"Failed, Mrs Fletcher. Come back in two days."
Alone in the flat, the pronouncement made by a dour middle-aged nurse, returned to haunt Anna hour after hour, a perpetual reminder of her continued incompetence. Her one mistake had been crossing the black line drawn on a tiny bottle. There was no possibility of remaining in the room adjacent to the nursery for another three hours to try again. But how could she have known Adam would guzzle the formula so fast, and why fill the bottle if he was only supposed to drink a certain amount?
The feeding instructions had been delivered in a no-nonsense tone by a nurse so stout, she could have balanced even full-term babies on her shelf-like bosom. "At home, warm the formula to room temperature and check the temperature by dripping several drops ont
