Nobody’s Son: Part 2 of 3: All Alex ever wanted was a family of his own. Cathy Glass

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      They had two rounds of the football game and it was just after 7.30 when I saw them to the door. ‘We’ll phone you tomorrow,’ Rosemary told Alex. ‘Then on Thursday we’re taking you out for dinner.’ Alex threw her a really warm, appreciative smile. ‘Would you like a hug?’ she asked him.

      He nodded and, delighted, Rosemary gave him a hug, and then Edward shook his hand. As they left I could tell by their faces that they, too, felt the evening had been a great success. Alex had taken another step closer to his family and before long they would all be together. He would have his forever family and Rosemary and Edward the son they so dearly wanted.

      As it was close to Adrian’s and Alex’s bedtimes I took the boys up to bed at the same time as I took Paula, and then left them to get ready while I put Paula to bed. She fell asleep almost immediately. I was pleased that Edward had managed to come this evening, as I knew it would mean a lot to Alex. As I tucked him into bed that night he said, ‘Dad left work early so he could see me. That shows how much he loves me.’

      ‘It does,’ I said, smiling.

      ‘I think he’s going to be a good dad, don’t you?’

      ‘Yes. I’m sure he will be.’

      ‘And Mummy will be a good mummy and James a good brother. I’m so happy.’

      ‘So am I.’

      The introductions continued. Alex’s family telephoned on Wednesday evening and then took him out to dinner on Thursday. They went to a little bistro I suggested in our high street and had an enjoyable time. On Friday morning Jill and Lin telephoned for updates and I was able to tell them everything was going well and to plan. They were obviously pleased, although this was no more than they’d expected. Alex was ripe for a permanent family and this family was a good match for him. On Friday, following the timetable, I left Alex at his new home for two hours, where he had dinner, and I took Adrian and Paula for something to eat in the neighbouring town, as there wasn’t time to go home. We returned as arranged to collect Alex at 7.30 and Paula slept in the car on the way home while Alex told Adrian about his evening. I listened as I drove and it all seemed to be positive. He and James had played and then the family, including Edward, had eaten together – lasagne, which Alex had enjoyed. After dinner Alex had watched James do his violin practice, which he had to do every evening, but he said it sounded a bit ‘squeaky’.

      Saturday was a really big day for Alex, as he was spending his first night at his new home, so I carefully packed his overnight bag. He wasn’t at all apprehensive and was looking forward to sleeping in his new bed. He chose his soft toy, Simba, to take with him, which he was happy to leave there for next time. As per the timetable we were due to arrive at about 11 a.m. Adrian and Paula came with me, but they understood that we wouldn’t stay for long. Alex wanted to show Adrian his bedroom, so we popped in for a quarter of an hour only and then said goodbye. With nothing planned for the afternoon I made an impromptu visit to my parents, who were surprised and pleased to see us. We stayed for tea.

      On Sunday we woke to a very light covering of snow – pretty but not deep enough to do anything with other than make footprints. The children and I went out into the garden for a while after breakfast, then had to leave to collect Alex for eleven o’clock. By the time we arrived a wintry sun sat in a cloudless sky and the snow had melted. Churchwell, their village, surrounded by countryside, was idyllic – quintessentially English, as you would see on a picture postcard – but remote. There wasn’t even a village shop. Alex was tired and kept yawning, as he and James had stayed up late. Rosemary said she’d made it clear to them that this was a treat and once Alex had moved in they would be keeping to regular bedtimes, apart from weekends, when there was no school in the morning. We all said goodbye, I put Alex’s overnight bag in the boot of the car and his family waved us off. In the car Alex told us his dad and James were going cycling now the snow had gone and he was looking forward to going with them once he’d moved in – in a little over a week’s time.

      ‘Great,’ I said. ‘That sounds good. Did you remember to leave Simba on your bed?’

      ‘Yes, but I hid him under the covers. James doesn’t have soft toys. He’s says they’re for little boys.’

      I glanced at him in the mirror. ‘Alex, there is no need to feel embarrassed about taking a toy to bed with you.’ He met my gaze but didn’t reply. ‘James was nice to you, wasn’t he?’

      ‘Yes. We had to play what he wanted all the time, but I didn’t mind.’

      Alex was used to living with other children (from being in care) and therefore had experience of sharing and taking turns, while James had been an only child, so sharing, especially at home, could be a learning curve for him.

      ‘You don’t always have to play what James wants,’ I said, glancing at him again in the mirror. ‘Shall I mention it to your mum?’

      ‘No. I can tell her if I want,’ Alex said easily. ‘She’s nice. She said if I had any problems I should tell her. But it’s not a problem.’

      ‘OK. See how it goes then. But remember to tell her if there is anything at all worrying you.’ It was important that Alex knew he could confide in her if necessary.

      ‘Yes, I will,’ he said.

      School for Alex the following week was just an irritating interruption in between the times he saw his family or spoke to them on the phone. They dominated his thoughts and conversation as he eagerly awaited the next time he could see or speak to them. And when he wasn’t talking about the next time he would see them he was reminiscing about the last time. On Monday the telephone conversation with his family was much easier and it flowed; he was talking to them for over half an hour. Then on Tuesday, straight after school, I took him to his new home for dinner. It was when I had to make a journey like this on a cold, dark evening that I really felt being a single parent. Had my husband still been living with us he would have most likely looked after Adrian and Paula so they could stay at home in the warm and have dinner rather than going out again. Thankfully, Adrian’s homework didn’t have to be given in the following day, and he was good enough not to complain about losing his evening. I think he appreciated there was little alternative.

      While Alex was with his family I took Adrian and Paula to eat in the neighbouring town again, and then had to drive back along the poorly lit, unfamiliar country lanes with a frost settling. I was relieved when we were all safely home.

      On Wednesday morning Alex took his overnight bag into school with him, as Rosemary would be collecting him that afternoon and taking him home. Adrian and Paula came with me to the school office that morning, as I wanted to check that the school knew of the arrangements. They did, and the school secretary suggested that Alex left his bag in the office for safekeeping. We said goodbye to him and that we would see him the next day, and he ran off happily to breakfast club. The secretary smiled.

      Shortly after I’d returned home from taking Adrian to school, Debbie, who had now finished the court case she’d been attending, telephoned for an update. I said that everything was still going well. She confirmed that Rosemary would collect Alex from school again on Friday, when he would spend the weekend at his new home, and then I would collect him on Sunday afternoon. Sunday night would be his last with us, as he moved on Monday. Debbie said she’d spoken to the Head of Alex’s school, so his teacher was aware of these arrangements and that Alex would be having Monday off. She thanked me for all I was doing and said to phone if I needed anything.

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