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By the end of her second day shift, Megan Bates Halliday had earned the nickname of ‘Peanut’, due to her small size, and had at least half a dozen macho specimens of manhood quite besotted with her. Not that they advertised the fact, of course.

‘I’ll have a hold, if you have something else you want to do, Jase.’

‘Hey, thanks, Cliff. I’m due to do a check on the breathing apparatus filters and valves. Shouldn’t take too long.’

‘We’ll be all right. Take as long as you like.’ Cliff adjusted his hold on the baby. ‘What do you reckon. Peanut? Shall we see what’s on the sports channel?’

When Jason came back, having completed the maintenance duty, he found Megan being held by Stick.

‘Wasn’t my idea,’ Stick said loftily.

‘Was so,’ Cliff contradicted. ‘I suggested a game of snooker to Bruce and you said, “Guess I’ll have to have a turn with Peanut, then.”’

‘You could have left her with Mrs Mack.’

Jason noticed that, although Stick was now looking somewhat sheepish, he wasn’t in any hurry to offload his burden. ‘She’s busy washing the floors.’

‘Is Laura still out on the road, then?’

‘Yeah. They’re having a really busy day. I don’t think they’ve even been back for a lunch break.’

Snooker balls clicked and Cliff whistled appreciatively. ‘Nice shot, Bruce.’

‘Six points,’ Stick informed Megan. ‘Let’s put them on the board, shall we?’ Megan did appear to be watching as Stick moved the marker to a new score and the cooing noise could easily be read as approval. Stick grinned. ‘She’s catching on,’ he told Jason. ‘Pretty smart, isn’t she?’

‘I like a girl who likes watching snooker.’ Cliff was lining up his next shot. ‘I reckon she should be the station mascot.’

Stick’s nod was enthusiastic. ‘I’ll bet Mrs Mack could make her a junior-sized uniform. That’d be cute.’

Jason could just imagine Megan as a toddler with a custom-made fireman’s jacket and helmet. He could even see her holding his hand as she tottered along beside the life-sized version. Hell, it would be cute. He shoved the image aside and held out his arms.

‘She’s due for a feed,’ he said. ‘I’m surprised she’s not yelling her head off by now.’

‘She likes us,’ Cliff announced.

‘Don’t get too attached,’ Jason warned. ‘I’m not keeping her.’

‘Might not be that bad, you know.’ Stick’s gaze slid away from Jason’s raised eyebrows. ‘Well, she is kinda cute. For a baby, that is.’

Absurdly, Jason felt proud of the fact that Megan was his daughter as he carried her away from the games room and gymnasium towards the kitchen. She could certainly turn on the charm at times. His colleagues had no idea what she was like when she wasn’t happy, though. They wouldn’t be anything like as smitten if they had to endure an hour or two of grizzling ill humour.

As he had to that night. There was no pleasure in having a beer while he cooked dinner listening to that incessant squalling. She quietened down so that Laura could eat in peace, he noticed, but he felt obliged to keep walking round and round the living room in the hope of getting her off to sleep.

‘Did you end up getting any lunch?’ he asked Laura.

‘No. This is great, though. What is it?’

‘Goulash.’

‘Is it?’ Laura took another mouthful. ‘I can’t taste any paprika.’

‘What’s paprika?’

‘The red stuff that looks like pepper and goes into goulash.’

‘Nah.’ Jason skirted the couch and began another circuit. ‘Goulash is just what you make when you chop up all the leftovers, throw in some veg and cook it.’

‘Whatever. It tastes fantastic.’