair. "We're going for a week. You don't need that much."

"Travelling with a baby, Ric." She lifted Livie up, as if to prove that she did in fact have a baby.

"We'll be fine."

*~*~*

"Sister Fox," Zubin said, politely, as he passed Kath.

"Professor Khan," she replied, decorously.

Zubin leant close to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear. "We're on for tonight, are we?"

"Of course," she murmured, turning and kissing him quickly on the lips. "Now go, before someone sees you!" She enjoyed being with Zubin, but didn't want their romance to be the talk of the hospital. She'd had enough of her private life being everyone's business. She was truly happy for once, and, whilst she wanted everyone to know how happy she was, she also wanted to keep Zubin all to herself.

*~*~*

Anita looked up as Tom entered. "Hi."

"You okay?" he asked, sitting on the bed next to her.

"I feel fine. Just…" She shrugged. "You know."

He nodded. "I know." He paused for a moment, and then placed an envelope on the bed. "This came this morning."

"What is it?" she asked, opening it. She looked at the card inside for a moment, and put it down on the bed, feeling her lips quivering, about to cry.

"Ed says he wasn't sure whether to send it or not," Tom said, looking at the card.

Anita nodded. "I'm not sure what to do with it." She glanced towards the cabinet, where there were two more cards – one from Ric and Diane, and one from Chrissie and Owen. Diane and Ric hadn't sent a congratulations card, but rather a 'thinking of you' card instead. Anita preferred that. Congratulations… it seemed a funny thing to say. She hadn't done anything to be proud of. But then you can't buy guilt cards, can you?

"Who brought you?" Anita queried, suddenly realising that Tom couldn't have driven himself, not with a broken arm. He'd been allowed home nearly two weeks before, and, as he couldn't work, spent as much time as possible with Anita, who hadn't yet been allowed home. She was getting frustrated. She wanted to be somewhere where she wasn't constantly being reminded of the baby, of what she had done. Because, in spite of what Tom, Josie, and even Diane and Chrissie, who'd both been to visit, had told her, Anita still felt that, somehow, she was to blame for this.

"Josie," Tom replied, in answer to Anita's question. "She's somewhere around here… probably eyeing up some poor defenceless man."

Anita smiled politely.

"Have you seen him today?" asked Tom.

"Him, the baby, or him, Owen or Mubbs?" She knew whom Tom meant, but she just wanted to delay things for a moment. She had spent the last three weeks praying that the baby would live, so that she wouldn't have to spend the rest of her life with the constant companion of guilt. But she knew that when the baby was better, she would have to take him home and be his mother. And she didn't know how she would be able to deal with that. "I've not seen any of them."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"This wasn't how it was meant to be," Anita said softly. "It wasn't meant to be like this at all."

"I know." Tom put his good arm around her.

Anita sniffled slightly, wiping her eyes with her hand. "He'll be okay, won't he?"

"I wish I could say that he will." Tom blinked hurriedly to rid his eyes of the tears that were gathering there. There was something that he wanted to tell Anita, and he needed to stay strong for her reaction. She might not take it well, but he wanted to tell her. "Anita, we need to talk about… about this."

"What about it?"

He looked at her, her head lying on his shoulder. "Anita, you need to…" He sighed.

"To love him. I know." She sat up. "It's hard. I can't… because, Tom, what if… what if he dies?"

"What if I die? What if Josie dies? It doesn't change things. You need to take a risk, Anita." He kissed her hair. "If he dies, which would hurt more? To know that you pulled away from him, that you didn't help your son when he needed it the most? Or to know that you loved him, that you gave him all that you could – all that he deserves, Anita."

"But…" She trailed off. "You're right. But… You're good at this whole parenting thing."

"How did you work that out?" He was confused.

"Josie."

He laughed. "Anita, I didn't meet Josie until she was twenty. The way I treat her is very different to the way I treat our newborn son. I didn't have to do any 'parenting' with Josie. Jenn did all of that."

"But…" She paused, trying to think of how to phrase her comment. "I mean, you got used to Josie really quickly."

Tom looked at her. "If it comes to that, then so did you."

"But I'm not trying to be her mother!" Anita protested. "She's my best friend." She looked at Tom. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to act around the baby. You can, I can't, and I just… what do I do? You have to help me, what do I need to do?"

He smiled slightly, through the mist of tears that had settled in his eyes. "See him. Talk to him. Spend time with him."

"Talk to him? What about? Do you…?" She couldn't form the complete questions.

"I talk to him about lots of things. I was reading to him yesterday."

"Can he hear you? I mean, isn't he asleep?" Anita queried.

He smoothed her hair away from her face. "He might be. I don't know. Or he might be taking after his mummy already and listening with his eyes closed," he added, teasingly. It was a long-running joke between them – when she had been his doctor, he told her that, often, when he was talking, he would look up at her face and see that she had her eyes closed. She had told him that no, she hadn't been sleeping – often she found it easier to listen when she had her eyes shut.

She smiled slightly. "Could be." The fact that he had called her the baby's 'mummy' had hit her. It was one thing to say she was a mother. Mummy… that had different associations. It had been Mummy who she had gone to when she was two years old and had cut her knee, Mummy sorted out arguments between siblings, Mummy was the one who made everything better. Could she be someone's Mummy?

*~*~*

"Alex?" Jess began, sitting down next to him on the sofa.

"Yes?" he asked, warily. Like Ric, Alex had grown to understand when the tone in Jess' voice suggested 'I want money'. And that was how she sounded now.

"How do you feel about… y'know…?" Jess waved her hands around vaguely, not wanting to form the words, not wanting to ruin Alex's happiness. Her happiness, even.

"Magic tricks?" he suggested, genuinely confused.

Jess hit him. "No. You know…"

"Do you want money?" Alex queried, feeling that it would be better to just cut to the chase.

"No. You're as bad as Dad, you know that?" Jess teased. It was easier to just make a joke, lighten the atmosphere slightly. They'd all need light relief soon, probably.

"God help me," Alex sighed. "Go on then… how do I feel about what?"

"Kids." Jess looked away.

"Are you saying that you want kids?" Alex looked into his girlfriend's eyes.

"Not exactly. More like, ah…" She waved her hands around again, hoping that Alex would catch what she meant, that she wouldn't have to explain it. In a few seconds, he spoke again.

"Are you pregnant?"

Jess winced. "Sort of."

Alex leant back on the sofa, breathing deeply. "Okay." He needed to process this. Pregnant. He was going to be a father. He couldn't help but remember the last time that Jess had told him she was pregnant. He had known what he thought then… he didn't want it. But now, now was a different matter. They were in a secure relationship, they loved each other… it was the best possible scenario to bring a baby into. Except… he was ill. His Parkinson's would never go away. It would only get worse. Jess would end up caring for two people. Then, there was the chance that he wouldn't see the baby grow up. Jess would be alone. It wasn't about how he felt. Did Jess know the full extent of this?

Jess studied his face critically. "What do you think?"

"I think… what I think doesn't matter." He put a hand on Jess' stomach. "I'm pleased. But… you?"

Jess smiled. "Good. Then I'm pleased too."

He turned serious. "But Jess, you do realise that I – there's a good chance that I won't be around… to watch this baby grow up. You know that, right? Or, maybe worse, that I'll become… incapable. And you'll end up caring for the baby and me. You know that?"

She squeezed his hand. "I know that." She paused. "If anything, Alex, that just makes me want this baby more. If anything happens, then… I'll always have a little bit of you."

He nodded. And, although he couldn't even think how hard it would be to see a baby and know that he might not see it grow up, he knew that this was destiny. And besides… it was comforting to think that there would always be a part of him in the world, even after he had gone.

*~*~*

"Katie!" Chrissie's shout echoed through the quiet house. Katie, who had been sitting in front of the TV, Manda on her lap, carefully placed the baby down, and raced to find her stepmother.

"What's the matter, Chrissie?" she asked, coming to a halt in the kitchen.

Chrissie forced a smile, trying to be brave for the child. "I think that the baby's coming."

"Really?" Katie looked excited.

Chrissie nodded. "Yeah. So, can you be really helpful and ring my mum for me, while I go and get my bag ready?"

"Sure!" Katie said, smiling. "Oh my God, I can't believe you're going to have the baby!"

Chrissie sucked in her breath rapidly. "Ahh…"

Katie took her stepmother's arm. "Sit down. I'll get your bag and I'll call your mum. I'll bring Manda to you."

"Thank you, Katie." Chrissie's smile said more than words could ever do.

Katie ran around for a few minutes, tapping her fingers anxiously. She was old enough to understand that what she was doing was important. She sat Manda in her highchair, hurriedly fetched the bag and placed it in the hallway, and dialled Tricia.

"Hi, this is… it's Katie Davis," she said, haltingly.

"Katie?" Tricia sounded worried immediately. "What's the matter, sweetie?"

"It's Chrissie," Katie replied. "She's having the baby. She wants you here."

Tricia exhaled heavily. "I'll be right there. Well done, Katie, thanks for ringing."

Within twenty minutes, Tricia had arrived, and was loading Chrissie, Katie, and Manda into her car. She had promised to drive Chrissie to the hospital, leave her in Owen's capable hands, and then go back to take care of the girls.

"Thanks, Mum," Chrissie said, gratefully. "I wouldn't be able to do this without you."

Tricia smiled. "That's what mums are for, isn't it? Are you alright?"

"A bit uncomfortable, but it'll get worse before it gets better," Chrissie replied.

"That's true," Tricia agreed. "But you've done it once, you can do it again."

"I know. And soon I'll be holding my little boy." Chrissie rubbed her stomach gently. "I can't wait."

Owen was waiting for them in maternity. "Are you okay?" he asked his wife anxiously.

"I'm fine." She kissed his cheek. "You can go, Mum. Owen will take care of me now."

"Just make sure you do!" Tricia said, playfully, to Owen.

"I will," Owen promised, smiling at his mother-in-law.

*~*~*

Anita allowed Tom to take her through to see the baby again. She took a deep breath before pushing the door open. Every time she saw that little baby, it reminded her of what had happened. The fact that she had not wanted to be a mother, the fact that she was the one who had put her son, her own baby, in here. She spent most of the time looking at the baby, doing the same as all the other mothers in the special care baby unit. They were doing the same as she was, they were all willing their babies to get better, and yet Anita felt so different from them. Because they couldn't wait until they could take their babies home. Anita was dreading that day.

"How is he?" Tom queried of the nurse.

Anita tuned out the murmur of voices, and focused instead on the baby. A few minutes passed, and she was conscious of Tom walking away. "Where are you going?" she asked, panicking slightly, not wanting to be left alone with the baby.

"To find Josie," he replied. "Stay here."

"By myself?" She was almost hysterical. She didn't want to stay there by herself.

"No. There are nurses around, and there's the baby." He smiled at her gently. He knew what she meant. She might have thought that she was hard to read, but Tom could understand her. He knew that she liked to appear mysterious and in control, but he was able to see when she wasn't. She might have been able to read him better than anyone, but it was a two-way affair. Even if she wasn't aware of that. She might have thought that she was fooling people over the last few weeks, pretending to be falling in love with the baby, but Tom could see that she wasn't. She was only doing it so that she didn't look uncaring and selfish. He knew that that was the last thing that Anita could ever be. But he also knew that she needed an opportunity to do what she had been pretending to do for the past weeks. He was going to give her that. He wanted to spend time with his son, but he knew that Anita needed the time more than he did. And he would rather have died than deprived her of it.

*~*~*

Diane groaned as she sorted through piles of clothes. "God, Ric, couldn't you have told me about this a bit in advance? I need to do more washing."

He laughed. "We're only going for a week."

"I don't have enough clothes to last me for a day," she replied, displaying the wardrobe. "Look. Practically empty."

Ric flicked through the clothes that were hanging there. "Diane, there's lots of clothes here."

"Work clothes." She laughed, and shut the door. "You don't understand about clothes, don't even try."

He smiled at her. "If you say so."

Olivia started screaming. "I'll get her," Diane said. "Can you put all of the clothes on the bed into the case, please?"

"Yes dear," he replied, sarcastically. Diane returned a few moments later, bouncing Olivia on her hip.

"I think she's teething. Again." Diane placed the baby on the bed, and surrounded her with cushions

"Babies do that, you know." Ric ruffled Olivia's hair, and she moved away, whining. "Hmm, someone doesn't like her Uncle Ric today."

"Good girl, you stay loyal to Mummy," Diane teased.

"See, that's why she's like this," Ric commented, jokingly.

"Yeah, she takes after her mum." Diane picked Livie up and cuddled her.

*~*~*

"Are you alright, Chrissie?" Owen asked, tentatively.

Chrissie, her face lined with pain, lay back on the bed. "Do I look alright?"

Owen smiled. "Sorry, that might have been a silly question."

"Might have been?"

He laughed. "I'm very sorry."

Chrissie groaned, and rubbed her stomach. "Can't I have a c-section?"

"No you can't." He squeezed her hand supportively. Luckily, it had been a fairly quiet day, and he was able to spend most of his time with Chrissie.

"Why not? You're the boss around here… please?" she begged.

"Chrissie, it'll all be over in a very short time."

"You said that an hour ago!" she complained. "It hurts, Owen. I bet you'd be complaining more than this if you had a person coming out of your –"

"Stop right there," Owen cautioned her. "You'll regret saying this when it's over."

"I'm sure I won't. I don't have many regrets." She moaned in pain. "Can I at least have some sort of pain killers?"

"You can't have an epidural because you're nearly ready to push."

"I was nearly ready to push an hour ago as well. You have a weird definition of 'a short time'," Chrissie told him.

Owen rubbed her back. "I know that you—"

Chrissie cut him off with a moan of pain. As she subsided, she smiled at him. "I'm glad you're here, you know."

"Yeah, you really seem glad."

She laughed. "I know. I'm sorry. But… when it was Amanda, I know, I know, it was my fault, but I didn't like going through it on my own."

"Tricia was there."

"That's not really the same." Chrissie smiled at him. "She's my mother, I know she loves me, but I'd rather that you were with me."

"I'm with you now."

"And that's all that matters."

*~*~*

Timidly, Anita approached the incubator and looked at the baby. She had never seen him so close up before. She looked around self-consciously. What was she supposed to do now? The room was empty, apart from the baby and a nurse, busy with paperwork on the far side of the room. And Anita had never felt so alone.

The baby had his eyes closed and his hands balled up into fists. He wasn't connected to any tubes or wires anymore, except for the one that was helping him breathe. He had black hair – "I hope he gets your hair," Tom had said. She had laughed and agreed, before trying to change the subject.

Anita sat down awkwardly. "Hi." Her voice sounded loud, rising above the steady beeping and whirring of the monitors. And her mind went blank. What could she say to a baby? A baby who was probably asleep, or unconscious. He wouldn't understand her even if he could hear her.

She looked around the room again, and then back to the baby. Right. She was going to do this if it killed her. "So…" she began, hesitantly. "Ah, your father says I should talk to you." She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. Laugh, because it was so absurd. So stupid, that she didn't know what to say to her own son. Cry, because… it was so absurd. She didn't know what to say to her own son. She was horrified to feel tears slipping down her cheeks. She rubbed her hands over her face hurriedly, and leaned towards the baby, shielding her face from the glances of strangers. Except the baby. He was the strangest stranger of them all. But she didn't want him to be. This was her son, and she wanted so badly to feel something other than worry, than fear, when she thought about him.

Her voice tearful, she spoke again. "I'm sorry. I wish I could have done it differently." She reached out a hand and touched his cheek gently. "None of this is your fault. You shouldn't be here. You should be safe and – and healthy. It's my fault. I'm sorry."

*~*~*

"Knock-knock," Jess called out, entering through the open door of Diane and Ric's house. She dragged Alex in behind her.

"Jess?" Ric asked, appearing at the top of the stairs, a pile of Olivia's clothes in his arms.

"Diane's got you doing her washing?" Alex queried, laughing.

Ric smiled. "No. We're going away, remember?"

"And because someone didn't say anything, I don't have anything ready," Diane put in, coming up behind Ric. She put her arms around his waist and he laughed, dropping half of the baby clothes.

"Well, if someone kept up to date with their washing, then someone might not be having this rush," he teased.

"Get a room!" Jess told them, groaning. They laughed, and came downstairs.

"So, why're you here?" Diane queried.

"Not that we don't love to see you," Ric added.

Diane led the way into the kitchen, and began taking washing out of the washing machine. "Anyone want a drink? Coffee? Jess, Alex?"

"None for me, then?" Ric asked, jokingly.

"You live here, you get your own!" Diane laughed. "Jess, Alex, coffee?"

"No, I'm fine thanks," Alex replied.

"Same here," Jess agreed.

"So… why are you here?" Diane asked again, perching herself on the worktop with a mug.

"Well, we've got some news," Alex started, gesturing for Jess to continue.

"God help us, they're getting married and want me to pay," Ric sighed, theatrically.

"No-o," Jess faltered.

"What, then?" Ric asked.

Jess sent an anguished look towards Alex, who spoke. "Well, ah, you're going to be a grandfather," he told Ric.

Diane smiled. "Oh my God, you're pregnant? Congratulations!"

"You're pregnant?" Ric asked, in a not-so-happy tone.

"Dad, Dad, it's a good thing," Jess insisted, smiling. "Really. Alex is pleased, I'm pleased. We're going to keep this baby. We want this baby." She took Ric's hand gingerly. "Dad, please, be happy for us. This is the best thing to ever happen to me – to us."

Ric looked stern for a moment longer, but finally relented. "Then I'm happy for you. As long as you're happy." He hugged Jess. "You're my little girl, it's just hard to believe that you're old enough to be a mummy."

She laughed. "I'll always be your little girl, Dad, whatever happens."

"So, Ric's going to be a grandpa?" Diane laughed.

Alex looked mischievous. "If you want, you can be grandma."

If looks could have killed, Alex would have dropped dead. "No, but thanks all the same," Diane replied.

Alex nodded, but privately resolved to teach the baby to call Diane "grandma" the moment it was able to speak.

*~*~*

"Anita?" Tom asked, gently, as he entered the room to find her crying by the baby's side. "Are you alright?"

"No," she choked out, tearfully. "I'm not alright."

Tom took her arm and led her into her room. "What's the matter?"

"What do you think?" she demanded, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "Tom, he's going to die, isn't he?"

"Who told you that?" He was shocked, and, suddenly, terrified that Owen or Mubbs had told her something. Something that he never wanted to hear.

"Is it true?" she countered.

He shook his head. "No one's told me anything of the sort. Anita, he's got a chance. A good chance. He's put on a lot of weight recently, and every time I ask the nurses, they say he's getting better, getting stronger."

"Really?" In those few silent minutes she had spent alone with her son, something had happened to Anita. She wasn't quite sure what, but she knew that suddenly, she wanted her son to live. Needed him to live.

"He's going to make it, Anita. I promise." Where were the words coming from? He didn't know. But he did know that he meant them. He wanted to believe them as much as she did. But, no matter how much they said it, they had no control over it.

But he had done what he could. He knew that, and she knew that. Seeing her eyes fill with tears again, he pulled her into a hug and let her cry. It was what she needed. And, as she sobbed in his arms, he cried too.

*~*~*

Kath sighed as the call button went again. Zubin, standing a few metres away, smiled. "Getting impatient with poor Mrs Grayson?"

Kath laughed, half-heartedly. "No. She's old, and if I was in that much pain, I'm sure that I'd be a lot worse than she is." She made her way over to Mrs Grayson's bed, Zubin following.

"What's the matter, Mrs Grayson?" she queried.

"Pain." The old woman looked around.

Zubin approached the bed, and began to change the morphine dosage. Mrs Grayson smiled. "Well, you're a wonderful man. You can ease the pain, and you're handsome."

Kath laughed, and Mrs Grayson looked at her. "Don't you think he's handsome?"

Kath looked Zubin up and down critically, ignoring his embarrassed look. Finally, she smiled. "Very handsome."

*~*~*

Anita had cried until there were no tears left, and was just leaning sleepily against Tom, exhausted from everything. She had barely slept in the past three weeks. She had hardly eaten. She had kept all of her emotions bottled up, and had only just allowed herself to cry. And she was still worried. But worried wasn't a strong enough word… she was terrified that something might happen, praying that the baby would survive, that she wouldn't have to live with this never-ending torture.

"Why?" she asked softly.

Tom looked at her. "What did you say, sorry?"

"Why?" she repeated. "Why did it happen?"

Tom turned to face her. "I don't know. We were in a car crash because someone was drunk at the wheel of his car. You were seriously injured and they had to deliver our baby nearly three months early."

She sighed. "I know that. I just meant… why? In general. Why was that guy driving when he was drunk? Why does our baby have to go through this? Why do we have to go through this?" She looked down at her hands. "Maybe it would have been better if I'd have died that night."

He took her hand in his and spoke sternly. "Don't ever say that, Anita."

"Why not?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Tom, there has to be a reason that that crash happened. There has to have been a reason that I was dead for a few minutes."

"And there has to be a reason that you pulled through." He sighed. "Anita, there is a reason that a girl looked out of her bedroom window and saw you there. There's a reason that she knew how to resuscitate you. There's a reason she was able to call an ambulance. She saved your life, and for that, I am more grateful to her than I can ever say. Anita, do you realise how much we need you? How much people rely on you?"

"I don't want them to." It sounded childish and petty, but it was true. Just for once, she wanted to hide away from the world, to be allowed to have her own problems for once, and not to have to help other people.

"Do you mean that?" he asked, gently. "Would you really like to know that no one wanted you, no one needed your help?"

She smiled slightly. "I thought I was meant to be the psychiatrist."

"You are. I'm not trying to undermine you," he reassured her. "I'm just saying…"

"I know. You're good." She gave a half-hearted laugh. "You're right. I'd hate it." She smiled at him. "Thank you."

*~*~*

"Where's my passport?" Diane asked, panicked.

Ric smiled. "Are you always this nervous when you're travelling?"

She laughed. "Yes. Do you have the passports?" she added, looking tense again.

He patted his pocket. "Relax. I've got them."

Diane manoeuvred Olivia's pushchair through the revolving doors. "I'm sorry, I get tense about flying. And I panic."

Ric took the pushchair and handed the bags to Diane. "It'll be fine."

*~*~*

Mubbs knocked softly on the door of Anita's room, and went in. Tom held up a hand, and gestured to Anita, who was sleeping, her head on his lap.

Mubbs smiled, and spoke quietly. "I came to ask if you wanted us to bring the baby in here. You can hold him if you want. But, you don't have to wake her up…"

Tom shook his head. "I will. I can't feel my legs any more, anyway," he added, with a laugh. He touched Anita's face gently. "Anita? Wake up."

Anita's eyelids flickered for a few seconds, and she sat up, yawning. "What?" she mumbled, sleepily.

"Mr Hussein wanted to know if we wanted him to bring the baby in here so that we could hold him." He kept a close eye on her face, not wanting to force her into anything. "You don't have to if you don't want to, you know that."

Anita smiled. "I do want to."

Mubbs disappeared, and Tom put an arm around Anita. "Are you sure?"

"You know, you can take this caring husband thing a bit too far," she told him. "I'm sure. I need to do this. You were right."

"I was right? Well, I don't think you've ever said that before," Tom joked, standing up.

She was about to reply, but stopped as she saw the baby. Mubbs stopped by the door, and let Rosie in. She carefully picked the baby up, and gently placed him in Anita's arms before she had a chance to say anything. Before she could think about it, before she could change her mind.

"We'll leave you alone," Mubbs offered, heading for the door, followed by Rosie.

Anita shot Tom a panicked look. He smiled reassuringly at her, and called to Rosie and Mubbs. "Will he be alright with us?"

Rosie smiled. "Just remember that he's very small. He can't hold his head up or anything, so just be careful with him." She glanced at Anita. "Don't look so nervous. You won't break him."

"He's so small," she replied, struggling to put her fears into words.

Rosie laughed. "He'll be fine. He'll let you know if he isn't." With that, she left, closing the door behind her. It shut with a resounding click. A very final sound.

Tom smiled at Anita, who was still not looking at the baby. He sat down next to her. "Look at him."

She shot a frightened look at Tom first, but then glanced down at the baby. "He's tiny."

"He's a lot bigger than he was."

Suddenly a feeling of panic overwhelmed her, and she could have screamed. "You hold him," she blurted out, passing him over quickly, and standing up, trying to catch her breath.

Tom looked at her, concernedly. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. I'm fine, but, I – he's so small. How can I look after him?" She was taking deep breaths, trying to calm down, to rid herself of these feelings.

"Sit down," he told her. As she did so, he continued. "Hold him." He gently placed the baby in her arms again, and, ignoring the terrified expression on her face, stood up and moved towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"For a walk. You get to know your son." He opened the door.

"Don't…" She stopped suddenly.

"Talk to him."

"I don't know what to talk about."

He smiled at her. "About anything. I'm sure he won't mind. Or… or sing to him, or something. Just get to know your son." With that, he left.

*~*~*

"I think you've got some visitors," Rosie told Chrissie and Owen, stepping back to allow Tricia, Katie, and Manda in. Katie immediately rushed forward to look at her new brother, Tricia walking in more sedately. Manda just held out her arms to her father, wanting to be picked up.

"Aww, he's so cute!" Katie whispered, looking from the baby to Chrissie. "What's his name?"

Tricia took a look at the baby. "He looks like you, Chrissie."

"Poor thing," Owen joked, holding Amanda up so that she could see the new arrival. "This is your little brother, Mandy."

"What's his name?" Katie repeated.

Chrissie smiled. "Well, we had a few disagreements, because we'd each chosen names, and we hadn't discussed it. But eventually…"

"We compromised," Owen finished.

"And…?" Katie was getting impatient.

Owen laughed. "Connor."

Tricia and Katie cooed over the name. "That's such a cute name!" Katie commented.

"Connor suits him," Tricia added.

Owen and Chrissie exchanged an amused look. "You know, you'd probably have said that whatever we named him suited him," Chrissie remarked, smiling. "Didn't you say something very similar about Manda?"

Tricia laughed. "Well, of course. It's only politeness. But Connor does suit him."

Owen put Manda down gently on the bed. "Meet your little brother, Mandy."

Chrissie reached out a hand, and took Amanda onto her lap as well. A lot had changed since Amanda was born. Then, she had looked at the baby in her arms fearfully, worried about how she would cope as a single mother. Now, she was holding this baby joyously, happy in the knowledge that Owen would be helping her every step of the way.

*~*~*

Anita looked down at the baby, apprehensively. He was asleep. Or, he had his eyes closed. She wasn't quite sure. How was she meant to tell? But, as she watched, his tiny arm moved.

"Hey," she whispered. Upon hearing the sound, he opened his eyes, and looked up at her. She was startled. She touched his hand gently, and was shocked as his fist closed around her fingers. "You've got a tight grip," she commented. As he looked at her again, and waved his hand around, she smiled at him. "Hey. I'm… I'm your mummy."

Maybe it had taken a while, but she was able to say it. And she meant it. She was still scared – no, scared was too mild a word, she was terrified – but she was going to do whatever it took to make it work.

After a few more moments of silence she spoke again. "So, what should we talk about, ey?" Unsurprisingly, he didn't answer. "Well, I didn't really expect you to have much input. You can't speak yet, and even if you could, I doubt you've got much idea about conversation in three weeks of lying in a cot." He kicked aimlessly with his foot. "Well, your daddy said I should sing to you. What do you think of that?" He gazed up at her. "I'll take that as a yes, then."

Here in the silence I say a prayer
Though I've never seen you somehow I know you're there
You're in the faces of the people that I meet
You're as silent as the Earth beneath my feet
So if I should complain that all I have is not enough
Forgive me, I've been given so much

"So," Kath began. "A fancy restaurant, you paying… I could get used to this, Zubin."

He laughed. "Don't get too used to it. If you want that sort of thing, you need to find a consultant to date."

Kath pretended to think. "Well, Ric and Tom are both taken…"

"Well, I'm a good second best," he joked. He sobered. "Kath, I brought you here to tell you something."

Kath took a sip of wine, trying not to look too nervous. That was never a good start to a sentence. The last time she had heard a sentence like that, Terry had asked her to help him die. She didn't think that Zubin was dying, but she still didn't like the way he was phrasing this.

Zubin sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to pluck up the courage to speak. Eventually, he took a deep breath, and spoke. "Well, I think I'll just say this. That's probably the easiest way… unless of course you're telepathic?" He chuckled at his joke. "No, you're not, because if you were, you'd have said something a while ago."

"You're babbling," Kath commented. "What's the matter?"

He smiled, and took her hand. "I love you."

She smiled back at him, breathing a gentle sigh of relief. "I thought you were going to say something awful." She squeezed his hand. "I love you."

And I am blessed, every time I look into my baby's eyes
I think of all the friends who've touched my life
I realise in a world where some have more and some have less
I have love and I am blessed

Tom paused outside the door. Glancing through the window, he saw Anita, sitting cross-legged on the bed, gently rocking the baby. He smiled, and pushed the door open. As it closed with a click, Anita looked up, slightly embarrassed. "Oh, hi."

"You look happier," Tom commented. He crossed over to the bed, and sat down, putting his arm around Anita.

"I am happier." She smiled up at him. "Happier than I've ever been in my life, in fact. So… thank you." She looked a bit awkward, but he didn't seem to notice. She kissed him on the cheek, and moved her arm slightly. "Do you want to hold him?"

"No. No, you're happy holding him, I'll let you carry on." He did want to hold the baby, but he wanted to see Anita hold him as well. He smiled. "I feel quite the proud father here." Not only proud of the baby, of what he and Anita had created, but proud of Anita. Proud of her for getting through this. For being able to change her mind. For being so strong.


So many changes this world can put you through
Sometimes it's hard to find a way if a heart can get confused
But then I hold you and it all falls into place
You've given me what time cannot erase
So when I'm feeling down or feel sorry for myself
I look around and it's easy to tell

Olivia held out her hands to Diane, wanting to be picked up.

"Getting bored, angel?" Diane asked the baby.

"Mama."

Diane looked at Ric, amazed, thrilled, disbelieving, all at once. "Did you hear what I just heard?" She didn't wait for a reply. "She said 'mama', didn't she?"

Ric smiled. "I think she did." He put an arm around Diane and Olivia, and kissed Diane's hair gently.

That I am blessed, every time I look into my baby's eyes
I think of all the friends who touched my life
I realise in a world where some have more and some have less
I have love and I am blessed

Josie tentatively pushed the door open. "Hi," she whispered, not wanting to break the almost reverent silence in the room.

"Come and see this," Tom told her, looking briefly up from the baby, his arm still around Anita.

Josie crossed the room, eager to see the baby. She made a few complimentary comments to please them, and then pulled a camera out of her bag. "Right then. First family photo."

"Oh no!" Anita said, instantly. "No way. I'm not wearing any makeup, I've spent most of today crying, I must look a sight." Anita's attention was distracted as the baby moved, and Josie took advantage of the fact that neither of them were looking, and took a photo.

"Jo!" Anita complained. "We weren't even smiling."

"Weren't you?" Josie asked, laughing. She gestured to a mirror on the wall. "Look at yourself, Anita. I've never seen you smile so much."

Anita, curious, glanced in the direction that Josie was pointing. It was true. She was smiling. But then, she thought, looking at the image reflected in the mirror, the image of a mother, a father, and a baby, who wouldn't be?

Every time I look into my baby's eyes
I realise
I think of all the friends who touched my life

Diane bounced the baby on her knee for a moment. "Ric, can you look in that bag, there's a bottle in there. She's probably hungry."

Ric rustled through the bag, and pulled out a bottle. "Here you go, Livie. You can have this if you can say Ric."

"Oh, Ric, don't be so mean!" Diane exclaimed. "She's not gonna be able to say Ric, is she?"

Livie held out her hands for the bottle. "Dada."

Ric froze, glancing at Diane anxiously. She paused for a moment, letting memories wash over her. Memories of Steve, of Ric, of her pregnancy, of Olivia's life so far. Mentally, she shook herself. The past was not what she needed to be thinking about now. She had no reason to dwell on what had happened at that point in her life. She didn't need to look back on her past – all that mattered was what she had got out of it. And she had gained so much. She had her daughter and she had Ric. That was all that mattered. Live for the present. Dream for the future, but live in the present. So she smiled at Ric, and then glanced down at Livie.

"Yeah. That's your dada."

And I am blessed
Every time I look into my baby's eyes
I think of all the friends who have touched my life
I realise you've given me such peace and happiness
In this world where some have more and some have less
I am loved
And I am blessed