I don’t feel guilty about taking the baby.

The poor baby was just left there, abandoned on the pavement in her stroller.

She needed someone to rescue her. She’s lucky I was even walking by.

I look around my flat, knowing that perhaps this isn’t the very best of places for her. She deserves better, this beautiful exquisite little creature, with her deliciously soft cheeks, plump arms and little hands like starfish, a divine dimple above each knuckle.

I love her so very much and I’ll always take care of her. I have so much love to give – and she will love me.

My beautiful baby girl is asleep at last.

Nestled in her stroller, which I have managed to convert to a lying position, my heart aches to see tears dried on her face, snot trickled down her lip, almost into her mouth, but I dare not wipe her face and wake her.

She is settled, contented, her arms flung upwards above her head. There is a strange smell coming from her, mingled with the delicious baby scent that I so love and so yearn for. It’s a bit tangy and acrid.

I changed her nappy earlier. I was able to buy some nappies and formula from a shop away from my home. I really don’t think I’m doing wrong, but I know how interfering people can be so best not to shop for her stuff at my local.

I still haven’t named her. I have some great names in mind. Christ, I’ve been dreaming about baby names since I was one myself! Lilly, Emily, Mary, Barbara – I like those classic names.

I sigh. My baby deserves better than this dump. I know my place is rundown, small, even squalid, but she and I will build a life together. We’re going to make a great team.