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

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ ‘It had nothing to do with that, and he shouldn’t have laughed.’ Despite all my assurances, Alex was still clearly going through the conversations he’d had with Rosemary and Edward, dissecting them to see if he could find out what he had done wrong. ‘It was nothing you said or did,’ I said firmly, sitting beside him on the bed.

      ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘Yes. Positive. If you’d wanted to learn every musical instrument in the whole wide world it wouldn’t have made any difference. The reason you left was because Rosemary and Edward hadn’t thought enough about adoption and what it would mean to them and James. They should have done. It was a big mistake that they didn’t. But it was not your fault. You must understand that. Sometimes adults get it wrong, just as children do. We all make mistakes.’ I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. I was passionate in what I said – he had to believe me. I looked at him carefully. ‘But Alex, do you know what the biggest mistake of all would be?’ He shook his head. ‘If you continue to let this make you so unhappy. You need to try to let it go and look to the future. I think you could if you tried really hard. I will help you.’ Without replying, he picked up his soft-toy polar bear, climbed into bed and turned away, rejecting me.

      ‘Please think about what I’ve said.’ I tucked the duvet around his shoulders. ‘You need to get over this. It can’t stay with you forever.’ Although I knew that to what degree he did get over this would depend largely on what happened in his future. If the long-term carers he went to provided him with a stable, loving home and he became a permanent member of their family then there was a good chance he’d be able to leave behind the upset of his unsettled early life. But if the move to the next family didn’t work out and there was another move and possibly another one after that, then his experience with Rosemary and Edward would be compounded: another brick in a wall of unhappiness and rejection. I knew too many cases where a series of placement breakdowns (as they are called) had damaged a young person so much that they turned to drink and drugs and promiscuity in an attempt to block out the pain and convince themselves they were lovable. Hopefully that wouldn’t be Alex’s fate, but at present it was impossible to be sure, and if – heaven forbid – it was his future, then not only Alex’s mother and Rosemary and Edward, but every foster carer and social worker who had been part of Alex’s life would hold some responsibility.

      The adoption disruption meeting had been playing on my mind since Jill’s telephone call, and by Monday morning it was completely dominating my thoughts – or, more specifically, seeing Rosemary and Edward was. Debbie had said that the meeting wouldn’t be a witch hunt – they weren’t looking to blame someone – but that the department wanted to learn lessons. I thought this was very magnanimous of Debbie, as I was struggling not to blame Rosemary and Edward for all the grief they had caused – and were still causing – Alex. Each time he said something about them it hit me afresh. But I knew I needed to be professional when I met them. I had to concede that it was decent of them to attend the meeting at all, and that they hadn’t set out to reject and upset Alex, but must have been convinced they were doing the right thing in applying to adopt. Furthermore, I doubted that they had any idea just how devastated he was.

      I didn’t tell the children what the meeting was about, only that I had to go to a meeting and Nana and Grandpa would be looking after Paula, and they would see Adrian and Alex at the end of school. Paula and Adrian were pleased to be seeing their nana and grandpa again, while Alex just accepted the arrangement with the same resignation he accepted anything that involved him now.

      Although it was March, Tuesday morning was bitterly cold with a cruel northeasterly wind, so the children and I wrapped up warm to leave the house. I drove Alex to school first and then took Adrian to school before returning home with Paula. My parents arrived in plenty of time and I made us a coffee before I changed into my black trousers, smart jersey and best coat, ready for the meeting. Saying goodbye, I left and began the drive to the council offices, my feelings of trepidation increasing. I wasn’t altogether clear what my role would be at the adoption disruption meeting, but from what Jill had said my input was likely to be minimal: to answer some questions about Alex from the present foster carer’s point of view. I hadn’t brought any notes with me and intended to play it by ear. As I drove and my apprehension increased, I reminded myself that Rosemary and Edward must be feeling significantly worse, having to face all of us again.

      I parked the car in a side road close to the council offices and walked round to the front, where I met Jill on the way in.

      ‘Good timing,’ she quipped. ‘All ready?’

      ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

      We crossed to the reception desk and signed the visitor’s book. Jill asked which room we were in and we hung our one-day security passes around our necks. The room was on the second floor, next door to the one I’d been in previously for the adoption planning meeting. As we arrived outside, Jill took a deep breath. ‘Well, here goes,’ she said before knocking, which did nothing to allay my nerves. She opened the door and I followed her in. A sea of faces greeted us.

      I find you can gauge the atmosphere of a meeting as soon as you enter the room. In complete contrast to the adoption planning meeting, where Jill and I had been greeted by lively conversation and four smiling faces, now there was silence and sombre expressions. A dozen or more people around a large oblong wooden table sat upright and formal. Most had paperwork in front of them. I felt my anxiety level rise. I recognized Rosemary, Edward, Lin and Debbie, but no one else. The person in front of us moved along a seat so Jill and I could sit together.

      ‘Thank you,’ Jill said quietly as we sat down. I slipped off my coat, hung it over the back of my chair and tried to relax.

      After a moment the chairperson asked, ‘Are we expecting anyone else?’

      No one appeared to know.

      ‘If we could introduce ourselves, I’ll tick everyone off my list,’ she said. The chairperson would be an IRO not connected with the case. She was a mature woman, confident in her role, and with a calming, conciliatory manner designed to put everyone at ease. She squared a sheet of printed paper in front of her and looked to the person on her left to start the introductions.

      ‘Elaine C—, team manager, fostering and adoption,’ she said.

      The chairperson ticked off her name on the sheet and then looked at the next person, who was Debbie. ‘Debbie G—, social worker for Alex.’

      And so it continued: ‘Lin B—, adoption social worker for Alex.’

      ‘Lara M—, team manager.’

      ‘Shanice K—, social worker from the permanence team.’

      As the introductions continued the door opened and to my surprise Miss Cork walked in. ‘Sorry if I’m late,’ she said, a little flustered. ‘I was only told about the meeting this morning.’ She took one of the two remaining chairs and I threw her a reassuring smile.

      ‘Adele W—, social worker, looked-after children’s team,’ the next person at the table said.

      I glanced at Rosemary and Edward across the vast expanse of oak table, but there was nothing to be read in their expressions and they kept their gazes down. When it was their turn to introduce themselves they said only ‘Rosemary Andrews’ and ‘Edward Andrews’ without any reference to their role as Alex’s adoptive parents. Edward and a trainee social worker who was also taking minutes were the only males present.

      Next was the nurse for looked-after children, then another social worker and me. ‘Cathy Glass, Alex’s foster carer,’ I said, addressing the chairperson.

      ‘You СКАЧАТЬ