Nobody’s Son: Part 2 of 3: All Alex ever wanted was a family of his own

‘So am I.’

The introductions continued. Alex’s family telephoned on Wednesday evening and then took him out to dinner on Thursday. They went to a little bistro I suggested in our high street and had an enjoyable time. On Friday morning Jill and Lin telephoned for updates and I was able to tell them everything was going well and to plan. They were obviously pleased, although this was no more than they’d expected. Alex was ripe for a permanent family and this family was a good match for him. On Friday, following the timetable, I left Alex at his new home for two hours, where he had dinner, and I took Adrian and Paula for something to eat in the neighbouring town, as there wasn’t time to go home. We returned as arranged to collect Alex at 7.30 and Paula slept in the car on the way home while Alex told Adrian about his evening. I listened as I drove and it all seemed to be positive. He and James had played and then the family, including Edward, had eaten together – lasagne, which Alex had enjoyed. After dinner Alex had watched James do his violin practice, which he had to do every evening, but he said it sounded a bit ‘squeaky’.

Saturday was a really big day for Alex, as he was spending his first night at his new home, so I carefully packed his overnight bag. He wasn’t at all apprehensive and was looking forward to sleeping in his new bed. He chose his soft toy, Simba, to take with him, which he was happy to leave there for next time. As per the timetable we were due to arrive at about 11 a.m. Adrian and Paula came with me, but they understood that we wouldn’t stay for long. Alex wanted to show Adrian his bedroom, so we popped in for a quarter of an hour only and then said goodbye. With nothing planned for the afternoon I made an impromptu visit to my parents, who were surprised and pleased to see us. We stayed for tea.

On Sunday we woke to a very light covering of snow – pretty but not deep enough to do anything with other than make footprints. The children and I went out into the garden for a while after breakfast, then had to leave to collect Alex for eleven o’clock. By the time we arrived a wintry sun sat in a cloudless sky and the snow had melted. Churchwell, their village, surrounded by countryside, was idyllic – quintessentially English, as you would see on a picture postcard – but remote. There wasn’t even a village shop. Alex was tired and kept yawning, as he and James had stayed up late. Rosemary said she’d made it clear to them that this was a treat and once Alex had moved in they would be keeping to regular bedtimes, apart from weekends, when there was no school in the morning. We all said goodbye, I put Alex’s overnight bag in the boot of the car and his family waved us off. In the car Alex told us his dad and James were going cycling now the snow had gone and he was looking forward to going with them once he’d moved in – in a little over a week’s time.

‘Great,’ I said. ‘That sounds good. Did you remember to leave Simba on your bed?’

‘Yes, but I hid him under the covers. James doesn’t have soft toys. He’s says they’re for little boys.’

I glanced at him in the mirror. ‘Alex, there is no need to feel embarrassed about taking a toy to bed with you.’ He met my gaze but didn’t reply. ‘James was nice to you, wasn’t he?’

‘Yes. We had to play what he wanted all the time, but I didn’t mind.’

Alex was used to living with other children (from being in care) and therefore had experience of sharing and taking turns, while James had been an only child, so sharing, especially at home, could be a learning curve for him.

‘You don’t always have to play what James wants,’ I said, glancing at him again in the mirror. ‘Shall I mention it to your mum?’

‘No. I can tell her if I want,’ Alex said easily. ‘She’s nice. She said if I had any problems I should tell her. But it’s not a problem.’

‘OK. See how it goes then. But remember to tell her if there is anything at all worrying you.’ It was important that Alex knew he could confide in her if necessary.

‘Yes, I will,’ he said.

School for Alex the following week was just an irritating interruption in between the times he saw his family or spoke to them on the phone. They dominated his thoughts and conversation as he eagerly awaited the next time he could see or speak to them. And when he wasn’t talking about the next time he would see them he was reminiscing about the last time. On Monday the telephone conversation with his family was much easier and it flowed; he was talking to them for over half an hour. Then on Tuesday, straight after school, I took him to his new home for dinner. It was when I had to make a journey like this on a cold, dark evening that I really felt being a single parent. Had my husband still been living with us he would have most likely looked after Adrian and Paula so they could stay at home in the warm and have dinner rather than going out again. Thankfully, Adrian’s homework didn’t have to be given in the following day, and he was good enough not to complain about losing his evening. I think he appreciated there was little alternative.

While Alex was with his family I took Adrian and Paula to eat in the neighbouring town again, and then had to drive back along the poorly lit, unfamiliar country lanes with a frost settling. I was relieved when we were all safely home.

On Wednesday morning Alex took his overnight bag into school with him, as Rosemary would be collecting him that afternoon and taking him home. Adrian and Paula came with me to the school office that morning, as I wanted to check that the school knew of the arrangements. They did, and the school secretary suggested that Alex left his bag in the office for safekeeping. We said goodbye to him and that we would see him the next day, and he ran off happily to breakfast club. The secretary smiled.

Shortly after I’d returned home from taking Adrian to school, Debbie, who had now finished the court case she’d been attending, telephoned for an update. I said that everything was still going well. She confirmed that Rosemary would collect Alex from school again on Friday, when he would spend the weekend at his new home, and then I would collect him on Sunday afternoon. Sunday night would be his last with us, as he moved on Monday. Debbie said she’d spoken to the Head of Alex’s school, so his teacher was aware of these arrangements and that Alex would be having Monday off. She thanked me for all I was doing and said to phone if I needed anything.

With Rosemary collecting Alex from school that afternoon there was less rushing around for me as I just had Adrian to collect, although once home Alex’s absence was obvious. He hadn’t been with us for long but he was such a dear little chap and had fitted so easily into our family that it felt as if he had been with us for much longer. He would be dearly missed.

The following day, Thursday, when I collected Alex from school, he came out with his overnight bag and looked at me, slightly puzzled. ‘Where’s Mum?’ he asked.

‘She’s at her house. Did you think she was going to meet you?’ He nodded. ‘I know it’s a bit confusing, but not for much longer. You’re coming back with me tonight and then your mum will collect you tomorrow and every day after that.’

He smiled, and Paula, pleased to see him, threw her arms around him and gave him a big hug.

Jill telephoned shortly after we arrived home, having spoken to Debbie. She said they’d agreed that it would make sense if Rosemary stopped by my house on her way to collect Alex from school the following day (Friday) and took his overnight bag and also some of his other belongings, including his bike, so they didn’t have it all to move on Monday. It would also help Alex to feel more at home, as he was spending the whole weekend there. Debbie had cleared this with Rosemary and I said I’d have Alex’s belongings ready. Jill wished us a pleasant weekend, and once I’d finished talking to her I told Alex what was happening. He was very happy that his bike was going. ‘I’ll be able to ride it at the weekend,’ he said. And I felt guilty that he hadn’t had a chance to ride his bike while he’d been with me as I’d originally said, but we’d been so busy there really hadn’t been an opportunity.

When his family telephoned that evening much of his conversation with James was about riding their bikes and other things they were planning to do at the weekend: two boys on a big adventure. Edward wasn’t home from work, so just James and his mother spoke to Alex. Rosemary also spoke to me and confirmed she’d stop by around 2.30 p.m. the next day for some of Alex’s belongings.

The following morning Alex was beside himself with excitement at the thought of spending the whole weekend with his family and going for a bike ride. Adrian was looking a bit envious, so I told him that if the weather was good we would take his bike to the park.

‘Perhaps my dad could take me bike riding?’ Adrian said, which stung me as such comments always did.

‘You could ask him,’ I said. ‘Although he took his bike with him when he moved.’ When he went to live with his secretary, I thought but didn’t say. ‘You do other nice things when he takes you out,’ I added. ‘And when Paula is older the three of us could go bike riding.’ But I doubted this would make up for not going with his father.

We took Alex to school that morning, and as we said goodbye we wished him a nice weekend. The next time we would see him would be Sunday afternoon (before his move on Monday) and I was planning a special goodbye tea. When children have been with the same foster carer for some time it’s usual to give them a little goodbye party, but Alex had only been with me a few weeks and had never met my parents, brother or my friends, so it seemed more appropriate that it was just us. I would buy him a leaving present and card the following day and make his last evening with us special. Goodbyes are always difficult, but thankfully Alex, like many of the children I’d fostered, was leaving us to go to a loving forever home, so there was plenty to be happy about.

When Rosemary arrived that afternoon I had Alex’s cases, some of his toys – in the boxes – and his bike ready in the hall. Rosemary was surprised he had so much, especially when I said there was as much if not more again, which I would pack ready for Monday.

‘I always thought that foster children didn’t own many possessions,’ she said as we loaded her car. This was a mistake many people made and I explained to her that while this was sometimes true when a child first came into care, once they’d been in care a while they had as much as any other child – sometimes even more, as the carer made up for what they’d missed.

‘I see,’ Rosemary said. ‘I’ll have to explain that to James. I told him he’d have to let Alex have some of his toys, but really there’s no need.’

‘No, but it’s still nice to share.’

‘Oh yes, I’ve already told James that.’

Rosemary didn’t stay for a coffee, as she wanted to leave in plenty of time to collect Alex from school. Paula and I saw her off at the door and then I had to try to explain to Paula why Rosemary was taking Alex’s belongings: that she was his mummy now and Alex was happy he was going to live with his new family on Monday. But of course it was impossible for a small child to understand and she slipped her hand into mine and said, ‘My mummy.’

‘Yes, I’m your mummy forever and ever.’

Chapter Nine

Unwelcome News (#u2279974f-0bc4-5a37-b59a-a2dfccd42a3a)

‘Can’t I stay?’ Alex protested when I collected him on Sunday afternoon.

‘No, love, you have to go back with Cathy for just one more night,’ Rosemary said to him. ‘Then you come to stay with us.’

‘Forever,’ I added, smiling encouragingly at Alex. ‘I’m going to make us a special tea with jelly and ice cream, and we’ve bought you a present.’

‘A present!’ Rosemary exclaimed, helping Alex into his coat. ‘You can’t miss that. Enjoy your evening and we’ll see you tomorrow morning.’

She kissed the top of his head and Alex came with us, a little reluctantly, while Rosemary and James saw us off. Edward had gone out for a while. As I settled the children into their seats I saw that Adrian was looking a little hurt that Alex hadn’t wanted to come with us, and I threw him a reassuring smile. But of course it was a good sign that Alex had wanted to stay with his family, and confirmed that during the introductory period he had successfully transferred his affection and sense of where home was from us to them. By the time we arrived home Adrian was chatting happily to Alex and they were both looking forward to our party tea.

I’d hung balloons and streamers in the living room and had set the table ready with a colourful tablecloth, matching napkins and paper party cups. In our absence Toscha had managed to pull down one of the streamers and was playing with it, chasing it around the room, which made Alex laugh.

‘Do you think my mum will let me have a cat?’ he asked me.

‘I don’t know, you’d have to ask her. Not everyone likes pets.’

‘I’ll ask her tomorrow,’ he said.

I organized some party games that worked with just the few of us – hide and seek, hunt the thimble, sleeping lions, pass the parcel (in which I’d hidden a wrapped sweet between each layer of paper and a prize in the centre). Then I set the party food on the table: small sausage rolls, slices of pizza, little samosas, cheese straws, crisps and bowls of finely sliced cucumber and tomatoes, which we ate with fizzy lemonade. Once we’d had our fill of the savouries I brought out the individual jellies and ice cream, and a plate of chocolate biscuits and cupcakes. Then we gave Alex the presents we’d bought him and which I’d previously wrapped – boxed games of Guess Who?, Operation and draughts, which he’d enjoyed playing with us, together with a card signed by us all. There was also a good-luck card from my parents containing a five-pound note, even though they’d never met him, which was kind. There was a card from Jill sent on behalf of the agency wishing Alex luck in his new home. Once he’d finished admiring the cards and gifts, I packed them in one of his cases so they wouldn’t be forgotten. Then we settled in the living room to watch a children’s movie, popping to the table every so often to help ourselves to another biscuit or savoury. By the end of the evening most of the food had gone.

Although Alex didn’t have to be up for school the following morning – it was his moving day – Adrian had to be, so I took the children up to bed at a reasonable time; Paula first and then Alex and Adrian. Alex’s room was looking bare now with everything packed apart from his nightwear, one soft toy and a change of clothes for the morning.

‘This is my last night here,’ he said as, after a wash, he climbed into bed. ‘Will I remember it?’

‘You may,’ I said. ‘But I’ve taken a photograph of your room and put it in your Life Story Book, as well as some of us. It’s packed in one of the cases.’ Alex knew about his Life Story Book from being with other carers. It is a record of the child’s time with the carer and includes photographs and memorabilia – for example, cinema tickets, the child’s drawings and merit certificates from school – and is considered part of good fostering practice now. It’s an aide-memoire that the child takes with them to supplement their own memories so they can retain a sense of their past. Having to move around so much can blur memories, as they don’t have their birth parents to keep a treasure chest of memories alive.

‘Will my mum and dad put photographs in my book too?’ Alex asked.