she touches the baby; it is hot to the touch in a room badly in need of heating. She picks up one of its arms and lets it go. The baby makes no attempt to stop its arm flopping onto the floor. Cilka calls out to the staff. ‘Excuse me, this baby is sick, there’s something wrong with it.’ One of the attendants wanders over. ‘Yeah, been like that for a couple of days.’ ‘Has a doctor seen it?’ ‘Doctors don’t come here, love. These little ones either make it or they don’t. This will be one that probably won’t.’ Cilka looks again at the tiny form, its large head and sunken cheeks, its ribs showing
...more
