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

‘Yes. I think so.’

‘Is there anything he needs?’

‘No. Well, apart from his new parents. He’s so looking forward to meeting them.’

‘I know. Bring your diary with you on Wednesday. We’ll be planning the introductions and the move. It’s a good match. His adoptive parents already have the experience of bringing up their son, so Alex will have a sibling.’

‘Great. How old is he?’

‘Nine. Two years older than Alex. He can’t wait to have a brother.’

‘Fantastic. I do so like happy endings.’

‘So do I, Cathy, so do I.’

The morning flew by and it wasn’t long before I was collecting Paula from nursery. While I was there I took the opportunity to ask Kay, a good friend of mine who had children of a similar age to Adrian and Paula, if she could collect Paula from nursery on Wednesday, as I had to go to a meeting at the social services. She knew I fostered and said straight away that she could. ‘I’ll give the girls lunch and I can also collect Adrian if you’re not back in time,’ she offered.

‘Thanks, Kay, that’s kind of you, although the meeting should finish long before the end of school.’ But it was reassuring to have that safety net. Kay knew a little of what was involved in fostering and we’d helped each other out in the past. She’d been very supportive when my husband had left me and I greatly valued her friendship, as I hoped she did mine. As a foster carer it’s essential to have a good support network of friends and relatives who can be relied upon to help out if necessary, just as it is in everyday life. We left the nursery together and then went our separate ways. Paula was delighted she was going to play with her friend on Wednesday. I would need to inform the nursery of the arrangement, in line with their ‘keeping children safe’ policy.

I find the days fly by, especially during term time with the nursery and school runs. I’d also started working part time, mainly from home – administration work for a small local firm – and I did the work in the evenings or when Paula was at nursery.

After lunch I played with Paula and then read her some stories. Before long it was time to put on our coats and shoes to collect Alex from school. That morning, when I’d taken him, I’d arranged to meet him at a specific place in the playground – over to the right – so he could easily find me. It’s difficult enough for a child to be met from school by a foster carer – the other kids know they’re in care – so it helps them if they can go straight to the carer and not have to search a sea of faces for a half-familiar outline.

Alex spotted me and Paula straight away as soon as his class came out, and his teacher came with him to introduce herself and confirm who I was. Foster carers have identity cards they can show if necessary. She said that Alex had had a good day and had some spelling and reading homework in his bag, and then, wishing us a pleasant evening, went to talk to another parent.

Alex seemed happy and relaxed, and in the car on the way home he talked sweetly to Paula, asking her what she’d been doing while he’d been in school. Not all children know how to talk to little ones, but I guessed he’d had to fit in with so many different families (with different-aged children) that he knew how to interact with younger as well as older children. It was nice to see, and Paula appreciated it.

We arrived in Adrian’s playground just as the klaxon was sounding and I stood in my usual spot with the other mothers. Adrian came out and ran over to us and I asked him as I normally did if he’d had a good day. He said he had, but that he had maths homework to do. I suggested to the boys that they did their homework as soon as we were home so that it was out of the way. This was what Adrian usually did and Alex said he’d done the same at his previous foster carers’. I guess most families have a similar routine.

Once home I made the children a drink and then Adrian and Alex fetched their school bags and settled at the table to do their homework. Seeing the boys working, Paula wanted to do some homework too, so I gave her a sheet of paper, wrote her name at the top in big letters and asked her to copy them beneath and then draw a picture. I’d begun teaching her the letters in her name and it was good practice holding a pencil. Once she’d finished she left the table and watched some pre-school television until the boys had finished.

After dinner all three children played nicely together in the living room, sharing their toys, until it was time for Paula’s bath and bedtime. I left the boys playing while I took her upstairs and once she was settled I brought Alex up and then Adrian. I usually put the children to bed in age-ascending order – it seemed fair that way and worked well – so the youngest went first and the eldest last, although Alex was only six months younger than Adrian. Alex chose his soft toy giraffe to take into bed with him, and as I said goodnight he asked me, ‘Do you know when I’ll see my new mummy and daddy?’

‘I’ll know on Wednesday,’ I said. ‘I have to go to a very special meeting. Your new mummy and daddy will be there, so will your social worker. We will all have our diaries so we can write in the important dates: the days when you will meet your parents and get to know them, and then the most important date of all – when you move in.’ This was life-changing for Alex, so it was essential I maintained the momentum of excited expectation that would have been started by Graham, Sandy and Debbie when they’d talked to him about being adopted and his new parents. I was also genuinely pleased for him. He’d waited a long time for a family of his own and finally it was happening.

Alex smiled broadly and clasped his giraffe in joy. ‘Not long now!’ he said, his eyes sparkling.

‘Not long at all. Do you have any questions?’

He thought for a moment. ‘Not really a question, but can you tell my new mummy and daddy that I’m so happy and I love them already.’

‘I will.’

Alex said similar things to me the next evening – Tuesday – when I saw him into bed. ‘Not long now!’ he said excitedly. And he gave the soft toy elephant he’d chosen for the night a big squeeze.

‘Not long,’ I agreed. ‘The meeting is tomorrow. Any questions?’

‘Will you tell my mummy and daddy that I’m very happy and I can’t wait to be their son?’

‘I will,’ I said, tears pricking the backs of my eyes. ‘I’ll make sure of it.’

On Wednesday morning Alex told us all individually that I was going to a very important meeting today where I would meet his new mummy and daddy and write important dates in my diary. Then in the car as I drove to take him to school he told us all again collectively that I was going to meet his new mummy and daddy.

‘I know, that’s great,’ Adrian said.

But later, after I’d seen Alex into breakfast club and Adrian, Paula and I were in the car again, Adrian said, ‘Can we still see Alex once he’s moved? He’s my friend.’

‘I hope so, but it will depend on his new parents.’

‘If they’re nice, they’ll let us see him, won’t they?’ Adrian asked.

‘Yes, but remember he will only have been with us a few weeks when he leaves, so they might feel it isn’t worth it.’ Harsh, but in my experience true, and it was something the children of foster carers had to accept, difficult though it was.

I saw Adrian into school, and then Paula into the nursery. I checked with Kay that she was still able to collect Paula at lunchtime and then I informed the nursery staff of the arrangement. Having thanked Kay, I kissed Paula goodbye and returned home, where I changed out of my jeans and into a smart skirt and jumper, ready for the meeting at eleven o’clock. I slipped on my coat and with my diary in my handbag I left the house and drove to the council offices, arriving with ten minutes to spare. I signed in at the reception desk and then sat in the waiting area until Jill arrived. My stomach had started to jitter with pre-important-meeting nerves, and by the time Jill appeared it was churning.

‘All set?’ she said, with her usual welcoming smile.

‘Yes, ready to go.’

She signed in at reception and also checked which room the meeting was being held in. ‘So how has Alex been?’ she asked as we made our way up the spiral staircase to the first floor.

‘Really good. No problem. He’s a lovely boy and is so excited about having a mummy and daddy of his own.’

‘Great. He deserves it. And from what Debbie has told me this sounds an excellent match.’

‘Good.’

We arrived outside the room, Jill gave a perfunctory knock on the door, pushed it open and stepped in. ‘Hello, I’m Jill, Cathy’s support social worker.’ I followed her in. ‘And this is Cathy, Alex’s foster carer.’

‘Hello,’ I said, smiling at the four people grouped around the table. Jill and I took the two free chairs.

‘I’m Debbie,’ Alex’s social worker said to me. ‘We’ve spoken on the phone.’

‘Yes, hello.’ Normally I would have met the child’s social worker by now, but the move had happened quickly and at the weekend, so this was the first opportunity. Debbie turned to the others at the table. ‘Would you like to introduce yourselves now everyone is here.’

It was obvious they knew each other, so this was for Jill’s and my benefit. ‘I’m Lin from the Adoption and Permanency Team,’ the woman beside Debbie said.

Jill and I both smiled and said hello. Lin would be the social worker who had matched Alex with his adoptive parents and given them his background details, and would now see them through the adoption process, when her role would end.

‘I’m Rosemary, soon to be Alex’s mother,’ the woman on Lin’s left said confidently and without being asked. ‘And this is my husband.’ She looked to the man seated beside her.

‘Good morning. I’m Edward, soon to be Alex’s father,’ he said with a disarmingly charming smile.

Clearly a very confident couple, well spoken and smartly dressed, who I guessed to be about aged forty. Edward was wearing a light-grey tailored suit with an open-neck shirt, and Rosemary a sophisticated slim-fitting long-sleeve cream dress. We smiled and said hello.

‘Great. Let’s begin then,’ Debbie said with a big grin. ‘We all know why we’re here, and I see everyone has brought their diaries. I do so love these adoption planning meetings.’ We all agreed. Each of us was sitting ready with a diary and pen in front of us and the atmosphere was light and gay. Unlike some meetings I’d attended in respect of the children I fostered, this was a joyous occasion – planning Alex’s move to his forever family. ‘Lin will take a few notes,’ Debbie said, ‘but before we begin, does anyone have any questions?’

Edward cleared his throat to speak. ‘My wife and I were talking on the way here in the car and we think it would be useful if Cathy could tell us how Alex has been with her since the move. It will give us an idea of what to expect.’