Second Chances

By Nadine Jackson-Croker

James Newham sat gratefully down on a fallen tree trunk that flanked the side of the road where once had stood a dwelling of some sort. He was hot and tired and desperately sad. The Sri Lankan sun beat down upon his back. The warmth easing his aching bones.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: May 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9781669890010

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Copyright © 2023 by Nadine Jackson-Croker.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 05/23/2023

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1   The Surprise In A Box

Chapter 2   All Change

Chapter 3   The Strange Man

Chapter 4   Another Animal

Chapter 5   The New Family

Chapter 6   All Things Bright and Beautiful

Chapter 7   Awards

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CHAPTER 1

The Surprise In A Box

James Newham sat gratefully down on a fallen tree trunk that flanked the side of the road where there had once been a dwelling of some sort. He was hot, tired and desperately sad. The Sri Lankan sun beat down upon his back. The warmth easing his aching bones. He had seen too much destruction, too many lost lives. He looked about him, there was nothing left of whatever had once been there. In just ten short minutes a one hundred foot wave had swept it all away. For what seemed like weeks, James and his oldest friend Ed Saunders had taken leave from their jobs as fire fighters to fly out to this beautiful island in the Indian ocean, volunteering to do what they could to help with the devastation and helping the survivors. Now he was waiting for the transport to take him back to the hotel in Negombo, to rest for a day or two before returning home. He was alone, having decided to walk for a while, to try to pull himself together again after witnessing so much loss. All was silent; all that is, except for the sound of the sea. No storms now, just the normal gentle sound of the waves lapping contentedly against the sandy shore. Slowly, as he began to relax, he felt himself starting to loosen up. The quiet was, in some sort of a way, healing. He closed his eyes and thought of home, of his wife Tabitha, his mates, and his mum and dad on their quiet farm in Devon. Minutes passed, he opened his eyes, and looked at his watch. The transport should arrive soon. He listened for the sound of an engine, but the faint sound he heard was no engine, what was it? A cat?

He listened; there it was again. No – not a cat, another animal perhaps? He got up and standing still listened again. Yes, there it was. It sounded like …. but it couldn’t be, not out here, not in such a deserted place. He crept as quietly as he could toward where he thought the sound was coming from. There was an outcrop of rocks not far from the fallen tree. He stopped and listened again. Yes, there it was again. It was coming from the rocks. He started to search. There didn’t seem to be anything there, just a lot of debris. He pulled some broken boards away from his path. The sound came again, a definite cry, louder now, more persistent. He dragged some larger pieces of wood out of the way and stopped amazed. There, caught in a crevice of the rocks, was a metal box. The lid was hanging off on one side. It looked like one of those large toolboxes. The cry was definitely coming from the box. He clambered over some smaller rocks that lay in front of him and peered inside. What he saw took his breath away. It was a baby. A baby! The baby was very young not more than three or four months old. She was tiny, very dirty, and barely alive. James picked her up and carried her over to where he had dumped his backpack. He opened the zip and pulled out a clean T-shirt and a small hand towel. He took the filthy rags off the child and made a makeshift nappy out of the towel. He wrapped her in the shirt rocking her gently as he did so. Then, holding her close, he talked quietly to her as he sat down once more and waited for the transport.

Well, little one, we must find some milk for you, and fast. He told her. The crying had stopped as she regarded him with huge dark eyes whilst sucking hard on her little fist

Oh boy, I am glad I found you. James continued to talk, it seemed to reassure her.

I bet you could tell a story if you were able to speak. He went on. He looked anxiously down the road, willing the transport to appear.

He couldn’t work out how long he been sitting there, as each minute seemed like an hour. He was truly relieved when, at long last, he heard the definite sound of a engine getting gradually louder. At last the transport trundled round the bend and stopped beside him. He got to his feet, and made his way to the back and threw his backpack on board to land at Ed’s feet, then handing the bundle to Ed, clambered in beside him.

Oh my God! Exclaimed Ed, It’s a baby

No. Said James It’s a cat.

Where – what? Ed was too surprised for words.

In some sort of a trunk thing. It was caught in the rocks. We’ve got to get her some milk.

Ed, always practical, nudged the man sitting next to him. He was a local man who had been working with them and who spoke good English. The man looked at James and back at Ed. From the look on his face, he obviously thought these two fellows were mad.

Where you find it? He asked James, You English strange people. James explained again about the metal box.

We need milk. James explained urgently.

The man was a father himself. He looked at the child, grinned at James, then got to his feet and shouted something to someone sitting just behind the driver. The transport came to a halt. The driver got out and came round to the rear of the transport lorry. He was angry, a fierce conversation took place between the two men as the driver seemed reluctant to help. Until, that was, James took out his wallet. The driver’s eyes lit up as he looked from James to his wallet and back again. Finally he looked at the tiny child. He decided to help. He started up the engine and drove a mile or so down the road to a little hamlet and pulled up outside what looked like a roadside food stall. Leaning out of his cab he beckoned to the owner with whom he has a quick conversation.

The owner, a small, extremely thin older man, dressed in a sarong and a clean shirt that was open down the front, was far more cooperative. He acted at once. He turned around and shouted at the area behind the stall, which looked to James, to be completely empty. However, in a very few minutes, a very pretty young woman appeared with a naked child on her hip. She had a plastic baby bottle half filled with milk. James gave her some money and took the bottle. The transport moved forward again.

For goodness sake don’t give her all of that. We don’t know how long she has been without food. Just give her a little now, and some more in about half an hour. Urged Ed, James nodded.

Yes, you’re right. Besides we don’t know if the bottle has been properly sterilised. He replied.

They reached Negombo about an hour later. Everyone piled out of the transport, thanked the driver, and went into the hotel. James and Ed showered and changed into clean clothes. They gave the baby another feed, then made their way to reception. They asked for the senior receptionist hoping that he would able to give them the information they needed. He looked at them, a totally blank expression on his face. He had never had to deal with anything of the nature before. Fortunately, one of the employees who entertained the guests was more than willing to help. He knew where they should go to report that they had found the baby and directed to the government offices.

But things weren’t as easy as they would have liked. They took a taxi to the government offices where they were told to make an appointment. When they tried to do that, they were informed that there wouldn’t be any appointments until after the weekend. When they explained that they were to fly back to the UK on the following Wednesday the official in charge shrugged his shoulders as if there was nothing he could do and told them to take a later flight.

By the time they got back to the hotel, everyone knew about the baby. They were met at reception by the manager who ushered them into his office where they poured their frustrations in full. The manager, a sympathetic gentleman, and father of a promising family, was determined to be of help. He picked up the telephone, dialled a number and spoke quickly into the receiver. He was insistent and talked for about quarter of an hour. Finally he grinned at them wrote to something down on a notepad and put the phone down. He called to a passing hotel worker and sent him off to find a taxi. He gave Ed the page from the notepad.

He is my cousin. He informed him. He will help you. Go - go now.

Go where? Do we ask for him? James asked pointing at the name on the slip of paper. The Manager, still grinning, waved his hand at them. Yes, yes - Just go.

They picked up the sleeping baby and went out to the waiting taxi and were driven back to the government offices. A short Sri Lankan gentleman dressed in dark trousers and a spotless white shirt was on the steps waiting for them. He shook their hands and led the way inside to a spacious office, with a marble floor, white walls and three revolving fans in the ceiling. There was a large desk at one end of the room and two smaller ones on either side. Chairs had been arranged in front of the large desk. The man went and sat himself down behind it and indicated the chairs to James and Ed.

I have heard, he said. That you have found an infant is that correct?

James answered that it was true, indicting the child in his arms. He explained exactly where and when he had found the child. The official didn’t appear to believe him at first. James insisted that it was exactly as he had told him. At this point Ed confirmed that the place where the transport had stopped to pick James up was indeed totally uninhabited, and that there was nothing there other than a fallen tree and some rocks. He said.

You know that road. The EO 3 from Galle, there is a long sweeping bend where the road is not far from the water.

At last the man’s face lightened, his brow cleared, and he acknowledged that he did know the place. He got up and looked at the sleeping baby.

You do realise that there is no chance at all of finding this child’s parents, he said. There is every chance that that they didn’t survive.

What will happen to her? asked James.

Oh, I expect she’ll go to some sort of an orphanage.

She was female after all was said and done. The official was losing interest.

There are so many homeless. So much to sort out.

His tone was, it seemed to James, as if this child was just one more problem he didn’t want to have to deal with. He looked at Ed, took a deep breath and made up his mind.

How long would it take if I were to adopt her? he asked.

The official looked stunned. After a short silence during which he seemed to struggle with himself, to ponder the question. He stroked his chin thoughtfully, then shook his head, then asked.

When do you leave?

On Wednesday afternoon. Came the