You have to give us the child. Were his real parents, said the strangers at the doorstep.
Mum, can I stay home from school tomorrow? My head hurts again! Alfie stood in the kitchen doorway, clutching the doorframe.
Natalie turned away from the stove where she was stirring soup. Her son did look pale, dark circles under his eyes.
Again? Alfie, this is the third time this week. Maybe we should see the doctor?
No doctor. Just tired. Can I stay home?
Well see in the morning. Go do your homework.
Already did it.
All of it? Even maths?
Even maths.
Natalie stepped closer and pressed her hand to his forehead. No fever, but hed been so withdrawn lately. The boy who used to bounce off the walls now spent hours staring out his bedroom window.
Alfie, is everything okay at school? No ones bothering you?
Everythings fine, Mum. Just my head.
He shuffled off to his room. Natalie went back to the stove, but unease gnawed at her. Eight years raising a child, thinking you know every inch of themthen suddenly realising somethings wrong, but you cant quite put your finger on it.
When her husband James got home from his shift, he took one look at her worried face and frowned.
Whats happened?
Alfies complaining about headaches again. Third time this week.
So take him to the GP.
Ive tried. He refuses. Maybe hes just worn out? End of term, tests and all.
James went to check on Alfie. Natalie heard their low murmurs before he returned, slumping into a chair.
Says hes fine. But he agreed to see the doctor tomorrow.
Good. Ill book an appointment first thing.
At dinner, Alfie barely touched his plate. Poked at his mashed potatoes, sipped his tea, then asked to go to bed. Natalie and James exchanged glances.
Dyou reckon hes got a crush? James mused. Happens at that age.
Hes eight, James.
Kids grow up fast these days.
Natalie cleared the table, her mind racing. Was it school? Or something worse?
She checked on Alfie throughout the night. He tossed and turned, mumbling in his sleep. When she smoothed his hair, his eyes fluttered open.
Mum?
Go back to sleep, love. Its alright.
Mum do you love me?
Of course I do. More than anything.
Even if even if Im not yours?
Natalie froze.
Dont be silly, Alfie. Of course youre mine. Now sleep.
He rolled over, facing the wall. Natalie left, but sleep wouldnt come. Where did an eight-year-old get thoughts like that?
The next morning, Alfie got ready without prompting. Ate his toast, packed his bag.
Mum, Ill go to school. Heads better.
You sure? Weve got the doctor
Im fine. He dashed off before she could argue.
The day dragged. Work, groceries, cookingbut the worry wouldnt lift. She nearly rang his teacher twice but stopped herself. No need to be *that* mum.
At three, the doorbell rang.
A man and woman stood therestrangers. The man was tall, dark-haired, mid-forties. The woman younger, pretty but tense.
Hello, the man said. Are you Natalie Harris?
Yes. Who are you?
Im Daniel Carter. This is my wife, Claire. We need to talk.
About?
He glanced at his wife. She nodded, as if steeling herself.
Your son. Alfie.
Natalie stiffened.
What about him? Did something happen at school?
No, schools fine. May we come in? Its complicated.
I dont know you. What could we possibly
Claire stepped forward, her eyes glistening.
Please. Its important. Youyou need to give him to us. Were his real parents.
Natalie stumbled back. Her ears rang.
What? Thats insane! Alfies *my* son!
Listen. Daniel pulled papers from a folder. There was a mistake at the hospital. Eight years ago. The babies were switched.
Get out! Now! Or Ill call the police!
Natalie, please, Claire choked out. Weve raised a child too. Loved him. Then we found out
Found out *what*?
Our sonwell, the boy we raisedhe got sick. Needed a blood transfusion. The blood types didnt match. Neither of ours. We did a DNA test.
Natalie gripped the doorframe. Her legs wobbled.
And?
Hes not biologically ours. We checked hospital records. That night, only two boys were born. Ours and yours.
This is some mistake.
We tested again. Then we got a sample from Alfie.
You *what*? How?
Daniel looked away.
We followed him. Took a juice carton he threw out. It was enough.
You *stalked* my child? Thats illegal!
We had to know. The test matched. Alfie is ours.
Natalie staggered to the hall chair. The strangers lingered in the doorway.
Show me the papers.
Medical records. DNA results. Birth documents. The words swam.
This cant be real.
We didnt want to believe it either, Claire whispered. Eight years. Eight years I spent raising someone elses boy.
Hes *not* someone elses! Daniel snapped. Oliver *is* our son. Not by bloodbut ours. We love him.
And we love Alfie, Natalie said hoarsely. Were not giving him up.
But hes *ours* by blood
By *blood*? Who stayed up when he teethed? Who sat in A&E when he had chickenpox? Who helped with his times tables?
We understand, Daniel said gently. Truly. Were in the same boat. Oliver is family. But
But *what*?
Wed like to see Alfie. And you if you wanted could see Oliver.
I dont *want* to see Oliver! I have a sonAlfie!
The front door slammed. James stood there, taking in the scene: strangers, his wife in tears.
Whats going on? Nat, you okay?
James theyre saying Alfie isnt ours.
Thats bollocks.
Daniel offered a hand. Daniel Carter. This is my wife, Claire. There was a hospital mix-up. Your son is biologically ours. Ours is yours.
James ignored the hand, snatched the documents.
What do you want?
We just wanted to meet him. See him.
See him and *what*? Take him?
No! Claire flinched. Were not monsters. The boys have their families. We just wed like to be part of his life.
Do they know?
Oliveryour biological sonwe havent told him yet. Dont know how.
Good. And we wont tell Alfie.
He already knows, Claire said softly.
*What*? How?
We dont know. Yesterday, he came up to us near his school. Said, Youre my real parents, arent you? We didntwe were shocked. He said he *felt* it. Knew he wasnt like you.
Natalie remembered last night. *Even if Im not yours?*
Where did he see you?
Wed been watching the school. Just to catch a glimpse. He mustve noticed. *Felt* something.
Christ. Natalie covered her face. What now?
Lets talk calmly, Daniel said. The boys were switched. Two families love their kids. We need a solution that works for everyone.
What *solution*? James growled. Swap them back?
No! Thats impossible. But we have rights
You have *no* rights!
Legally, we do. As biological parents.
Sod the law! Alfies *our* son!
The door creaked open. Alfie stood there, eyeing the adults.
Mum, whyre you crying?
Natalie swept him into a hug. Its nothing, love.
Over her shoulder, Alfie studied the Carters. Claire pressed a hand to her chest, tears spilling.
Hello, Alfie,
