On a stormy night in late autumn at the Gordon Ramsey restaurant, a woman walked in with two Maxicosys in her arms. The staff knew that babies were frowned upon, but the woman looked sad and weak.They just let her sit down.

She put one of her babies in a corner seat. Hiding it almost in the shadows. She put the other one next to her. She ordered an expensive meal. She ate it quickly.

She wrote something on a piece of paper and placed it next to the half-hidden baby. Then she put money on the table and went to the toilet.

she left without anyone seeing her. She took one of the Maxicosy's with her. No one really noticed.

A few minutes before closing time, the waitress who was to close up made one last sweep of the dining room. She had long brown hair, friendly brown eyes. She had a warm smile and a very pretty face. She was wearing a standard waitress outfit. She was shocked when she found Maxicosy. Not because it was there. People left things all the time. But it wasn't empty inside. It looked like a newborn baby girl. There was a note taped to where she'd sat.

" This is. Well, I don't care what her name is. Her date of birth is the 19th of November. She is your problem now.

The note said. What was she going to do? She couldn't just leave this baby. According to the note, she was only three days old. But she couldn't take her home. She wanted to, but she didn't make enough money to give her a good life.

She picked up the baby carrier. She went into the office. "There was a man sitting behind the desk.

He had short mousy-coloured hair. He had blue eyes, he looked a bit stern.

"Sir, we have a problem," she said. She said. She showed the child to the manager. "Bleeding Christ," he said as he jumped. The baby cried. "We've got to get her to a safe place." The waitress said.

"Your right precilla. Wouldn't you like to take her?" He asked. "No. I would like to, but I can't afford an infant. It would be worse for her.

"Then take her to Social services, I will call the authorities to let them know you are coming." He said. And he picked up the old-fashioned telephone on his desk. After a few moments he began to speak.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Yes, good evening, I know it is late, but we have a bit of an emergency. Me? Oh yes, sorry, I am Alex Storm. The situation is as follows. We have a baby on our premises who has apparently been the victim of an abandonment situation. Yes, it is terrible. Who would do such a thing? Yes, well, I will send my waitress who is the one that found the child over to you so that the baby can be looked after. Yes, thank you." He hung up the phone.

"Well Precilla, I have an address here. "He quickly wrote something down. "They expect you there. And they expect you to register as their finder. "He said. "And to register a name, I can ask the owner if we can use his last name." He said again and picked up the phone.

He looked at PricillAfter a short conversation. "You can use his last name. Now go. The more time we spend talking, the more danger she could be in." He said. "Ill lock off. This is out of your control." He said, and gave her a rare, warm smile.

Holding the baby carrier, she ran to her car and She quickly navigated to the address she was given. When she got there, the building looked like a hospital.

Most of the lights were out except for one room near the entrance. She made her way to it, carrying the baby who had not cried since she found her. It worried her.

She stepped inside. A bored looking woman was sitting behind a desk. She had pale grey hair and dull grey eyes. "Welcome to East London Social Services can I help you?" She said in a bored voice.

"Yes," Pricilla said. "I am Pricilla Dawson. My supervisor called." She said. "Yes I know, hold on." The bored women said.She pressed a button under a microphone,

"Miss Hurlbutt, your emergency just came in." she said. "Be right there." She heard a voice come back from a loudspeaker. A dark-haired, slightly plump woman emerged from an office a few minutes later.

"You did the right thing, dear," she said as she took a pen from the clipboard she was holding. "Your name?" she asked. "Oh yes, of course, sorry. Precilla Dawson. " she replied. "Age?" the women asked. "23." Precilla said. "And you leave your baby with us." She heard the desk atendand say,

"I do not appreciate the jugement, Stella. But just so you know. Miss Dawson here is not the mother. And even if she were, we are not in the business of being judges. Mrs Hurlbutt said.

"Child's name, dear?" she asked. "I've been thinking about it and I think I would call her Carmen. We gave her the surname Ramsey to honour where we found her. " Pricilla clarified.

"OK, Carmen Ramsey it is. Give her here, we will get her checked out by a doctor. Oh two more questions." She said.

"Can we use you as a contact if she wants any information when she grows up?" the women asked. "Yes, as much as I can give her." Pricilla replied. "And what can you tell us about the mother?" she asked.

"Not much, I think it was the sad looking blonde who had a meal and then took another carrier, but I cannot be sure." She said. "So if that is true, she might have a sibling?" the women asked. "Yes she could, I am not sure." Pricilla said. "Thank you sweetheart, give her to me now." The woman added. With a heavy heart she handed over the baby. "Have a good life Carmen." She said and walked away with a backward glance.