Ros Myers knocked on Harry Pearce’s door and entered his office.

“Something up?” Harry asked.

“I’d like your permission for something,” Ros began.

“If it was suggested by Lucas in anyway, then the answer is ‘no’!”

Ros laughed. “You’re quite safe, the idea is mine. Although Lucas could be involved as part of the team.”

“Fair enough. So what is it you want?”

“I’d like us to support our local baby bank. One of my friends volunteers with them and she told me all about it.”

“You know we’re limited in what we can do.”

“This is really very simple. Although it’s called a baby bank, they actually support families with children up to age 16, and one of the things they always need is toiletries. I thought I could put a plastic box in a corner of the office and anyone who wanted to could drop in a tube of toothpaste, a bottle of shower gel, or something similar, which they could easily pick up with their shopping. And once it’s full I’ll drop it off with my friend.”

“I don’t see why not, although don’t be disappointed if you don’t collect very much.”

“Thank you. I’ll put the box out now.”

“And, as ever, my department has already decided what is going to happen before they consult me,” Harry grumbled.

“It could have been worse,” Ros replied, “Lucas could have suggested a doughnut eating contest.”

“Do Not Suggest It To Him!”

***

Ros was surprised at how quickly the box filled up. She had agreed with her friend that she’d bring over to her what they’d collected after a month, but ended up only waiting a fortnight. And Section D unanimously agreed to continue the collection.

Over time Ros noticed the various members of Section D dropping items into the box, and made a point of thanking them.

“That’s okay,” Lucas said, “it helps with the memories. In Russia, I can remember longing for toothpaste that would make my mouth feel really clean, so I’m happy to give someone else that pleasure. And I can remember growing up, how my mother would tut when kids hadn’t washed as much as they should, because there wasn’t enough soap, and how she’d accuse the parents of being wasters when all it took was a sudden expense, or cut in work hours, and they’d be struggling.”

“Neither of those explain the kid’s dinosaur wash mitt.”

“Yeah well. They’re not expensive, but I was never allowed anything like that, being too frivolous. Why shouldn’t a kid have one?”

Jo dropped in a packet in a paper bag.

“Feminine hygiene?” Ros asked quietly.

“Yep! It’s inconvenient at the best of times, but at least I have the essentials.”

Tariq’s contribution was baby bath and baby wipes. Noticing Ros’ surprised expression he said, “Yeah, no, I didn’t buy them myself. I’ve got this arrangement with my sister, when she’s shopping for her kid, she buys some extra for me and I pay her for them. She told me about this friend’s sister who’s a young teenager and just had a baby. How difficult must that be?”

Adam arrived shortly afterwards, opened his backpack and put several items into the box.

“Wow, that’s kind of you,” Ros said.

“Not really. I’ve been buying stuff for the past three weeks and finally remembered to bring it in. Call it my response to toxic masculinity. Mothers fleeing from an abusive partner often leave with nothing for the kids, or themselves. The least I can do is buy some items for them.”

Ros was just packing the donations into a couple of bags when Harry hurried over with his contribution.

“We spend so much time following up people who shouldn’t be in this country, for various reasons,” he said, “we tend to forget that there are refugees for whom we’re their only hope. So this is so they feel marginally less unwelcome.”

Later that evening, when Ros had delivered the donations to her friend, and they were enjoying a glass of wine together, the friend said, “I’m really impressed with the support your colleagues are giving.”

“Oh, they’re not a bad bunch. And they all have their own reasons for contributing.”