Can I Let You Go?: A heartbreaking true story of love, loss and moving on

‘Good. I’ll take her shopping for some new outfits then,’ I said. ‘See you on Tuesday. Would you like Faye to telephone you this evening?’

‘Only if she wants to,’ Stan said. ‘She sees more than enough of us.’

I smiled. ‘But do phone us if you want to chat. You have my phone numbers?’

‘Yes, Becky gave them to us,’ Wilma confirmed.

We all said goodbye, and Wilma stayed where she was on the sofa while Stan came with us.

‘Faye, aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?’ Wilma called after her.

Faye stopped in the hall, looked at us and chuckled. ‘Oh dear,’ she said, clamping her hand over her mouth. ‘I nearly forgot!’

The girls and I laughed too, while Stan tutted fondly. Faye clearly had a sense of humour and now that she was more relaxed around us it was starting to come out.

‘She’d forget her head if it wasn’t screwed on,’ Stan said affectionately as Faye returned to the living room to kiss her gran goodbye. ‘But she’s a good, kind kid. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. We’re going to miss her.’

‘I’m sure you will,’ I said. ‘But it’s not for long and I’ll look after her.’

‘Thank you,’ he said gratefully. I thought that Stan felt a lot more than he showed.

Faye returned from the living room and hugged her grandpa goodbye. ‘Look after yourself and enjoy your time at Cathy’s,’ he said to her.

‘I’m going on holiday,’ she replied happily. ‘Say goodbye to Snuggles, Grandpa.’

‘Bye, Snuggles. Behave yourself,’ Stan said. It was lovely the way he accepted her for who she was.

Leaning on his stick for support, he opened the front door and then took a couple of steps out of the flat. He stood in the corridor and watched us walk to the elevator, then called goodbye and returned indoors. It was clearly an effort for him to walk and his left side was still weak from the stroke.

‘Is your house a long way away?’ Faye asked as we waited for the elevator.

‘No, not far. About a twenty-minute drive,’ I said. I’d mentioned this at my previous visit, but she must have forgotten or not understood.

‘I have a watch!’ she announced and drew up her left sleeve so we could see her wrist watch.

‘Excellent,’ I said. ‘That’s good. I can show you how long it is to my house.’ It’s so much easier to explain time with the aid of an analogue watch or clock. I always make sure the children I foster have one.

‘Which is the minute hand, do you know?’ I asked her.

‘Yes, the big hand,’ she said.

‘That’s right. It’s pointing to five now so in twenty minutes it will be there, on the nine. Do you know what the time will be then?’

She studied her watch for a moment and then said, ‘Quarter to three.’

‘Well done. So twenty minutes isn’t long; it’s from there to there,’ I said, showing her on the watch.

‘It’s not long,’ she told Lucy and Paula, and they smiled.

The elevator doors opened and we got in. ‘The lift smells,’ Faye announced, sniffing the air.

‘Yes, it’s disinfectant,’ I said. ‘I think it’s just been cleaned.’

‘Gran says some naughty people use it as a toilet late at night,’ Faye said.

‘Urgh gross!’ Lucy exclaimed, horrified, and peered down at the floor.

Faye looked bemused and a little alarmed at Lucy’s outburst. ‘What does gross mean?’ she asked me.

‘Dirty, not nice,’ I said.

As the elevator descended I saw Faye eyeing Lucy and Paula curiously and I wondered how much contact she normally had with young people. From what I’d learnt so far she seemed to spend most of her time with her grandparents, apart from two days a week when she went to the stables and the day centre. The elevator stopped, the doors opened and a middle-aged couple who knew Faye were waiting for the elevator. They smiled and said hello to her.

‘I’m going away but I’m coming back,’ she told them.

‘I know,’ the woman said kindly. ‘Your gran said. See you soon.’

We crossed to the car where Lucy and Paula loaded Faye’s suitcase and shoulder bag into the boot. I asked Faye if she would like to sit with me in the front, or in the rear. She wanted to sit in the rear so Paula sat with her, as it was Lucy’s turn to sit in the passenger seat. Despite their ages, my children still coveted the front seat, just as they had done when they were younger, and took turns to sit there, unless Adrian was with us, when it was his seat, as he needed the extra leg-room.

‘Five minutes has passed,’ Faye announced, looking at her watch as I started the engine.

‘Twenty minutes was only an estimate,’ I said, glancing at her in the rear-view mirror. ‘It has taken us five minutes to come down in the elevator and get in the car.’

‘Our home is twenty minutes from now,’ Paula said. ‘So we’ll arrive at about ten minutes to three.’

Faye studied her watch and then looked out of her side window. There was a silence for a while and then Lucy asked Faye, ‘What sort of things do you like to do in your spare time?’

‘Watch television,’ Faye said.

‘Me too,’ Lucy agreed. ‘What programmes do you like?’

‘I like Coronation Street, EastEnders and Emmerdale, the same as Gran.’

‘You’re in good company then,’ I said. ‘Lucy loves the soaps.’

Lucy then talked to Faye about what was happening in these series, and Paula and Faye joined in. Paula watched soaps sometimes, but not as much as Lucy, who updated herself from the internet if she missed an episode. I’m not a great soap fan.

After a while I said, ‘Faye likes being at the stables too.’

‘I love the horses,’ Faye said. ‘More than I love Gary in EastEnders.’ Which made us all laugh.

‘So what do you do at the stables?’ Paula asked. ‘Do you ride the horses?’

‘Sometimes, but I also help muck them out.’

‘Yuck, what does that mean?’ Lucy asked. Considering she worked with children, she was rather delicate in these matters.

‘It means we have to shovel up their poo and put it in a wheelbarrow,’ Faye said.