Читать книгу Nobody’s Son: All Alex ever wanted was a family of his own - Cathy Glass, Cathy Glass - Страница 9

My heart ached for Alex. Thank goodness he’d been found a loving adoptive family who would help right the wrongs of his past and nurture him towards a bright and positive future, where he would feel loved and valued and thrive as a child should. I drained the last of my now-cold tea, closed the folder and went into the front room, where I placed it in the lockable drawer. I took out my fostering folder so that I could write up my log notes – the daily record foster carers are required to keep of the child or children they are looking after. When the child leaves this record is usually placed on file at the social services. Returning to the living room, I took a pen and a fresh sheet of paper and headed it with today’s date, then I wrote a couple of paragraphs on how Alex was settling in and what we’d done that day. Closing the folder, I placed that in the drawer in the front room too.

Before I went to bed I looked in on Alex. He was sleeping peacefully, although Simba had fallen out and lay on the floor. I quietly picked him up and set him on the pillow again, and then crept out. I never sleep well when there is a new child in the house. I’m half listening out in case they wake frightened, not knowing where they are and needing reassurance, but Alex slept like a log. He was still sound asleep when I checked on him at 6.15, just before I showered and dressed. At seven o’clock I woke all three children and said it was time for them to wash and dress ready for school, and that I needed everyone downstairs for breakfast by 7.20 so we could leave the house at 7.45. I was a little apprehensive about the timing of this new school run; I always am at the start. I obviously didn’t want anyone to be late so I was allowing plenty of time, although I knew that by the end of the week it would all be second nature.

I waited on the landing, checking everyone was getting washed and dressed. There was a clock in each of their bedrooms, although Paula couldn’t tell the time yet. We all went downstairs together and the children sat at the table while I made breakfast. Alex wanted porridge, the same as Adrian and Paula, and said he was looking forward to seeing his friends at school again. As Alex’s school started earlier than Adrian’s it also finished earlier, which would allow me time to collect Alex and then return for Adrian. If I was a few minutes late Adrian knew to wait with his teacher until I arrived. The logistics of this school run were a lot easier than some I’d had to organize.

We left the house on time and arrived at Alex’s school as I intended, just after eight o’clock. As it was the first day I wanted to go into reception and check the school office had my contact details, as very often they didn’t. It relied on the social worker advising the school of the foster carer’s details, and with so much going on when a child comes into care or has to move carers, it can easily be overlooked. As we entered the school Alex said goodbye and went off to join his friends in breakfast club, while Adrian and Paula came with me to the reception desk and then waited to one side as I explained to the school secretary that I was Alex’s new foster carer. She hadn’t been given my contact details and reached for a form for me to complete.

‘I’ve lost count of the number of times that poor kid’s address has had to be updated,’ she said, unimpressed.

‘I know he’s had a lot of moves,’ I agreed. I filled in Alex’s name on the form and then my name, address and telephone number.

‘I assume he’s staying with you permanently?’ she said as I returned the completed from to her. Clearly she was unaware that shortly Alex would be moving to his adopted home, and it wasn’t for me to tell her.

‘He’ll be with me for the time being,’ I said.

She tutted, slid the form into a file and then handed me a copy of the school’s prospectus, as I’d guessed she’d done to other carers before. ‘The term dates are in there, assuming he’s still with you then.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, ignoring the slight. Caring primary-school staff are often very protective of their pupils, with everyone – including the office staff, teachers and the caretakers – knowing the children and looking out for them, but it wasn’t my fault Alex had had so many moves.

We arrived in Adrian’s school playground with two minutes to spare. Paula and I said goodbye to Adrian, and I waited until he’d lined up with his class ready to go in before I took Paula to nursery, which was on the same site. She attended nursery three mornings a week and was always a little clingy on Monday, after the weekend, but one of the nursery assistants came over and took her to the sandpit where a friend of hers was playing, so I was able to kiss her goodbye and leave.

When I arrived home the green light on the answerphone was blinking with a message. It was from Jill. ‘Good morning, Cathy, I guess you’re on the school run. When you have a moment can you give me a ring, please, to confirm Alex’s move yesterday went well. Thank you.’

I took off my coat and shoes and returned the call straight away. Jill was always very efficient and I tried to be too. I told her that Graham had brought Alex as arranged and that Alex appeared fine and was settling in, and was in school now.

‘Excellent,’ she said. ‘Well done.’ Jill often praised her carers and it was appreciated by us. She was responsible for twelve foster carers and made sure she kept up to date and knew as much about the children we fostered as we did.

‘Has there been any mention of a LAC review?’ she asked. LAC stands for ‘looked-after children’.

I’d read the minutes of his previous reviews. ‘No. Just the planning meeting on Wednesday,’ I said.

‘I’ve got that in the diary. I’ll be there. Usually a child has a review after a change in carers, but I’ll check with Debbie. As Alex is only with you for a month she may not feel it’s worth it. I’ll let you know. I’ll see you on Wednesday, but obviously phone if you need to.’

‘Thanks, Jill. I will.’

We said goodbye. It was reassuring to know that the fostering agency offered twenty-four-hour support, seven days a week, although I didn’t think I’d be needing any help with Alex. He was a dear little boy and was only with me for a very short while.

An hour later Debbie, Alex’s social worker, telephoned for an update and I told her more or less what I’d told Jill, including that Alex was in school and the school now had my contact details.

‘Thanks, Cathy. The school have been very good with Alex. Has he got all his belongings with him?’

‘Yes. I think so.’

‘Is there anything he needs?’

‘No. Well, apart from his new parents. He’s so looking forward to meeting them.’

‘I know. Bring your diary with you on Wednesday. We’ll be planning the introductions and the move. It’s a good match. His adoptive parents already have the experience of bringing up their son, so Alex will have a sibling.’

‘Great. How old is he?’

‘Nine. Two years older than Alex. He can’t wait to have a brother.’

‘Fantastic. I do so like happy endings.’

‘So do I, Cathy, so do I.’

The morning flew by and it wasn’t long before I was collecting Paula from nursery. While I was there I took the opportunity to ask Kay, a good friend of mine who had children of a similar age to Adrian and Paula, if she could collect Paula from nursery on Wednesday, as I had to go to a meeting at the social services. She knew I fostered and said straight away that she could. ‘I’ll give the girls lunch and I can also collect Adrian if you’re not back in time,’ she offered.

‘Thanks, Kay, that’s kind of you, although the meeting should finish long before the end of school.’ But it was reassuring to have that safety net. Kay knew a little of what was involved in fostering and we’d helped each other out in the past. She’d been very supportive when my husband had left me and I greatly valued her friendship, as I hoped she did mine. As a foster carer it’s essential to have a good support network of friends and relatives who can be relied upon to help out if necessary, just as it is in everyday life. We left the nursery together and then went our separate ways. Paula was delighted she was going to play with her friend on Wednesday. I would need to inform the nursery of the arrangement, in line with their ‘keeping children safe’ policy.

I find the days fly by, especially during term time with the nursery and school runs. I’d also started working part time, mainly from home – administration work for a small local firm – and I did the work in the evenings or when Paula was at nursery.

After lunch I played with Paula and then read her some stories. Before long it was time to put on our coats and shoes to collect Alex from school. That morning, when I’d taken him, I’d arranged to meet him at a specific place in the playground – over to the right – so he could easily find me. It’s difficult enough for a child to be met from school by a foster carer – the other kids know they’re in care – so it helps them if they can go straight to the carer and not have to search a sea of faces for a half-familiar outline.

Alex spotted me and Paula straight away as soon as his class came out, and his teacher came with him to introduce herself and confirm who I was. Foster carers have identity cards they can show if necessary. She said that Alex had had a good day and had some spelling and reading homework in his bag, and then, wishing us a pleasant evening, went to talk to another parent.

Alex seemed happy and relaxed, and in the car on the way home he talked sweetly to Paula, asking her what she’d been doing while he’d been in school. Not all children know how to talk to little ones, but I guessed he’d had to fit in with so many different families (with different-aged children) that he knew how to interact with younger as well as older children. It was nice to see, and Paula appreciated it.

We arrived in Adrian’s playground just as the klaxon was sounding and I stood in my usual spot with the other mothers. Adrian came out and ran over to us and I asked him as I normally did if he’d had a good day. He said he had, but that he had maths homework to do. I suggested to the boys that they did their homework as soon as we were home so that it was out of the way. This was what Adrian usually did and Alex said he’d done the same at his previous foster carers’. I guess most families have a similar routine.

Once home I made the children a drink and then Adrian and Alex fetched their school bags and settled at the table to do their homework. Seeing the boys working, Paula wanted to do some homework too, so I gave her a sheet of paper, wrote her name at the top in big letters and asked her to copy them beneath and then draw a picture. I’d begun teaching her the letters in her name and it was good practice holding a pencil. Once she’d finished she left the table and watched some pre-school television until the boys had finished.

After dinner all three children played nicely together in the living room, sharing their toys, until it was time for Paula’s bath and bedtime. I left the boys playing while I took her upstairs and once she was settled I brought Alex up and then Adrian. I usually put the children to bed in age-ascending order – it seemed fair that way and worked well – so the youngest went first and the eldest last, although Alex was only six months younger than Adrian. Alex chose his soft toy giraffe to take into bed with him, and as I said goodnight he asked me, ‘Do you know when I’ll see my new mummy and daddy?’

‘I’ll know on Wednesday,’ I said. ‘I have to go to a very special meeting. Your new mummy and daddy will be there, so will your social worker. We will all have our diaries so we can write in the important dates: the days when you will meet your parents and get to know them, and then the most important date of all – when you move in.’ This was life-changing for Alex, so it was essential I maintained the momentum of excited expectation that would have been started by Graham, Sandy and Debbie when they’d talked to him about being adopted and his new parents. I was also genuinely pleased for him. He’d waited a long time for a family of his own and finally it was happening.

Alex smiled broadly and clasped his giraffe in joy. ‘Not long now!’ he said, his eyes sparkling.

‘Not long at all. Do you have any questions?’

He thought for a moment. ‘Not really a question, but can you tell my new mummy and daddy that I’m so happy and I love them already.’

‘I will.’

Alex said similar things to me the next evening – Tuesday – when I saw him into bed. ‘Not long now!’ he said excitedly. And he gave the soft toy elephant he’d chosen for the night a big squeeze.

‘Not long,’ I agreed. ‘The meeting is tomorrow. Any questions?’

‘Will you tell my mummy and daddy that I’m very happy and I can’t wait to be their son?’

‘I will,’ I said, tears pricking the backs of my eyes. ‘I’ll make sure of it.’

On Wednesday morning Alex told us all individually that I was going to a very important meeting today where I would meet his new mummy and daddy and write important dates in my diary. Then in the car as I drove to take him to school he told us all again collectively that I was going to meet his new mummy and daddy.

‘I know, that’s great,’ Adrian said.

But later, after I’d seen Alex into breakfast club and Adrian, Paula and I were in the car again, Adrian said, ‘Can we still see Alex once he’s moved? He’s my friend.’

‘I hope so, but it will depend on his new parents.’

‘If they’re nice, they’ll let us see him, won’t they?’ Adrian asked.

‘Yes, but remember he will only have been with us a few weeks when he leaves, so they might feel it isn’t worth it.’ Harsh, but in my experience true, and it was something the children of foster carers had to accept, difficult though it was.

I saw Adrian into school, and then Paula into the nursery. I checked with Kay that she was still able to collect Paula at lunchtime and then I informed the nursery staff of the arrangement. Having thanked Kay, I kissed Paula goodbye and returned home, where I changed out of my jeans and into a smart skirt and jumper, ready for the meeting at eleven o’clock. I slipped on my coat and with my diary in my handbag I left the house and drove to the council offices, arriving with ten minutes to spare. I signed in at the reception desk and then sat in the waiting area until Jill arrived. My stomach had started to jitter with pre-important-meeting nerves, and by the time Jill appeared it was churning.

‘All set?’ she said, with her usual welcoming smile.

‘Yes, ready to go.’

She signed in at reception and also checked which room the meeting was being held in. ‘So how has Alex been?’ she asked as we made our way up the spiral staircase to the first floor.

‘Really good. No problem. He’s a lovely boy and is so excited about having a mummy and daddy of his own.’

‘Great. He deserves it. And from what Debbie has told me this sounds an excellent match.’

‘Good.’

We arrived outside the room, Jill gave a perfunctory knock on the door, pushed it open and stepped in. ‘Hello, I’m Jill, Cathy’s support social worker.’ I followed her in. ‘And this is Cathy, Alex’s foster carer.’

‘Hello,’ I said, smiling at the four people grouped around the table. Jill and I took the two free chairs.

‘I’m Debbie,’ Alex’s social worker said to me. ‘We’ve spoken on the phone.’

‘Yes, hello.’ Normally I would have met the child’s social worker by now, but the move had happened quickly and at the weekend, so this was the first opportunity. Debbie turned to the others at the table. ‘Would you like to introduce yourselves now everyone is here.’

It was obvious they knew each other, so this was for Jill’s and my benefit. ‘I’m Lin from the Adoption and Permanency Team,’ the woman beside Debbie said.

Jill and I both smiled and said hello. Lin would be the social worker who had matched Alex with his adoptive parents and given them his background details, and would now see them through the adoption process, when her role would end.

‘I’m Rosemary, soon to be Alex’s mother,’ the woman on Lin’s left said confidently and without being asked. ‘And this is my husband.’ She looked to the man seated beside her.

‘Good morning. I’m Edward, soon to be Alex’s father,’ he said with a disarmingly charming smile.

Clearly a very confident couple, well spoken and smartly dressed, who I guessed to be about aged forty. Edward was wearing a light-grey tailored suit with an open-neck shirt, and Rosemary a sophisticated slim-fitting long-sleeve cream dress. We smiled and said hello.

‘Great. Let’s begin then,’ Debbie said with a big grin. ‘We all know why we’re here, and I see everyone has brought their diaries. I do so love these adoption planning meetings.’ We all agreed. Each of us was sitting ready with a diary and pen in front of us and the atmosphere was light and gay. Unlike some meetings I’d attended in respect of the children I fostered, this was a joyous occasion – planning Alex’s move to his forever family. ‘Lin will take a few notes,’ Debbie said, ‘but before we begin, does anyone have any questions?’

Edward cleared his throat to speak. ‘My wife and I were talking on the way here in the car and we think it would be useful if Cathy could tell us how Alex has been with her since the move. It will give us an idea of what to expect.’

‘Yes, absolutely,’ Debbie agreed enthusiastically. Lin nodded. ‘Cathy, I appreciate Alex has only been with you a few days, but if you could tell us how he’s settled in, it would be helpful.’

‘Yes, of course.’ I was half expecting this. Foster carers are often asked to speak near the start of a meeting about the child they are looking after, as they usually have the most up-to-date information on the child.

‘Rosemary and Edward have already been made aware of what Alex’s previous carer said about him,’ Lin added.

I nodded and looked at Rosemary and Edward as I spoke. ‘Alex is a delightful child who appears to be coping very well with all the changes in his life. I could see he felt rejected at having to leave his previous carers, but it hasn’t come out in his behaviour. He’s eating well – he likes a range of foods. He’s sleeping well and is in a good routine. His self-care skills are good. He likes all things that the average boy of seven does: playing games, riding his bike – he had a new one for Christmas – and watching television. He’s getting on well with my son, who is the same age, and also my daughter, who is four years younger.’

‘That’s reassuring,’ Edward said. ‘Our son is just eighteen months older than Alex. One of the reasons we chose him.’

‘It was a matching consideration,’ Lin corrected. The way Edward had phrased it made it sound as though they’d gone to a store and chosen Alex.

‘Thanks, Cathy. Anything else you can add?’ Debbie said to me.

‘Alex is healthy, up to date with his dental and opticians check-ups and is doing well at school.’

‘Yes, he is,’ Rosemary put in. ‘We have a copy of his last school report. Our son, James, is doing well at school too. We have a tutor who comes to help James, and Alex will have the benefit of that too.’

‘My wife and I consider education very important,’ Edward added. ‘We both went to university and we expect our sons to do the same.’

I smiled politely.

‘Anything else?’ Debbie asked me.

‘I don’t think so, other than Alex is looking forward to meeting you both,’ I said to Rosemary and Edward. ‘He said to tell you he’s so pleased you will be his mummy and daddy and that he loves you already.’

‘That’s sweet,’ Rosemary said, while Edward looked slightly uncomfortable.

‘He hasn’t met us yet,’ he said pragmatically.

‘No, but it’s fantastic he’s so willing to accept you,’ Lin pointed out.

Jill and I nodded. ‘He can’t wait to have a family of his own,’ I added.

‘I know,’ Rosemary said quietly, and I saw her eyes mist.