The Boy No One Loved and Crying for Help 2-in-1 Collection. Casey Watson

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СКАЧАТЬ it was perfect for someone like my son. Mostly, of course, it meant lots of presents, which we still – at his request – put into a great big Christmas sack.

      We’d done one for Justin, too, who thundered down close behind Kieron, looking so much calmer and happier now the day itself was finally here. In some respects, they had quite a lot in common.

      I tried keeping some order on proceedings in the living room, but it was pointless. Since we’d had children big enough to create chaos, it always had been. ‘Check the tags, love,’ I urged Justin, as he ripped hell for leather into all the wrapping paper, ‘or you won’t have any idea who bought you what!’

      My words were falling on deaf ears, though; he was just way too excited to take heed of what I was saying, and I decided that since this was probably a really big deal for him, I wouldn’t spoil the moment by nagging. ‘Tell you what,’ I said, as I stooped to gather up all the discarded wrapping paper, ‘you’ll just have to say “thank you for my present” to everyone. That way you won’t go far wrong.’

      I was so touched by what an impressive haul he had, too. Everyone in my extended family had got him something, which they really didn’t have to do, bless them. I was particularly touched to see how much care Riley had taken. This was a child she’d not laid eyes on till half-way through December, not to mention the fact that she and David didn’t exactly have fortunes to splash around, yet she’d bought him such a lovely collection of toy soldiers, together with all the guns and grenades and other bits and bobs to go with them. I found myself smiling at this, too – we’d be having a job getting him out of the bath now.

      The floor of the lounge was by now a sea of presents and torn paper, and it was the rustling of this that made me turn to see Mike sloping out. I’d assumed he’d just gone out to turn over the bacon, but he returned with a present I’d not seen before. He handed it to a surprised-looking Justin.

      ‘You might need this,’ he said, grinning, and before I could even wonder, Justin had opened the package to find a DVD player inside. He whispered a shocked but clearly delighted ‘thank you’ to Mike, and the expression on his face – now rather red – was a picture. As, I’m sure, was the expression on mine.

      ‘Where on earth did that come from?’ I asked Mike once we were back alone in the kitchen, getting breakfast dished up.

      ‘I called our Angela last night, after you’d gone up to bed,’ he explained. Angela was his sister. ‘I just kept thinking we couldn’t have the lad with nothing to play his new DVDs on, could we? I mean, I know it’s important that he learns that actions have consequences, and I still think he should save up half the money for a new one. But, well, it’s Christmas Day, isn’t it? No harm in letting him have that one for the time being, is there?’

      ‘But how did it get here?’

      ‘She drove round with it. While you were spark out in bed.’

      I threw my arms around him. ‘Love, you are just wonderful,’ I said. ‘That’s such a thoughtful thing to have done.’

      ‘I was thinking about the rest of us as much as anything,’ he said ruefully. ‘He’s bound to be on edge, you know. Thinking about tomorrow and seeing his mum and brothers and everything. Be good for all of us if he has something to take his mind off it, I thought.’

      But as it turned out, Justin was anything but anxious on Boxing Day morning. Superficially, at least, he seemed really happy and excited. Perhaps I should have taken that in itself as an omen. Get over-excited about something in life and it’s odds on that you’ll be disappointed. And right now he was as bouncy as a rubber ball.

      ‘Mum wasn’t having her Christmas dinner yesterday,’ he told me brightly, as we fed him an early breakfast of cereal, toast and orange juice. It was only just gone seven, and I was feeling the hour. We’d all really gone to bed much too late. ‘She was saving it to have once I get there,’ he went on. ‘Bet my brothers were mad as hell about that!’

      Despite my being pleased to see him animated – he’d become more withdrawn and uncommunicative as Christmas Day had worn on, which I’d put down to the twin evils of anti-climax after the presents and anxiety about seeing his mum – I offered up a silent prayer that fate would be on his side and that he wouldn’t be disappointed. But the little I did know of his mother hardly filled me with optimism. He’d been in care since he was five. That spoke volumes in itself, let alone the fact that it had been a voluntary care order – she hadn’t fought to keep him. Had given him up willingly. And why only Justin in care? Why not the other two as well?

      ‘My social worker says she’s got loads and loads of stuff for me,’ he went on. ‘I bet I have an even better Christmas today, don’t you, Casey? I bet I will.’

      Justin had spoken with Harrison Green on the phone a couple of days back – a mandatory phone call made when a child is first fostered just to check the child is okay and that things are going well. It’s done in private, so the child can be honest if they’re not happy. I hoped that wasn’t the case with Justin, but who knew?

      I told him that, yes, he most probably would have a wonderful second Christmas Day, while at the same time cursing Harrison for passing on such unnecessary details and over-exciting him. Why do that? Why get his hopes up about things he didn’t actually know to be true? Especially when the history with Janice – that was his mother’s name, apparently – had clearly shown they might well be dashed.

      I waved them off, finally – it would be a long, boring six-hour drive there and back for Mike, bless him – and decided I should put it all out of my mind. Maybe his mother wasn’t as bad as we suspected. And there was no getting away from it: I needed a break. Had it really only been a week since Justin had moved in with us – less than two since we’d all first clapped eyes on him? In some ways it felt like a lifetime. He’d certainly turned all our lives upside down. But I knew it would be easier once the new school term started. That was when we’d settle into some sort of routine. In the meantime, I’d better shower and dress and get going, I realised. Me and Kieron were going to spend the day round at Riley and David’s. Mike would come there when he was back after dropping off Justin, and take me home a bit later for the blissful evening of relaxation we’d planned, just the two of us, in front of the TV. I couldn’t have looked forward to anything more keenly, I decided, as I happily skipped back upstairs to get ready.

      ‘Chinese or Indian?’ Mike wanted to know. ‘They’re both open. I’m feeling curry, myself – you?’

      ‘Don’t care,’ I called back to him as I plumped the sofa cushions, so we could sit down and watch yet another movie.

      It was coming up to seven now, and the two of us were downing tools for the evening. Mike had returned around 2.30 and come straight round to Riley’s, and we’d spent an enjoyable couple of hours there, just chatting about nothing; something which, like tonight, felt like a very distant luxury; one which I aimed to enjoy to the full.

      Kieron was now out – some sort of lads’ night on the tiles with a group of his college friends, and wouldn’t be back again tonight. He was loving college and we were so happy to see him fitting in so well there. He was really interested in becoming a professional DJ on the club circuits, so had decided to enrol on a media studies course. He was into his second term now and his tutor had said that he was making great progress. He’d also settled in socially and had made some solid friendships – he’d be sleeping over with one of his mates tonight, probably so we wouldn’t see what sort of state he’d be in.

      Mike filled me in on his first impressions of Justin’s mother when we got home. СКАЧАТЬ