A Baby’s Cry

by Cathy Glass

  ‘Boo!’ he said, and I laughed.

  ‘For you,’ Rihanna said, laying the bouquet in my arms and kissing my cheek. ‘Thank you for everything.’

  Already feeling pretty emotional I felt my eyes fill with tears. ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘They’re beautiful, but you shouldn’t have.’ I stood aside to let Rihanna and Harrison in.

  ‘Cathy, you don’t know how grateful I am. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t be here now.’

  ‘Oh?’ I said.

  ‘When I came to see you that night at the beginning of December you suggested I saw Harrison. That was the turning point for me. It was then I realized how much I loved Harrison and always would. I knew then I couldn’t live without him and had to do everything in my power to get him back.’

  I smiled, pleased. ‘You did it, not me.’

  Harrison was now looking at me curiously, probably wondering what he was doing here and if he would be staying.

  ‘How did he sleep last night?’ I asked. We were still in the hall, surrounded by the bags I’d previously packed.

  ‘Very well,’ Rihanna said. ‘He woke once but soon settled.’ Her gaze shifted to the cases and she suddenly burst into tears. As she delved into her jacket pocket for a tissue I put down the flowers so that I could take Harrison. ‘Sorry,’ she said, passing Harrison to me and wiping her eyes. ‘Seeing that case’ – she nodded to the trolley case – ‘brought back all the memories. I can remember how wretched I felt as I packed his clothes. I guess even then I knew I shouldn’t be giving him up but I couldn’t see any other way.’

  I touched her arm reassuringly as she wiped her eyes and tucked the tissue into her pocket. ‘Would you like to stay for a while and I’ll make us a coffee?’ I asked.

  ‘Would you mind if we didn’t?’ she said. ‘I’d rather we left now. Then when you visit next week I’ll feel stronger. You don’t mind, do you?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ I said. ‘Come on, I’ll help you into the car with the bags.’

  Still holding Harrison I picked up a bag with my free hand and led the way out of the door. Rihanna followed with the trolley case and another bag. I opened the boot and we loaded her car. We returned to the house and Rihanna made another trip to the car with the other two bags while I waited inside with Harrison. All that was left now was the carrier bag I’d put to one side. As Rihanna returned to the hall I passed her the bag. ‘In there is Harrison’s red book,’ I said. ‘A present and card from us, which the two of you can open at home. His Life Story book, which I think Cheryl has mentioned to you. And a cheque to make up for the clothes I didn’t have to buy Harrison.’

  ‘No, I’m not taking that,’ Rihanna said, delving into the bag to retrieve the cheque. ‘I was grateful you did as I asked and dressed him in the clothes. It helped me, it really did.’

  ‘Please keep it,’ I said, gently pushing the cheque back towards her. ‘It’s payable to Harrison, so put it in his savings account. I’d like it if you did.’

  Rihanna hesitated. ‘Well, if you’re sure.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I saw her eyes fill again and Harrison was looking at his mother, most concerned.

  I kissed him and placed him in her arms. ‘Come on, let’s go,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you to the car.’

  Leaving the door on the latch I followed Rihanna and Harrison down the path and then waited on the pavement while she put the bag I’d just given to her on to the passenger seat, and then opened the rear door and sat Harrison in his new car seat. Leaning in she fastened the belts and then tested they were secure. Satisfied, she stood back so that I could say goodbye.

  I leant in. ‘Goodbye, love,’ I said. I gently eased my arms around his shoulders and drew him close one last time. I felt his little arms encircle my neck and the soft touch of his skin. His lips pressed lightly against my cheek as he gave me a little kiss. ‘Goodbye, love,’ I said again.

  ‘Bye,’ he said.

  I felt my bottom lip tremble as I stood back and Rihanna closed the car door.

  ‘Bye, Cathy,’ she said, giving me a hug. ‘Thanks again for everything.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ I managed to say.

  I watched as she climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Harrison was looking at me through the side window, his little face so innocent, trusting and loving. I felt a tear escape and run down my cheek. The car began to pull away. I waved and Harrison gave a little wave back. I stayed on the pavement and watched until the car was out of sight; then returning up the front path I went inside and closed the door. That’s the trouble with babies, I thought: you can’t help but love them.

  Epilogue

  Jill phoned later that Friday morning to ask if the move had gone well and I said it had. She knew that, as when previous foster children had left us, I would be taking a couple of weeks off from fostering so that I could spend time with Adrian and Paula, which would allow the three of us space to come to terms with losing Harrison. When a foster child, who has been part of the family for a long time, leaves it is like a small bereavement from which it takes time to recover. This is true not only for the immediate family but also for grandparents, extended family and close friends, all of whom have welcomed the child as family and then have to adjust to losing them.

  The days immediately following Harrison’s departure were strange and unsettling. While Adrian, Paula and I obviously knew Harrison was no longer in the house we still had the feeling that if we went into the right room we would see him crawling across the floor, playing with his toys or just sitting, chattering his baby talk. It seemed unnatural that he wasn’t somewhere in the house. I often caught Adrian and Paula looking at the photographs of Harrison on the mantelpiece and on the wall in the sitting room, as indeed I did, when we were supposed to be watching television or reading a book. Paula asked many times if I thought Harry was happy and I said I was sure he was, while Adrian predictably went quiet when Harrison was mentioned. I hoped seeing Harrison the following Saturday settled with his mother would help us to let go and move on.

  I left the decision as to whether or not Adrian and Paula came with me to see Harrison to them, but I was pleased when they both said they would come, for I was sure it was what they needed. We dressed smartly for our visit, as there was a sense of occasion, although we were also a little apprehensive.

  However, when Rihanna answered the front door our reserve immediately vanished.

  ‘Look at Harry!’ Paula exclaimed. Instead of being carried to the door as had happened previously Harrison was now holding his mother’s hand and standing beside her.

  ‘Wow!’ Adrian said. ‘He’s walking.’

  ‘Yes, he’s toddling everywhere now,’ Rihanna said excitedly.

  ‘Fantastic,’ I said. I was so pleased he’d saved this developmental milestone for his mother.

  We followed Harrison and his mother into their flat, where Rihanna made us a drink and set a plate of homemade pastries on the table, which were delicious. Then while Adrian and Paula played with Harrison, Rihanna told me about her week. She said Cheryl had made an unannounced visit on Wednesday but it had gone well and she hadn’t been as anxious as she’d thought she would be. Cheryl had told her she was doing well, and that she’d make two more visits and then write her final report, and that would be the end of the social services’ involvement. Rihanna also told me that her parents had visited during the week but that her sister was still angry and had refused to come.

  ‘It’s up to her,’ Rihanna said, with a small shrug. ‘I hope she changes her mind but I can’t force her.’ So I guessed Rihanna had had to come to terms with possibly losing forever the close relationship she’d previously enjoyed with her sister, which was sad. Rihanna also said she’d telephoned Harrison’s father, Jacob, and was meeting him the following week, when she was going to tell him about Harrison. Rihanna said she knew it was going to be a very difficult conversation and that Jacob had the right to be upset and angry. She was go
ing to suggest he saw Harrison now her family no longer posed the threat it had, but it would obviously be Jacob’s decision.

  An hour passed easily and at the end of the hour I said we should be going. Adrian and Paula would have liked to have stayed longer, and Harrison was appreciating the attention, but Cheryl had stipulated an hour for our visit, which is usually considered an appropriate time for this type of post-move get-together; longer could be unsettling for the child. Rihanna said she would stay in touch with us; then she took Harrison’s hand, and they walked with us to the outer door, where they waved us off. In the car going home Paula and Adrian talked easily about Harrison and I could see our visit had reassured them that he was happy and well settled.

  Once a child has left a foster carer the child’s family decides if they stay in contact with the foster family. Foster carers are not supposed to initiate contact, for example by phoning, much as they’d like to, as it could be seen to be intrusive and unsettling for the child. Two months after Harrison had left us it was his first birthday and, having not heard from Rihanna in the interim, I sent a birthday card in the post. A week after his birthday I received a short but pleasant letter from Rihanna thanking me for the card, saying Harrison was fine, and hoping we were all well and enjoying the summer. She’d enclosed two photographs of Harrison’s first birthday, which showed Harrison sitting on her lap and grinning in front of a large birthday cake in the shape of the figure one.

  That was in July, and I didn’t hear any more from Rihanna until Christmas. I’d sent Rihanna and Harrison a Christmas card, and one of the cards I subsequently opened was from Rihanna. It contained another short but pleasant letter and two more photographs of Harrison. In the letter Rihanna apologized for not writing sooner but said time seemed to have ‘slipped away’, which I fully appreciated. She said she was looking forward to Harrison’s first Christmas with her and they would be spending Christmas Day at her parents’. She didn’t mention her sister but did say that Harrison was seeing his father. The photographs showed Harrison, a sturdy and very handsome little chap aged eighteen months, eating dinner at home and also sitting in a swing in a park.

  I didn’t see Rihanna or Harrison again, although for the next three years Rihanna sent photographs of Harrison with a short letter twice a year: in July, just after Harrison’s birthday, and at Christmas. I too sent Christmas and birthday cards, although I didn’t know if Rihanna ever showed them to Harrison or indeed if he knew of our existence. In her letters Rihanna told me she’d returned to work, part time to begin with, and then extended her hours when Harrison started school. Then just after Harrison’s sixth birthday Rihanna wrote to say she’d accepted a post in a hospital in another city and they would be moving – to rented accommodation at first while she found somewhere to buy. She said she’d let me know her new address and that Harrison was doing well at school and had a good relationship with his father. She enclosed a school photograph of Harrison, in which he looked very smart in his school uniform. I wrote back thanking her for the photograph, and saying I hoped the move went well, but I didn’t hear any more.

  So, as with other children we’ve fostered who haven’t kept in touch, we rely on the pleasure we gain from looking at the photographs in our albums, when we remember Harrison fondly and with much love.

  For the latest update on Harrison and also Ellie, please visit www.cathyglass.co.uk

  Acknowledgements

  Many thanks to my editor, Anne; my literary agent, Andrew; Carole, Simon, Vicky and all the team at HarperCollins.

  Other Books by Cathy Glass

  Damaged

  Hidden

  Cut

  The Saddest Girl in the World

  Happy Kids

  The Girl in the Mirror

  I Miss Mummy

  Mummy Told Me Not to Tell

  Run, Mummy, Run

  My Dad’s a Policeman (a Quick Reads novel)

  The Night the Angels Came

  Happy Adults

  Copyright

  HarperElement

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  HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

  First published by HarperElement 2012

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  Cathy Glass asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

  A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 978-0-00-744263-8

  A BABY’S CRY. © Cathy Glass 2012. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  EPub Edition © DECEMBER 2011 ISBN: 978-0-00-744570-7

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