Nobody’s Son: Part 1 of 3: All Alex ever wanted was a family of his own

I led the way through to our kitchen-cum-diner.

‘That’s my place,’ Adrian said, pointing to his chair at the table. ‘You can sit next me if you like. Can’t he, Mum?’

‘Yes, of course,’ I said.

‘That’ll be nice, won’t it?’ Graham said encouragingly.

Alex nodded again.

Toscha had followed us out and Paula bent down to stroke her. Alex did likewise. ‘I like your doll,’ he said shyly to Paula.

She smiled equally shyly. ‘I like your car.’

Great first step, I thought: all three children were talking to each other and Alex was starting to relax a little. I continued the tour downstairs into the front room and then upstairs. Alex wasn’t really interested in the other bedrooms or the bathroom – what seven-year-old boy would be? – but it was important that he saw them, as he would be able take away an image of the inside of our house so it wouldn’t feel so strange when he moved in tomorrow. However, when we went into his bedroom he looked lost and bewildered. I’d made it as homely as I could, with posters of action heroes on the walls and a Batman duvet cover on the bed, but it still looked rather empty compared to the other rooms.

‘It will be much better once you have all your things in here,’ I told Alex.

‘We’ll pack everything when we get home, mate,’ Graham said to Alex. Then to me, ‘We bought him a bike for Christmas; have you got a shed it can go in?’

‘Yes.’ Alex looked anxious. ‘Don’t worry,’ I said to him. ‘We have room for all your belongings. Nothing will get left behind.’ It is often an anxiety for children who come into care or those who’ve had a number of moves that their possessions will be lost or left behind. And of course in a month’s time we’d be packing up all Alex’s possessions again and moving him to his permanent home. From what I’d seen of Alex so far he was coping with all of this very well.

‘Do you like your room?’ Graham asked him.

Alex gave a small nod.

‘Good, and remember Adrian’s room is just next door,’ I said.

We’d seen the other rooms upstairs, so Graham led the way out of Alex’s room and downstairs. He didn’t return to the living room; instead he stopped at the coat stand and unhooked Alex’s coat. ‘Get your trainers on then, mate,’ he said. ‘You’ll see Cathy again tomorrow.’

I appreciated Graham wanted to get back to his wife and pack. ‘We’ll see you in the morning,’ I said to Alex with an encouraging smile.

He nodded.

‘At eleven o’clock,’ Graham said to me. ‘Is that what you were told?’

‘Yes.’

Alex had put on his trainers and Graham passed him his coat. ‘Will I still be able to go to my old school?’ he quietly asked Graham.

‘I think so, mate,’ he replied.

‘Yes, you will,’ I confirmed. ‘I’ll take you there in my car. You go to breakfast club so we’ll take you there first and then Adrian to his school and Paula to nursery.’

Alex looked relieved and managed another small smile. School is often the only constant factor in a foster child’s life if they have to move home; it’s familiar, safe and reliable, so it’s important that they remain at the same school if at all possible. There was a chance that Alex would have to change schools when he went to his adoptive parents, as the matching process – children with prospective parents – stretches across the country, but if so that would be unavoidable, and it would be the last move he’d have to make.

‘See you tomorrow then,’ Graham said as they headed down the front path.

We watched them go and then I closed the front door.

‘I like Alex, he’s nice,’ Adrian said.

‘I like him too,’ Paula agreed.

‘He’s a lovely little boy, but remember he’ll only be staying with us for a few weeks,’ I cautioned, as much for my benefit as the children’s. I knew how easily we became attached to the children we looked after, especially a child like Alex, unassuming and vulnerable. You felt like you wanted to give him a big hug and never let him go, but he’d only be with us a short while.

We played some card and board games that afternoon and then in the evening, after dinner, the three of us watched some television. The house phone rang at six o’clock and I was slightly surprised to hear John, their father. He usually telephoned on a Sunday evening, but he quickly explained that he was away for a few days so he was phoning now while he had the chance, as he didn’t like to let the children down. I bit back the retort at the tip of my tongue about letting the children down in a much bigger way and passed the handset to Adrian, who usually spoke to him first. Adrian told him about school and football and what he’d been doing generally – a life that John had once been part of and familiar with but now needed to be told about. When Adrian had finished his news he passed the phone to Paula who, not understanding about divorce, asked as she had done before, ‘When are you coming home, Daddy?’ It stung my heart now as it always did.

‘He’s not,’ Adrian said under his breath.

‘It’s OK,’ I said quietly to him. Then to Paula I said, ‘Daddy is coming to see you next Sunday.’

John must have said something similar for she repeated, ‘Seeing Daddy next weekend.’ Then, satisfied that she’d spoken to him, she said, ‘Goodbye, Daddy,’ and passed the phone to Adrian to say goodbye and hang up.

John would now return to his life as we returned to ours, and while it was getting a little easier for us to accept, I would never understand how a father could leave his family for another woman. Had John’s life with me really been so bad? He’d admitted once that it hadn’t, that it was just one of those things, beyond his control, that he’d fallen in love with another woman. As though it wasn’t his fault!

Chapter Two

Unsettled Early Life (#u3d57aa7b-c301-5d4d-8761-fc59c460a3bc)

The following morning Adrian was up earlier than usual for a Sunday, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Alex. We’d had our Sunday-morning fry-up for breakfast and I’d cleared up so that I was ready to give Alex my full attention. It’s always strange when a new child first arrives – for us as well as the child – as we all adjust to each other’s likes and dislikes, habits and mannerisms, but by the end of a few days we’re all usually jogging along together in our new routine.

The front doorbell rang a little after eleven o’clock and the children came with me to answer it.

‘I’ll play with Alex while you help Mum unpack,’ Adrian told Paula.

‘I want to play too,’ Paula said with a whine.

‘You can both play with him,’ I said diplomatically.

As I opened the front door the cold January air rushed in. Alex and Graham stood side by side in the porch, loaded with bags. ‘Good morning,’ Graham said cheerfully. ‘I’ll bring these in and then unpack the rest of the car.’

I held the door wide open so Graham could manoeuvre in the two large suitcases he was carrying. ‘Are they all right there?’ he asked, setting them down to one side of the hall.

‘Yes, fine. I’ll sort them all out later.’

‘That case has Alex’s school uniform in and his winter clothes,’ he said, tapping one. ‘You may not need to unpack the other. It’s his summer gear.’

‘OK, thanks.’

Alex, holding his school bag and a carrier bag of toys, with a bulging rucksack on his back, was now standing in the hall looking very lost.

‘Here, let me help you with that,’ I said, and eased the rucksack off his back.

‘You stay here with Cathy,’ Graham told Alex, ‘while I unload the rest of the car.’

Adrian took the bags Alex was holding from him so he could take off his coat. The poor lad looked even more bewildered now than he had done yesterday. ‘Are you OK, love?’ I asked him as he stood immobile, making no attempt to take off his coat or trainers. He nodded. ‘You’ll soon feel at home,’ I reassured him with a smile.

‘Is this my new home?’ he asked.