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

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      ‘My bike’s got more wheels,’ Paula said, referring to the stabilizers.

      ‘Otherwise she falls off,’ Adrian said with a giggle to Alex.

      ‘Your bike had stabilizers too when you were very little and were learning to ride,’ I reminded Adrian. ‘I expect Alex used them as well. Many children do.’

      We returned indoors and the children continued playing in the living room and sharing their toys nicely. At present, playing together and discovering each other’s toys was a novelty, but I knew it was quite possible that after a while the novelty might wear off and squabbles could break out, just as in any sibling or friendship group. Experience had taught me that this was more likely with similar-aged children of the same sex, as Alex and Adrian were. They were either inseparable and best buddies or arguing over the same toy. Generally, if there is a choice of carers then foster children are placed with carers where there aren’t already children of the same age, especially if they are staying long term. But often there isn’t a choice, as there is always a shortage of foster carers, and as this wasn’t long term I didn’t envisage too many problems.

      The rest of the afternoon passed happily, and when I called everyone to dinner Alex went straight to his place at the table, far more relaxed and confident, as indeed Adrian and Paula were; everyone was thawing out. We talked as we ate and it was only natural that at some point Alex was going to mention his adoptive family, whom he had been told a bit about and was looking forward to meeting for the first time.

      ‘I’m going to have a forever mummy and daddy,’ he said. ‘I used to just have a mummy, but she can’t look after me.’ I nodded. ‘Graham says my daddy will do lots of things with me, like playing football. Do you have a daddy?’ he asked Adrian.

      I saw Adrian’s face fall. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly.

      ‘But he doesn’t live with us,’ I added, saving Adrian the embarrassment of having to say it.

      ‘Daddy takes us out and buys us sweets,’ Paula put in.

      ‘That’s nice,’ Alex said, and began talking about the sweets he’d had for Christmas. Although Alex’s question was entirely innocent, I knew Adrian struggled at moments like this. It had taken him months to admit to his best friend that his father wasn’t living with us any more, and many of his friends at school still didn’t know. Adrian perceived a stigma where others did not, and while it greatly saddened me that he had been placed in this position, there was nothing I could do about it beyond supporting him as he adjusted to having an absent father, as many children now have to do.

      After dinner I checked I had everything ready for the following morning. Alex’s school bag was in the hall beside Adrian’s, his school coat was on the hall stand with our coats, and his school shoes were paired beneath the stand with our shoes. Alex had school dinners, as did Adrian, so I didn’t have to make any packed lunches. As we would need to rise early in the morning for our new school run I began the children’s bath and bedtime routine just before seven o’clock that Sunday. I read Paula some stories and then, leaving the boys playing, I took her up for her bath and settled her into bed with her favourite cuddly – a velvety soft furry rabbit, which her father had bought as one of her Christmas presents.

      I returned downstairs for Alex. He was used to a similar bath and bedtime routine at his previous foster carers’. ‘What shall I do with all my toys?’ he asked. They were strewn across the living-room floor and Adrian had begun to pack his away into the new toy boxes.

      ‘I have just what you need,’ I said with a smile, and I brought in the new toy boxes. ‘You can put your toys in these and then you’ll be able to take them with you when you leave us.’ Which is what I usually did so the children I fostered left me with their toys in boxes and their clothes neatly packed in cases. I only use plastic bags as a very last resort as I feel it’s degrading for a child to move home with their belongings in carrier bags and bin liners.

      Once the boys had packed away Alex said goodnight to Adrian and I took him upstairs, firstly to his bedroom to fetch his pyjamas. He liked the way I’d arranged his soft toys on his bed and shelf and the toys in the toy box.

      ‘Can I take that toy box with me as well?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes.’

      He was pleased. Plastic toy boxes aren’t expensive but the children love having their own, and of course they help to keep the rooms tidy. I showed him where I’d put his pyjamas and dressing gown and he carried them round to the bathroom, where I ran his bath to the right temperature. I pointed out the laundry basket where he could put his dirty clothes and then, to give him some privacy, I waited on the landing while he washed and dried himself. Once he was in his pyjamas I waited while he cleaned his teeth. I wouldn’t leave a child of his age to just get on with it, especially on their first night, although his self-care skills were very good. We returned round the landing to his bedroom, where I asked him, as I always do when a child first arrives, if he liked to sleep with his curtains open or closed. He said closed. Similarly I asked him if he slept with the light on or off. He said off, and with his bedroom door left open a little. Small details, but their familiarity and the comfort they give to the child help them settle in a strange room. I told Alex that I always left a night light on the landing so he could see where he was going if he needed the toilet, but to call out to me if he woke in the night, as I didn’t want him wandering around by himself. Before climbing into bed he chose one of his soft toys to sleep with – Simba from the Walt Disney film The Lion King. I asked him if that was his favourite, but he said he didn’t have a favourite and just chose a different one each night. Once he was snuggled beneath the duvet with Simba beside him, I said goodnight and then asked him if he’d like a kiss and a hug. He shook his head shyly.

      ‘It’s OK. You don’t have to,’ I said with a smile. I always ask the child, otherwise it’s an invasion of their personal space to suddenly be kissed or hugged by an adult if they’re not comfortable with it. Some children are very tactile and want hugs and kisses as soon as they arrive, while others wait until they know me better.

      ‘Sandy used to kiss me goodnight,’ Alex said quietly. ‘But I’ll wait for my proper mummy to do it.’ Which was very revealing. Alex had been close to his previous carers and felt their rejection. He wasn’t going to risk making an emotional investment in me straight away; he was saving it for his adoptive parents, whom he could rely on. ‘When will I meet her?’ he asked.

      ‘I’m not sure yet. I’ll know more when I’ve spoken to your social worker tomorrow.’

      He smiled wistfully, his little face peeping over the duvet. ‘I hope it’s soon.’

      ‘It shouldn’t be long.’ My heart went out to him. He was so looking forward to having a family of his own forever, which, of course, most of us take for granted.

      Having said goodnight I came out, leaving the door slightly open, and checked on Paula. She was fast asleep, on her side and cuddled up to her soft toy rabbit. I called Adrian up for his bath, and once he was in bed I lay propped beside him on the pillow and we had our usual bedtime chat before we hugged and kissed goodnight. I came out, closing his door as he preferred, and went downstairs. I took the folder Graham had given me from the front room, made a cup of tea and then settled on the sofa in the living room next to Toscha.

      With my tea within reach I opened the folder, which contained the information Graham and Sandy – as Alex’s carers – had received on Alex. On top was a handwritten note: ‘The planning meeting on Wednesday is at 11 a.m. at the council offices. Good luck. Sandy.’ I immediately fetched my diary and wrote in the time and СКАЧАТЬ