They'd taken him away from her, removed him. For now. Most of her relieved, a smaller part ashamed.
"Adopt him, you've got the room?" she'd asked her married sister, knowing she wouldn't leave him home alone, asleep in his cot. Knowing she wouldn't forget to change him, clip his nails, rub Sudocrem into the eczema patches behind his little fat knees. Her sister said it wasn't that simple. Said she was immature, childish and maybe it was for the best.
His birth had meant her own flat. Friends round when she liked. Her sister said she could live with her, if they took that too.
She imagines him crawling across a magnolia living room, towards the couple who have him, for now. He's smiling, pleased with himself. She sees the small bruise at the top of his right arm, just a pinch, when he wouldn't stop bawling.
Her mate Kelly is moving down to London, said she could sleep on her floor till she got herself sorted. If they don't give him back, she'll probably just do that instead.