Nobody’s Son: All Alex ever wanted was a family of his own. Cathy Glass
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Название: Nobody’s Son: All Alex ever wanted was a family of his own
Автор: Cathy Glass
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Биографии и Мемуары
isbn: 9780008187576
isbn:
I turned the pages and scanned down the copy of Alex’s school report – he was making good progress – then the medical and health checks, a copy of the court order that had brought him into care and miscellaneous paper work. Going further back I found a copy of the minutes of the previous review, from which I learned that Alex had had supervised contact once a week with his mother at the contact centre, but it had been stopped (three months ago) in preparation for Alex being adopted. While this was usual practice for a child who was going to be adopted – to sever any existing bond with his birth family before introducing him to his adoptive parents – it stung my heart as it always did. I could picture that traumatic and distressing scene as Alex’s mother said goodbye to her son for the very last time and then had to watch him walk away, never to see him again. While I appreciated that everything would have been done to try to enable his mother to keep Alex, and that the judge would not have made the order without very good reason, it was nevertheless still heartbreaking. How any mother ever comes to terms with losing her child or children I’ll never know. Possibly many don’t and are never able to rebuild their lives and move on. It made me go cold just thinking about it. Losing a child for any reason is truly the stuff of nightmares.
I continued turning the pages – more reviews and school reports. Alex had been in care a long time, so there was a lot of paperwork. Then nearer the back I found the essential information form, which included a résumé of Alex’s early life and the circumstances that had brought him into care. I read that he had been badly neglected as a baby. His mother had mental-health problems and was drug dependent. Alex had never known his father – little wonder he was so looking forward to meeting his adoptive father, I thought. Alex had been in and out of care for the first three years of his life and had remained in care since then, but that wasn’t the end of his unsettled life, for since being in care permanently he’d had to move home a number of times. I couldn’t find the exact number or the reasons for the moves, but the foster carers’ names on the minutes of the reviews kept changing, and reference was made at the review to the most recent move. Sometimes children in care have to move and it’s unavoidable – for example, a child with very challenging behaviour may be placed with inexperienced carers who simply can’t cope – but Alex didn’t have challenging behaviour as far as I knew.
Since publishing my fostering memoirs I’ve received many emails from young adults who were in care and had repeated moves. Some have lost count of the number of different foster homes they lived in, and are now trying to deal with the fallout of such an unsettled childhood: insecurity, anger, panic attacks, depression, irrational fears, lack of confidence and low self-worth are a few of the issues. True, some care leavers email me to say their experience in care was a very good one and they’re grateful to their carers who loved and looked after them as their own, but not all. In a developed society like ours, which prides itself on being caring, we tend to think that if a child can’t live with their natural parents then our social-care system will step in and look after them, giving them the love, care and security that their parents failed to, but sadly sometimes they are failed by the care system too. And to make matters worse for little Alex, I now read that he’d been born in prison and had spent the first six months of his life there while his mother completed her sentence. It didn’t say what crime she had committed. It was all so very sad.
Chapter Three
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 СКАЧАТЬ