A Baby’s Cry

by Cathy Glass

  ‘Harrison’s case is very straightforward,’ Jessica began. ‘Rihanna, Harrison’s mother, made the decision while she was expecting that she couldn’t keep her baby and that he should be adopted as soon as possible. Sad though this is, it has meant that the department has been able to start forward planning so that Harrison needn’t be kept in foster care any longer than is necessary.’ This wasn’t a slight on me but an acknowledgement that the sooner Harrison was bonding with his adoptive family the better it would be for him.

  ‘Harrison is in care under a Section 20,’ Jessica continued. ‘We have his mother’s full cooperation, and I would hope to have him settled with his adoptive parents within the year. Before we hear from Viera, who will give us an update on how our plans are progressing, Cathy, perhaps you would like to say a few words about Harrison – his routine and how he’s settled in with you. He’s obviously doing very well.’

  ‘Yes, he is,’ I said, while thinking, So you’re not saying anything about Harrison’s family or the secrecy surrounding his case? But it wasn’t for me to pry, so I began the update on Harrison. ‘Harrison has settled very well,’ I said. ‘I feed him on demand – every three to four hours during the day, and he wakes once at night: between two and three o’clock. He then sleeps until nearly six o’clock, which is good.’

  All three women nodded and Jessica wrote on her notepad.

  ‘I take Harrison to the clinic every week to be weighed and measured,’ I continued. ‘The results are entered in the red book, which I’ve brought with me.’ Dipping my hand into the baby bag I took out the red book and handed it to Jessica. She opened it, made a note of Harrison’s most recent weight and then sent the book round the table for the others to look at as I continued. ‘Harrison will start the baby immunization programme when he is two months old,’ I said. ‘The booster injections follow at three and four months of age. I see the health visitor at the clinic and she is happy with Harrison’s progress, as I am.’ I stopped, unable to think what else to say. When I foster older children, who often have special needs and behavioural problems, there is always plenty to say, but now it seemed I’d covered everything.

  ‘Thank you, Cathy,’ Jessica said, glancing up from writing. ‘Harrison’s certainly looking very healthy.’

  ‘And smart,’ Viera added. ‘I love his little romper suit.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I always dress him in the outfits his mother sent.’

  Viera looked puzzled.

  ‘Rihanna sent a suitcase full of clothes for his first year,’ Cheryl clarified, so I guessed Viera didn’t know.

  Jessica had finished writing and now looked at me. ‘And there’s been no more sightings of Mum in the street where you live?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘Not as far as I’m aware.’

  ‘We are not even sure it was Rihanna,’ Cheryl said. ‘I’m still waiting to hear back from her solicitor.’

  Jessica made a note and then said to me, ‘Of course you appreciate that under a Section 20, until Harrison is adopted Rihanna has a right to see her son, but we would obviously arrange contact rather than have her just arrive on your doorstep.’

  ‘Yes, I understand,’ I said.

  ‘Well, thank you, Cathy,’ Jessica said again. ‘Is there anything you wish to add?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Harrison is alert and doing everything a baby of his age should be doing. My family and I are enjoying looking after him.’

  Harrison gurgled his approval and everyone smiled.

  ‘Viera,’ Jessica said, turning to her, ‘could you give us your update please, on how your search for an adoptive family for Harrison is progressing?’

  Viera nodded and glanced at the top sheet of the file open on the table in front of her. ‘We’ve been very busy,’ she began. ‘We’ve had a lot of interest in Harrison, and we received over seventy applications to adopt him.’

  I let out a small gasp and Jill and Jessica raised their eyes in astonishment.

  ‘He’s a very popular young man,’ Viera continued. ‘We examined each application carefully and have now shortlisted five couples who seem to be the most suitable. Four of the couples are childless and the other couple has one adopted child who is six: they would like to adopt again so that their daughter has a sibling. All five couples are vetted and approved adopters, so we won’t be waiting for approval – you know how long the adoption process can take. These five are also partial matches for Harrison’s cultural identity. We knew we wouldn’t find an exact match because Harrison’s father is—’ Viera stopped and I knew she had been about to give away a detail that could have identified Harrison’s father. I assumed this detail was already known to Cheryl (as Harrison’s social worker) and Jessica (as acting team manager), but it clearly wasn’t to be disclosed to Jill or me.

  Viera quickly rephrased: ‘I am sure the adoption panel will consider any one of these couples a good match for Harrison. When I return from leave I shall meet all the couples in their homes and then write my recommendation.’

  ‘When will that be?’ Jessica asked, glancing up from note taking.

  ‘I’m on leave for the next two weeks,’ Viera said. ‘I shall begin visiting the couples on my return. I hope to have seen them all by the end of September, and my report should be ready by the end of October.’

  ‘So you’ll be able to go to the matching panel in November?’ Jessica asked. ‘Then the adoption panel in January? I don’t think they sit in December.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Viera confirmed. ‘Assuming the panel approves the adoption we can start the introduction of the lucky couple to Harrison straight after the panel meets, with a move in February.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Jessica said.

  ‘Cathy,’ Viera now said to me, ‘could you let me have some photographs of Harrison so that I can show the prospective adoptive couples when I visit them?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve taken plenty.’

  ‘Good. Also, could you complete these forms so that I can write up Harrison’s profile? The forms are used for children of all ages, so some of the questions won’t be entirely relevant, but if you could put something in each box, that would be good.’

  I took the forms Viera now passed across the table and slid them into the baby bag to look at later.

  ‘Is that everything?’ Jessica asked Viera.

  ‘Yes, I think so.’

  ‘Cheryl,’ Jessica now said, looking at Harrison’s social worker, ‘would you like to give us your update, please?’

  Cheryl moved slightly closer to the table, and Jill and I exchanged a glance, wondering if Cheryl would give any more details that might explain the mystery surrounding Harrison, but we didn’t wonder for long.

  ‘There isn’t much to say, really,’ Cheryl began. ‘As you know, all correspondence goes through Rihanna’s solicitor and we haven’t heard from her since Harrison came into care. Our legal department has sent the paperwork for the Section 20 to the solicitor; they’ll also send a copy of the minutes of this meeting when it becomes available. The search for an adoptive family for Harrison is going well, as we’ve just heard. I’m not expecting any problems, as we have Mum’s full cooperation and consent.’

  ‘And the LAC review?’ Jessica asked.

  ‘It’s due,’ Cheryl said. ‘Shall we arrange a date now?’

  ‘Yes, I think we should,’ Jessica said a little firmly.

  The LAC (Looked After Children) review is a legal requirement to make sure the care plan is appropriate and the child’s needs are being met. The first review has to be held four weeks after the child comes into care.

  ‘Can we make it next Wednesday?’ Cheryl asked, taking her diary from her bag and opening it.

  ‘I’m on leave,’ Viera said.

  ‘I can give your report,’ Cheryl said.

  ‘I can make next Wednesday,’ Jill said, and I agreed I could too.

  ‘We’re obliged to send an invitation to the review to Rihanna,’ Cheryl said to us all. ‘But she won’t a
ttend.’ Then, looking at me: ‘Cathy, on a Section 20, it is usual to have the review in the child’s home. Is that all right with you?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. I’d had review meetings in my house before, so I knew what to expect, and it would also save me having to find a sitter for Adrian and Paula as they would simply play in another room.

  ‘Shall we set the time for eleven o’clock?’ Jessica said, glancing up from minuting.

  ‘Fine with me,’ Cheryl and Jill agreed, and made a note in their diaries; while I said yes, and made a note in my head.

  ‘I won’t attend, but an independent chairperson will,’ Jessica added, which was normal procedure.

  There being no further business Jessica thanked us all for coming and the meeting ended as it had begun: with the four women fussing over Harrison, and Jill and me none the wiser as to why Harrison’s mother couldn’t keep him and why all the secrecy was necessary.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Woman in the Street

  CHILD’S PROFILE

  To be completed by the child’s main carer in black ink.

  Once the children were in bed I decided to tackle the forms Viera had given to me so that they wouldn’t get forgotten and I would have them ready to hand to Cheryl at the LAC review the following Wednesday. Using a black biro I filled in the first row of boxes, although I stumbled over ‘age’, uncertain if it meant Harrison’s age now or at the time of the adoption; I opted for now. The next questions were relatively straightforward too: How long have you known the child? Are there any other siblings in the family? Is the child normally healthy? Does the child have a registered disability? If so, for what? Is the child registered blind? Is the child registered as deaf or hearing impaired? These questions were largely single word Yes/No answers, and having completed them I turned to the next page. The first box was headed: Describe the child’s daily routine, which I did; it took me about fifteen minutes to choose the best words, for I knew the contents of this form would be sent to all the professionals connected with Harrison’s case and the prospective adoptive parents, so I wanted my description to be clear and well written.

  The question in the next box asked: Does the child have any special needs? If so, please describe what these are. I wrote None. The box below asked: Does the child have any behavioural difficulties? If so, describe what these are and the strategies you are using for dealing with them. I smiled at the thought of little Harrison with behavioural difficulties and again wrote: None. Turning the page, the first question was: Does the child have age-appropriate self-care skills – for example, can he wash and dress himself? Viera had said the form was for children of all ages and she had asked that I put something in each box, but many of the questions weren’t relevant at all. I thought it would have made more sense to have had two forms – one for infants and one for school-aged children. I decided to write N/A in the box – short for Not Applicable.

  The next box related to the one above and asked: If the child does not have age-appropriate self-care skills, what are you doing to teach them? The answer could have been Nothing, for even though Harrison was alert and intelligent I wouldn’t be teaching a baby how to wash and dress himself, so I wrote N/A again and then added: The child is a baby, to clarify. The questions continued with: Are the child’s language skills appropriate for the child’s age? I was tempted to write: Yes, because Harrison’s gurgles were age-appropriate, but I opted again for N/A – The child is a baby. The next question was: What does the child like to eat and drink? I wrote Formula milk. Then I laughed at the next two questions: What does the child like to do in his or her leisure time? And Does the child belong to any after school activities? I again entered N/A – The child is a baby in both the boxes and continued down the page.

  It wasn’t until I reached the final box on the last page that I had the opportunity to give a realistic appraisal of Harrison: Describe in your own words the child you are looking after. This was a large box, nearly half the page, and I carefully filled it in. I said that I’d collected Harrison from hospital when he was one day old and he had quickly settled into a routine (which I’d described in a previous question). I said he was a contented baby, alert, responsive and interested in all that was going on around him. I gave his current weight, and I described his physical appearance and also his little mannerisms which were so endearing – like the way he wrinkled his nose. As I finished filling in the last box I realized I knew Harrison as well as I knew my own children. I felt a stab of sadness as I acknowledged that at some point, in the not-too-distant future, Harrison would be leaving us for his adoptive family and would no longer be one of my family.

  I signed and dated the last page and then tucked the set of forms into my fostering folder, where I’d already put the photographs Viera had asked for. Viera would use the information I’d given on the forms together with the photographs when she compiled Harrison’s profile, which would be shown to the prospective adopters and members of the matching and adoption panels. I wondered what the prospective adoptive parents were like. The adoption team had certainly had a huge response and I knew it was because Harrison was a healthy baby. Had he been an older child or a child with special needs the response would have been very different; often such children are never adopted and stay in foster care until they are eighteen, when they come out of care and are essentially on their own, which is very sad.

  The following day, armed with the baby bag, buckets and spades, swimming costumes and towels, we went to the seaside for the day. The nearest coast was about seventy miles from my house, and in high summer it was a popular destination. The road to the coast was very busy and when we arrived it took me twenty minutes to find somewhere to park, by which time Harrison was protesting that he needed his bottle and Adrian and Paula were protesting about how long it was taking. But as soon as I’d parked and we were out of the car and on the beach, Harrison had his bottle, Adrian and Paula changed into their swimming costumes and everyone was happy. The sun shone in a clear blue sky and there was a gentle sea breeze causing little waves to ripple on to the shore. The air was alive with happy children playing and shouting and I was pleased I’d made the effort to come. Adrian and Paula paddled in the sea and jumped the waves and then made sandcastles on the beach. Harrison, bemused by all the new sights and sounds, lay either in my arms or on the blanket, gurgling and waving his hands in excitement. He seemed to be taking it all in and his face was a picture when Adrian filled up a bucket of wet sand and dipped his hand in.

  At one o’clock everyone was hungry, so I bought fish and chips from the beach café, and we ate them straight from the paper on the beach; then later in the afternoon we had ice-cream, and later still Adrian and Paula had a burger each and then candy floss. It was after six o’clock – when other families were also leaving the beach – when I said we really needed to be going. I gave Harrison a bottle before we left; then, having gathered together our belongings and shaken the sand off the blanket, we returned to the car, pleasantly exhausted from a great day.

  The following day we awoke to wind and rain, which continued for the next two days and largely confined us to the house, so I was pleased we’d gone to the seaside when we had.

  The weekend arrived and the rain finally stopped, but on Saturday morning I told Adrian and Paula that before we did anything else we needed to do a big supermarket shop. The children had good appetites and it seemed I was continuously low on food and having to restock. Adrian and Paula weren’t over-enthusiastic supermarket shoppers and it took a lot of coercing from me and moaning from them before they finally stopped playing and came into the hall to put on their sandals as I’d asked them to do. Adrian was still wearing a rather sulky expression, so that when he opened the front door and then slammed it shut I thought he was messing around and making a statement about not wanting to go shopping.

  ‘Adrian,’ I said, not best pleased, ‘the sooner we go to the supermarket, the sooner you can come home and play.’

  ‘It�
��s not that,’ he said. ‘There’s someone watching our house.’

  ‘What? A spy?’ Paula teased.

  ‘No,’ Adrian said. ‘It’s that woman. The one who was there before.’

  It took me a moment to realize that Adrian wasn’t fooling around and was probably referring to the woman we’d seen before, waiting across the street. The door was closed and Adrian still had his hand on the doorknob.

  ‘Let me see,’ I said, setting down Harrison’s car seat in the hall.

  ‘I bet she’s gone now,’ Adrian said, pulling a face at Paula for doubting him.

  I turned the doorknob and slowly opened the front door, expecting to see an empty street, because on the two previous occasions the woman had fled as soon as she’d seen us. Perhaps she hadn’t seen Adrian – he’d opened and closed the door very quickly – so perhaps that was the reason she hadn’t run away. For as I opened the door and looked across the road I saw the woman on the pavement opposite before she saw me; then she turned and fled. And whereas on the other occasions I’d had doubts as to whether she’d been looking at our house or the house next door, or was just waiting for a friend, now I had no doubts at all. She had definitely been watching our house and I had a feeling she’d been there for some time.

  I went down the front garden path to the gate and watched the woman running up the road, quickly disappearing out of sight. I returned inside, where Adrian and Paula were looking at me anxiously.