'STOP THE CAR!'

'What?'

'Pull up now. Look,' Mary Dawkins pointed ahead. Her husband strained, peering between the headlights, leaning forward to the steering wheel. The small lump of not much formed a bumpy black patch in the road, taking shape as they neared.

He slowed, then stopped next to the bundle of rags.

Mary leapt out and ran, sluggishly followed by her husband.

'It's nothing, dear,' he called. 'Rubbish somebody threw from their car.'

Mary bent and touched the cloth. She froze, then relaxed and stretched her hands. Mary was feeling the fabric. She kneeled even closer.

'Oh, Richard, it's a child.'

Richard ran the last few steps to her side.

'My God,' he said.

The tiny body lay motionless....

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