A few seconds, maybe a minute

'For sale, new baby shoes never worn,' it said on the little piece of white card just like the ones we see in newsagent windows. Strange bookmark for a book on book keeping.

Baby Anthony, your baby shoes have at last been sold, still never worn by no one. Mum had written to me about the decision to sell your baby shoes. Your sister Bridget is pregnant and maybe the time had come for your mum to go and buy some baby shoes for her first grand-child.

Baby Anthony your little face I see it every day on my waking and in my dreams, in my patients, friends I should say after twenty years spend with them in the leper colony in India.

How quickly my seemingly strong façade crumbles, "You seem to have gotten over it at last," mum said when she hugged me at the airport, on my first time back in five years "dad would have been glad you know, you do look good." And the tears came rolling down my face again. Every day, a little nudge and it all comes back.

Baby Anthony, I left you unattended for a few seconds. Every day since that day, I beat myself up for doing so but you see I had to help Pam. She was a nurse's helper but she was not very good at it, very slow and a bit lazy too. I went to quickly help her straighten the sheet to make the bed nice and fresh for the next new mum. Thirty seconds max. And you were gone. The empty cot in the corridor. Just me and the empty cot in the long empty corridor. The matron send me home straightaway and I resigned my post that evening.

The next few weeks were a frenzy of looking for you, where is Baby Anthony, who has taken him? Blame the midwife. "Don't you dare go out or even think of helping. Don't show your face any of you. The mob will lynch you," the police ordered. Why did I have to go and help Pam trusting that you would be ok to be left unsupervised for an instant. This was after all a maternity ward and you were 36 hours old. Safe asleep in your cot. Only nice, happy people come to visit maternity wards, we always thought. Then you taught us the hard way

Where did they take you, how did your life story proceed? Your life away from your life. I could not cope with a life without you. The stares people gave me. The reaction when I entered a shop or a café. Overconfident was the verdict. I never liked her. Always her nose in the air, not seeing us. Too good we were but life showed her.

One of your grannies had brought in those baby shoes for you on the day of your birth. Love soft little shoes. I slipped them on. Your visitors were not ready to look after you yet. A new baby takes some getting used especially a first one. But those shoes made it all alright

We all smiled and then I pushed you down the corridor to the nurse’s office. And I left you for a minute not more. Why were you never found? Have you been told your story? Do you know why you don't look like your siblings.

Your sweet little shoes, Baby Anthony. You will always be Baby Anthony for me, for all of us and we are still looking for you, searching young male adults’ features. Not guilt, not anymore but just a need to hold you one more time. Even in India, I couldn't stop myself from looking for you. I will stay with mum and not go back. She needs me, we need each other for a time anyway.