Katie slipped home from work in a buoyant mood; her boss had let her off early the day before and whispered of a bonus. She hopped up the stairs, thumbed the familiar digits on the intercom, when a plaintive child’s sob cut through the hallway. Katie frowned: why such gloom on a fine day? She turned, saw no source, grasped the doorhandle again, and the crying grew louder.
Where are you, little one? she asked, voice trembling.
Here, whispered a thin voice.
She stepped onto the cobbled pavement outside the block and found a boy of about five perched on the curb. He looked almost threadbare: a shivered jacket, torn muddy trousers, a pair of sports shorts that had not seen a wash. Dark streaks of tears stained his cheek. Katies heart tightened.
Whats your name? Why are you crying?
Im Alfie, the boy sniffed, I want to go home.
Do you live here? Katie tried to guess which neighbour might be his kin.
I dont know. I cant find my house, Im lost, Alfie said, his diction oddly precise.
Seeing the childs shivering form, Katie decided he needed a warm place first. She reached out.
Come with me. Ill make you a cuppa
Alfie clutched her hand, his nose twitching, and followed. Katie didnt yet know what to do with him beyond a surge of maternal pityfeed, shelter, protect.
I have a pot of stew. Want some? she asked as they entered her flat.
Alfie nodded eagerly.
He spooned the broth with careful reverence; the boy seemed unfussy, his palate untouched by the pampered meals his cousins daughter, Ivy, would have. Katie sighed, thinking how Alfie must dream of such dishes.
She sensed no one was looking for the child. What now? she wondered, when a buzz interrupted the silence. It was Arthur, the young man who had been courting her.
Hey, what are you up to?
Feeding a boy.
A boy? Which boy?
The little one, Alfie.
Where did he come from?
I found him by the entrance.
Why bring him inside?
Hes freezing.
How old is he?
Not more than five.
Alfie, listening on the phone, held up four fingers. Katie smiled again.
Actually, hes four.
Give the child back to his family.
I dont know where they are.
Let the police handle it.
Youre not allowed to feed him. There are trained people for that. Take him to them, then come see me.
Katie sighed, disappointment curling her shoulders. Alright, Alfie, well find your mum.
The boy agreed, his voice a soft sigh. Together they walked to the nearest police station, where a young constable, his age matching Katies, greeted them. She felt a flicker of hope; younger officers seemed softer, not yet hardened by the grind.
He listened politely, took down the story, and called for a supervisor. Soon a female officer in uniform ushered them into a small office, asked a few more questions, then said, Youre free to go.
And Alfie?
Hell stay with us for now. We need his statement.
Seeing the boy in safe hands, Katie relaxed. Thank you. Goodbye, Alfie.
Bye! the child waved, his tiny hand a blur.
She left the station, heading to meet Arthur outside a coffee shop. He waited by the door, his sigh a mix of irritation and fatigue, as if shed kept him waiting forever.
You know, theres a nice officer there. I felt comfortable leaving the child with her, Katie said.
If youd taken him straight there, we couldve gone to the cinema, Arthur chided. She didnt mind.
He was so vulnerable, I couldnt just hand him over to a uniformed stranger. You know theyre rarely empathetic.
Arthur waved his hand dismissively. The evenings talk of Alfie faded, yet Katie couldnt shake the image of the boy. She kept wondering whether his family would ever be found, or if hed be better off elsewhere. Arthur didnt notice her preoccupation; the night ended on a slightly sour note.
It was Friday. On Monday, returning home, Katie again found Alfie at her doorstep.
Youre back? she asked, surprised.
I came to you. Have you got stew?
No stew, but Ill find something. Pasta?
Anything! Im starving.
She fed him again, trying to coax details about his parents. He revealed that on Friday evening, after leaving the police station, his mother had collected him, berated him, slapped him, and barred him from going out. She left the house early the next morning. Only his uncle Sam, his mothers husband, remained at home. Alfie feared him, so he stayed hidden while Sam slept, snoring loudly. When Sam finally dozed, Alfie slipped on his jacket and came to Katie.
Katies heart clenched. After eating, Alfie said seriously, Ill go home, or mum will punish me again. He added, She never hurt me before. I think I might need a new mum soon.
Alright, Katie murmured. Let me walk you.
She wanted to know where he lived. His home was close. As she approached the flat, a woman stepped out, turning to Alfie.
Hello! Havent seen you in the courtyard today. Did you go for a walk?
My mum told me not to. I slipped out quietly.
Are you hungry?
No, Katie fed me.
Then hurry home before your mother notices.
Im off. Bye, Katie!
Alfie vanished behind the door. Katie turned to the woman.
Is his mother a drinker?
Worse, the woman sighed. Shes a drug user. In a year shes gone from a pretty young lady to a broken wreck.
You cant leave a child with her!
I cant call social services; my conscience wont allow it. Vicky used to be a sweet girl. I was close to her mother. She died before Vicky had Alfie. Vickys marriage fell apart, then she met that monster He ruined her life.
The boys in danger. He cant stay there!
The woman nodded, unable to finish. Katie understood without words why she hadnt called the authorities, yet she couldnt leave it be. She asked for the womans number.
The weight of the situation pressed down as she walked home. That evening Arthur called. Hearing her despondent voice, he asked what happened. Vicky confessed she was still looking after Alfie.
You should have taken the child to care, Arthur said.
I dont know what to do.
Then stop meddling in that family. Why cling to the boy?
I cant see another way.
Kate, youre making a mistake, Arthur warned sharply.
She fell silent, her mind already picturing a courtroom adoption hearing. Its madness, she muttered to herself, but the image of a happy Alfie in her house lingered.
Lets talk tomorrow, she told Arthur.
Are you mad, Kate?
No, just a headache. Ill go to bed, she replied, lying to him for the first time.
She hung up, then called her sister, Ivy. The sisters were close, sharing thoughts freely. Ivy listened, then said, I like Alfie already, even from afar. You know I adore children. Id love to meet him.
Hes wonderful!
Do what you think is right. He didnt appear in your life for nothing. How long have you been with Arthur?
What does that have to do with anything?
Everything. Hes been draining you for two years, using you, never saying where this leads.
I feel like I dont want to see him any more, Katie admitted.
Maybe you just think that.
I dont know
The conversation left Katie mulling all evening. Ivy was right: the boy couldnt stay where he lived. Katie decided not to wait. The next day she asked for a day off and went to speak again with Alfies neighbour.
She got a call that morning: Alfie is in hospital, concussion!
Later she learned his mother hadnt returned home yesterday; police were searching for her. His stepfather, drunk on drugs, demanded Alfies whereabouts. The boy couldnt escape him, but the neighbour heard his cries, called the police, and an ambulance whisked him away.
Now Ill never leave him again! Katie vowed.
That evening she visited Alfie in the hospital, where the same young constable and a socialcare officer, Gareth, were on duty. They recognized her, promised to explain the situation. When Katie learned Alfie would be taken from his mother, she asked if anyone could adopt him.
Adoption is complex, only possible if parental rights are removed, the officer said.
What about other options?
We can discuss that with social services; its possible, Gareth replied gently, his eyes warm.
Seeing Gareths sympathy, the nurse in the ward suggested he help finalize the paperwork. Katie stayed alone with Gareth, who offered to escort her home.
Would you like tea? she blurted, surprising herself.
He accepted. Over tea he listened to her worries about Alfies fate, fully supportive.
Hes a bright, lively lad. Id take him myself if I could, Gareth admitted, taking her number and promising updates.
The next morning, as she rushed to work, a call came: Hello, Katie. Weve found Vicky. She died last night from an overdose.
How do I tell Alfie? Katie stammered.
Dont rush. He hasnt asked about her yet. He seems to sense something.
All day Arthur didnt call. Later that night a message pinged: I hope you see I was right. Choose: me or your dirty streetkid!
Anger surged. She wanted to fire back, but Gareth called again: Katie, want to visit Alfie together today?
Yes, but on a firstname basis, she replied, weary of formalities.
She never answered Arthur that night.
The frantic days with Alfie forged a bond between Katie and Gareth. Arthur, meanwhile, waited for a reaction, assuming shed stay angry. He finally called a week later; she answered calmly, proposing a meeting.
This cant be solved over the phone. We need to meet. I think we should end it. I dont love you, she said.
Arthur was stunned. She turned and left without waiting for his reply. He tried to call back, she hung up, and their twoyear romance dissolved.
A month later Katie secured guardianship of Alfie.
Congratulations, Gareth said.
Thank you! I couldnt have done it without you.
Glad I could help. Its not heroism, just love at first sight.
I love you too, Gareth blurted, blushing.
He smiled, and Katie returned his smile, shy and bewildered.
Months later, encouraged by Alfie, Gareth proposed.
Hurrah! shouted a delighted friend, We have new mum and dad! Lets get a sibling!
A year passed, and Alfies wish came true. Everything settled peacefully.
