Читать книгу Nobody’s Son: Part 2 of 3: All Alex ever wanted was a family of his own - Cathy Glass, Cathy Glass - Страница 6

‘Can’t I stay?’ Alex protested when I collected him on Sunday afternoon.

‘No, love, you have to go back with Cathy for just one more night,’ Rosemary said to him. ‘Then you come to stay with us.’

‘Forever,’ I added, smiling encouragingly at Alex. ‘I’m going to make us a special tea with jelly and ice cream, and we’ve bought you a present.’

‘A present!’ Rosemary exclaimed, helping Alex into his coat. ‘You can’t miss that. Enjoy your evening and we’ll see you tomorrow morning.’

She kissed the top of his head and Alex came with us, a little reluctantly, while Rosemary and James saw us off. Edward had gone out for a while. As I settled the children into their seats I saw that Adrian was looking a little hurt that Alex hadn’t wanted to come with us, and I threw him a reassuring smile. But of course it was a good sign that Alex had wanted to stay with his family, and confirmed that during the introductory period he had successfully transferred his affection and sense of where home was from us to them. By the time we arrived home Adrian was chatting happily to Alex and they were both looking forward to our party tea.

I’d hung balloons and streamers in the living room and had set the table ready with a colourful tablecloth, matching napkins and paper party cups. In our absence Toscha had managed to pull down one of the streamers and was playing with it, chasing it around the room, which made Alex laugh.

‘Do you think my mum will let me have a cat?’ he asked me.

‘I don’t know, you’d have to ask her. Not everyone likes pets.’

‘I’ll ask her tomorrow,’ he said.

I organized some party games that worked with just the few of us – hide and seek, hunt the thimble, sleeping lions, pass the parcel (in which I’d hidden a wrapped sweet between each layer of paper and a prize in the centre). Then I set the party food on the table: small sausage rolls, slices of pizza, little samosas, cheese straws, crisps and bowls of finely sliced cucumber and tomatoes, which we ate with fizzy lemonade. Once we’d had our fill of the savouries I brought out the individual jellies and ice cream, and a plate of chocolate biscuits and cupcakes. Then we gave Alex the presents we’d bought him and which I’d previously wrapped – boxed games of Guess Who?, Operation and draughts, which he’d enjoyed playing with us, together with a card signed by us all. There was also a good-luck card from my parents containing a five-pound note, even though they’d never met him, which was kind. There was a card from Jill sent on behalf of the agency wishing Alex luck in his new home. Once he’d finished admiring the cards and gifts, I packed them in one of his cases so they wouldn’t be forgotten. Then we settled in the living room to watch a children’s movie, popping to the table every so often to help ourselves to another biscuit or savoury. By the end of the evening most of the food had gone.

Although Alex didn’t have to be up for school the following morning – it was his moving day – Adrian had to be, so I took the children up to bed at a reasonable time; Paula first and then Alex and Adrian. Alex’s room was looking bare now with everything packed apart from his nightwear, one soft toy and a change of clothes for the morning.

‘This is my last night here,’ he said as, after a wash, he climbed into bed. ‘Will I remember it?’

‘You may,’ I said. ‘But I’ve taken a photograph of your room and put it in your Life Story Book, as well as some of us. It’s packed in one of the cases.’ Alex knew about his Life Story Book from being with other carers. It is a record of the child’s time with the carer and includes photographs and memorabilia – for example, cinema tickets, the child’s drawings and merit certificates from school – and is considered part of good fostering practice now. It’s an aide-memoire that the child takes with them to supplement their own memories so they can retain a sense of their past. Having to move around so much can blur memories, as they don’t have their birth parents to keep a treasure chest of memories alive.

‘Will my mum and dad put photographs in my book too?’ Alex asked.

‘You can decide that with them. They will certainly take photographs, but they may put them in photograph albums. That’s what we do here.’

He nodded and snuggled down, and appeared to be taking the end of his stay with us in his stride. ‘Well, goodnight then, love,’ I said. ‘It’s a busy day for you tomorrow, so get some sleep. Would you like a goodnight kiss?’

‘No, thank you,’ he said with a small, embarrassed smile. ‘I’m saving all my kisses for my mummy.’

‘I know.’

He turned onto his side and with one arm around his polar bear gave a little sigh of contentment as he closed his eyes ready for sleep.

The following morning Alex was up and getting dressed when I went into his room. ‘It’s all right, you’ve got plenty of time,’ I said. ‘They’re not coming until ten-thirty, after we’ve taken Adrian to school.’

‘I know, but I want to be ready,’ he said excitedly.

‘OK. But stay in your room and play while I get Paula up.’ Which he did.

For Adrian it was another Monday morning, and because it was the middle of winter the dark and cold outside added to his feeling that he’d rather be in bed than getting ready for school. It took a few reminders before he was up and dressed and downstairs having breakfast.

‘This is my last breakfast here,’ Alex announced with a child’s ability to state the raw truth.

It didn’t help, and Adrian nodded glumly while Paula stared at Alex, not sure what to say.

In the playground I discovered that Paula’s nursery was closed until further notice due to a burst water pipe, so she would have to come home with me. However, a friend of Adrian’s handed him a party invitation, which brightened his spirits.

‘Can I go?’ he asked eagerly.

‘Yes, I should think so. I’ll check in the diary and then we’ll return the acceptance slip.’ Adrian would have done it there and then.

When the klaxon sounded for the start of school Adrian knew he had to say goodbye to Alex and he did so quickly. It was Adrian’s way of dealing with the separation.

‘Bye,’ he said. ‘It was nice having you stay.’

‘Bye,’ Alex said.

I said goodbye to Adrian, wished him a good day and said I’d see him at the end of school. He gave me a quick hug and then ran off to join his class, but I saw him turn round for one final glance at Alex. We returned home, where Alex played with Paula and her toys while I gathered together the last of Alex’s belongings and packed them in the cases. I could hear them laughing and chuckling as they played. Alex was very good with little children and I was pleased we were ending on a happy note.

At ten o’clock I made us all a drink and a snack, which we’d only just finished when the front doorbell rang – at 10.20.

‘That’s them!’ Alex cried. Slipping from his chair, he ran down the hall and then waited for me to open the front door.

‘Good morning,’ I said brightly to Rosemary and Edward. James was at school.

‘Good morning, Cathy,’ Edward returned equally brightly. ‘How are you?’ Rosemary said to Alex as they came in.

‘I’m good,’ he grinned, and gave her a big hug.

‘What a lovely welcome!’ Rosemary smiled, clearly pleased.

Edward was in his suit, so I guessed he was going straight to work after the move. We all knew we should keep Alex’s departure short, as it was generally felt that to prolong this final goodbye could be upsetting for the child – although Alex was so focused and looking forward to starting his new life that I didn’t think leaving us was going to be a problem for him. Not like some children I’d looked after, who for various reasons really didn’t want to leave and move on.

I waited with the children indoors while Edward and Rosemary loaded the car. Then, once it was packed, they returned inside and we stood in the hall ready to say goodbye.

‘Well, thanks for everything,’ Edward said, shaking my hand warmly. ‘Look after yourself and say goodbye to Adrian for us.’

‘Thank you, I will.’ Paula was holding my hand, so I told her to say goodbye to Alex.

‘Bye,’ she said sweetly and the adults smiled.

‘Bye, Paula,’ Alex said and gave her a little hug.

‘Goodbye then, love,’ I said to him. ‘It’s been great having you stay. Your mummy and daddy are very lucky to have you.’

He smiled.

‘That’s kind,’ Rosemary said.

‘Bye, Cathy,’ Alex said, and slipped his hand into his mother’s.

‘Thanks for everything,’ Rosemary said to me, kissing my cheek. ‘You’ll phone us in a couple of weeks?’

‘Yes.’ This had been agreed at the planning meeting. It was usual for a carer to phone at least once after a child left and to hopefully see them. ‘But do phone me if you have any questions or problems,’ I added. ‘Although I’m sure you won’t.’

‘Thank you.’

As it was cold outside I slipped Paula into her coat while we saw them off. We stood on the pavement just the other side of our garden gate and waved as the engine started and the car began to slowly pull away, Alex’s little face beaming at us through the rear window.

‘Bye!’ Paula and I called, waving.

We continued waving until the car had disappeared from view and then we returned indoors. Yes, I had a twinge of sadness that Alex had gone, but I knew he was going to the best place ever – a loving adoptive home. I also knew it wouldn’t be long before I was fostering another child, for sadly foster carers are always needed for children who can’t live with their own families.

I played with Paula for a while and then, as I was reading her a story, she dozed off on the sofa. While she slept, I took the opportunity to telephone Debbie to tell her Alex’s move had gone well.

‘Excellent,’ she said. ‘I was going to phone you later. So there weren’t any last-minute hiccups?’

‘No. It was a textbook move. It went perfectly smoothly.’

‘Good. I’ll let Lin know. She will be seeing the family regularly until the adoption goes through.’ This was normal practice.

Debbie thanked me for all I’d done and we said goodbye. I then telephoned Jill to update her, but she was out of the office, so I left a message with a colleague saying that Alex’s move had gone to plan. Jill telephoned back an hour later, by which time Paula was awake and playing with the building bricks on the floor of the living room, where I took the call.

‘So you survived your first placement after your break,’ Jill said lightly.

‘Yes, although it wasn’t much of a survival test. Alex was lovely and no problem at all.’

‘Even so, he could have become unsettled and angry after all his previous moves. It’s down to your good fostering that the transition to his adoptive family was so successful.’

‘Thank you, but I think it was the promise of going to his adoptive family that saw him through.’

‘Nevertheless, you played your part. And you’re ready to foster again?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. Because this next lad could be more of a challenge.’

I gave a small laugh. ‘Yes, go on.’

‘Connor is ten years old and the social services are going to court on Thursday to try to bring him into care. His family are well known to the social services. He has a number of half-brothers and sisters who are already being cared for by relatives, and Connor is the last to go. His father is in prison and his mother obviously doesn’t want to lose him, so she is opposing the social services application. Connor has challenging behaviour, but his social worker told me she’s sure it’s because there are no boundaries at home. His behaviour is reasonably manageable at school.’

‘I see,’ I said hesitantly. Carers are expected to take any child referred to them within the age range they are approved to foster. It’s not a pick-and-choose situation – all these children need a home. I was currently approved to foster newborns to sixteen-year-olds, so I would be expected to take Connor. I could say no, but it would have to be for a very good reason.

‘His social worker is aware that you’re a single parent and have two young children,’ Jill continued. ‘Ideally she’d like him to have a male carer but none are free. She said she’s sure that if he goes to an experienced carer who can manage his behaviour he will settle down.’

‘I see,’ I said again. ‘Does he have any history of violence?’ I asked, mindful of Adrian and Paula.

‘At home there have been incidents but not in school. He has no respect for his mother.’

‘And you think Adrian and Paula will be safe? I obviously don’t want to place them in danger.’

‘I think Connor will be hard work to begin with, but with firm and consistent boundaries I’m sure he will soon settle.’ Which wasn’t exactly what I’d asked, but was probably as much reassurance as Jill could offer.

‘All right. When is he arriving?’

‘I’ll speak to his social worker and call you back. Assuming they’re granted the Care Order on Thursday, I expect they’ll want to move him on Thursday evening or Friday.’