Bessy went to sleep somewhere between the doctor’s surgery and the pharmacy. Finally. She’d sobbed practically all the previous night. She’d sobbed in the doctor’s waiting room and in the surgery. The silence as she slid into sleep was almost deafening.

Pierce was lucky enough to find a parking space just outside the pharmacy. Yes! There was no way he was going to wake her.

But here was another occasion where he could be censured by child welfare-never leave your child alone in a car.

It wasn’t like this was a closed-in car. His cute little sports coupé-a bright yellow MX5 he loved almost more than life itself-was open to the sun. It was a gorgeous spring day. He’d be able to watch Bessy though the window of the pharmacy as he dived in and grabbed the prescription.

But there were ten prescriptions before him.

‘It’ll be twenty minutes,’ the pharmacist said, and Pierce almost groaned.

‘I’ve got kids at home and the baby in the car.’

‘Don’t leave your child in the car.’

‘Look, can you fast track…?’

‘Twenty minutes.’

‘Fine.’ He sighed. He couldn’t slug everyone in this town even if it was starting to feel like everyone was conspiring against him. ‘I’ll sit in the car and wait.’

He tried to stalk out, but his legs were too tired to stalk. As he walked past the window on the way out he caught a look at himself in its reflective glass.

He hadn’t shaved for two days. He’d slept in these clothes.

He looked like death. A little old lady entering the pharmacy gave him a wide berth, and he didn’t blame her.

He slid into the driver’s seat of his cool little car. Beside him, Bessy was still soundly asleep.

‘Twenty minutes, Bess,’ he said, but she didn’t stir.

He empathized. He sighed. He closed his eyes.

The warm spring sun was a balm all by itself. It was quiet. So quiet.