Название: Will You Love Me?: The story of my adopted daughter Lucy: Part 2 of 3
Автор: Cathy Glass
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Биографии и Мемуары
isbn: 9780007533190
isbn:
‘I think so, but I didn’t really understand.’
‘I know, love. There was too much going on. I’ll try and explain. Until recently, when you were in care it was under what’s called a Section 20, which is an agreement between your mum and the social services. It meant that your mum could take you out of care whenever she wanted to, which is one of the reasons you’ve had so many moves. That can’t happen now there is a court order. The social services will be applying for a Full Care Order, when the judge will make the decision on where you should live permanently: if you can live with your mother or if you would be better off in foster care permanently. But we won’t know the judge’s decision for many months, possibly a year, as they have to read lots of reports to make sure it’s the right decision.’ I stopped. ‘Does that make any sense to you, love?’
There was a long pause, which was hardly surprising; the workings of the care system are difficult enough for adults to grasp, let alone an eleven-year-old child.
When Lucy spoke again it brought tears to my eyes. ‘I don’t want to live with my mum,’ she said. ‘But I don’t want to have to keep moving. Other kids have proper homes and families who love them. I just want a family of my own.’
Chapter Eleven
I couldn’t lie to Lucy. I couldn’t tell her she would never have to move again, but I could tell her that eventually she would be found a permanent family of her own.
‘Lucy, from what I know of your history I think it’s highly unlikely the judge will decide you should live with your mother. So the social services will see if you have a relative who can look after you, and if not then they will find you a long-term foster family to suit you.’ I didn’t say ‘one that will match your cultural heritage’, although I knew that would be part of the criteria. Lucy was dual heritage, as her father was Thai, so the social services would want to find her a family that reflected this.
‘But all that will take many months,’ I said, ‘maybe up to a year, and you won’t have to move again during that time.’ It was the best I could offer to reassure Lucy and, bless her, it was enough.
‘So I won’t have to move again for a whole year?’ she said, her voice lightening a little.
‘That’s right, love. Only once the judge has made his or her decision will you move, and that will be to your forever family.’
‘That’s good,’ she said. ‘Will your cat be there when I come tomorrow?’
‘I’ll make sure of it, love.’
We said goodbye, but Lucy didn’t sever the call. I heard muffled sounds as she carried the handset downstairs and gave it to Pat, who I guessed was waiting for any news.
‘Hello,’ she said anxiously.
‘Is half past eleven tomorrow morning all right for you and your husband to move Lucy?’ I said.
‘Oh, yes, of course,’ Pat said, surprised. ‘Has Lucy agreed to come then?’
‘She has.’
‘How did you manage that?’
‘I think the cat did it,’ I said, with a small laugh. ‘So half past eleven is all right? I’d rather not leave it any later as the waiting will unsettle Lucy again.’
‘Yes, we’ll get going on the packing straight away.’
‘Good. And you may not know this but, when an older child moves, it’s usually best if the carers say goodbye and leave reasonably quickly, so I won’t be offering you coffee. I know it’s different when you move babies to permanency.’
‘Yes, it is. Thanks for telling me.’
‘You can phone Lucy in a week or so. That would be nice, and visit in a few weeks – once she’s had a chance to settle in.’
‘We will. See you tomorrow then. And thanks for all your help.’
‘You’re welcome. Enjoy your evening. You want to part on good terms.’
‘Yes, we’ll try.’
In truth, I hadn’t really done much to persuade Lucy to move other than use my skills and experience from years of fostering. Pat and her husband were used to fostering babies and had been out of their depth looking after an older child, which is why carers are approved and trained to foster a specific age group. I returned to the living room where Adrian and Paula were just finishing their game of draughts and told them the good news: that I’d spoken to Lucy and she would be coming tomorrow. ‘She’s looking forward to playing with you both,’ I added. ‘And we need to make sure Toscha is in.’
‘Why?’ Adrian asked, glancing up from the board. ‘What’s the cat done?’
Ignoring his stab at humour, I said, ‘Lucy’s very keen to see her.’
He threw me an old-fashioned look, took the last of Paula’s pieces from the board and, punching the air, shouted: ‘Winner!’
‘Well played,’ I said.
Paula scowled.
‘You played well too,’ I said diplomatically.
They packed away the game and then Adrian went off to play on his Nintendo, while I took Paula up for her bath and to get her ready for bed. It was Friday, so both children were up later than on a school night. Paula can sometimes be a real little chatterbox, especially at bedtime, and tonight all she could talk about was Lucy.
‘I’m very excited that Lucy’s coming,’ she said, flapping the water in the bath to make more bubbles. ‘What does she like to play?’
‘I’m not sure. You can ask her. I don’t think she knows many games, so you can teach her some.’
‘I will. And I’ll show her my toys and let her play with them, even my new Christmas toys. And if it snows, we can go in the garden and build a snowman. I hope it snows. I’m going to like playing with Lucy.’
While Paula was happily planning all she was going to do with Lucy, I was also thinking about Lucy, and, among other things, about the school run on Monday. Like most foster carers, I had to juggle my children’s commitments with the child or children I was fostering. Adrian, at thirteen, went to school with his friends, but I still took Paula, at age nine, to her primary school and collected her. Lucy’s school was a twenty-minute bus journey away, and although most secondary-school children use buses I wasn’t comfortable with her making an unfamiliar journey alone when she’d just moved in. Once I knew what time her school started, I was hoping I’d be able to work out something that would allow me to take both girls to school and collect them. When a new foster child first arrives, there’s always a period of readjustment and then, once the new routine is established, the household runs smoothly again.
The following morning – Saturday – I was up, showered and dressed earlier than usual for the weekend, and with a mixture of excitement and apprehension I double-checked that Lucy’s room was ready. Paula was up earlier than СКАЧАТЬ