by Cathy Glass
‘I think you do, really,’ I said. ‘I like you, so do Adrian, Lucy and Paula.’
He was quiet on the way home, clearly deep in thought, then as I parked outside our house he said quietly, ‘I do like you, and Adrian, Lucy and Paula. I’ll miss you if I go.’
‘I know, love,’ I said, turning to look at him. He was so lost, almost as he had been when he’d first arrived. ‘We’ll miss you too, but if you do go to live with your aunt we’ll keep in touch.’
‘For always and ever?’
‘Yes, if you wish.’
Andrew returned to the UK and emailed to say that he would be observing the next contact and would I tell Oskar. The child’s social worker normally observes contact from time to time, and usually before the final court hearing.
‘Will he play with me?’ Oskar asked when I told him.
‘He might,’ I said. ‘Although he is really there to watch you with your mother.’
‘Why?’
‘To see how you get along and play together.’
‘She doesn’t play,’ Oskar said, which he’d said before.
Andrew was there at the start and end of the next contact, having stayed for the whole hour. After contact, Oskar told me he had played with him and showed him how to make a paper aeroplane, while his mother had been busy texting on her phone. I knew that wouldn’t have given a good impression. She only saw Oskar for two hours a week, and parents are expected to spend the time interacting with their children. But in respect of Andrew’s report to the judge and the outcome of the court hearing, it didn’t really matter at this stage, as Roksana wasn’t fighting to have Oskar returned to her; she had agreed to him living with her sister.
Oskar didn’t know the exact date of the court hearing in October, but I did, and so too did his mother. As the days marched steadily towards it, I tried to keep everything as normal as possible, while aware of the momentous life-changing decision that would soon be made. Oskar continued to see his mother twice a week, phone her on the days he didn’t see her and also phone Dol on Saturdays. Sensibly, she didn’t mention the court case. Oskar went to art therapy on Wednesday, gym on Saturday and, despite playing up at school, he was still allowed to go swimming, although I did stop his television one evening after he’d shouted rudely at Mrs Williams.
The court hearing was originally set for four days but was then reduced to two. Because Roksana was no longer contesting the case, it would be much shorter. It was held on the Monday and Tuesday of the second week in October and the judge was due to give her ruling on Wednesday morning. Roksana had taken the time off work to attend the hearing, and contact on Tuesday was cancelled. I took Oskar to school on Wednesday morning as usual and then had a nail-biting wait before Andrew telephoned at midday.
‘The judge has agreed that Oskar can live with his aunt and uncle,’ he said.
I wasn’t surprised. What was more of a shock was the timescale. I’d assumed it would take months to complete the assessments and arrange the move, and Oskar would be with us for Christmas and some of the following year. However, Andrew said he was aiming to move Oskar in November. The fact that Dol and Ivan were already doing a good job of looking after Luka helped. The police checks had been applied for, the local school had a place for Oskar, he already had a passport and Andrew was liaising with the child services out there.
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘I’ll come to see you this afternoon at five o’clock to tell Oskar.’
I knew that social workers often liked to be the ones to impart important news like this to the child, so when I collected Oskar from school that afternoon I hid my feelings and simply said, ‘Andrew is coming to see us at five o’clock.’
‘Again,’ he grumbled. ‘I want to play.’
‘You can play before he arrives,’ I said.
‘I’ve got homework to do.’
‘OK. We’ll do that first.’
‘No, I want to play.’
I didn’t respond to Oskar’s awkwardness. I knew the reason for it and we continued to my car.
‘You’re quiet,’ he remarked after some minutes as I drove.
‘Am I?’ I asked, glancing at him in the rear-view mirror.
‘Yes. Not like you are normally. You usually talk a lot’ – said with a cheeky grin. I returned his smile in the mirror. He’d come on so much since he’d first arrived, silent, withdrawn and scared. Now he had character, a personality with likes, dislikes and the adorable cheekiness of a six-year-old. We’d grown very close during our time together and I knew I was going to miss him dreadfully, although I did believe that him going to live with his brother, aunt and uncle was the right decision.
Once home, I made Oskar a drink and a snack and then I helped him with his homework.
‘Mrs Williams said I had a good day,’ he told me as he worked.
‘Excellent,’ I said. ‘Well done. I am pleased.’
‘So was Mrs Williams. She kept saying she was pleased, and then gave me extra golden time. Leo said it wasn’t fair, as he always behaves himself but doesn’t get extra golden time.’
After Oskar had finished his homework, he went into the living room to play while I began preparing dinner so we could eat once Andrew had gone. Paula came home and I told her Andrew was coming and what the outcome of the court case had been.
‘Oh, so Oskar is definitely leaving?’
‘Yes. I’m afraid so.’
You might think that after fostering for so many years we would all be used to children leaving, but it still hurt. I liken it to a mini bereavement.
‘I guess it’s best for him,’ Paula said bravely, and went to play with him.
Andrew didn’t arrive until 5.30 p.m., by which time Paula was in her bedroom and Oskar was watching some television. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ he said as he came in. ‘We had an emergency. I won’t stay for long.’
I led the way down the hall and into the living room.
‘Hi, Oskar,’ Andrew said brightly. I switched off the television.
‘Hey, I was watching that!’ Oskar snapped.
‘You can have it on again when Andrew’s gone,’ I replied.
‘I’ve got something important to tell you,’ Andrew said, and he drew up an easy chair so he was facing Oskar. I assumed he wanted me to stay, so I sat on the sofa.
‘What is it?’ Oskar asked brusquely, annoyed he couldn’t watch television. I frowned so he could see I was displeased.
‘Today I went to court to see the judge about where you should live permanently,’ Andrew began. He had Oskar’s full attention now. He looked at him, wide-eyed. ‘The judge has given it a lot of thought and has decided that you can live with Luka, your aunt, uncle and cousins.’
I watched Oskar’s face go through a range of emotions: delight, happiness, doubt and sadness. ‘But I’ll only see Mummy at Christmas,’ he said.
‘Your mummy told the judge she is hoping to visit you and Luka more often, maybe two or three times a year. And, of course, you’ll speak to her on the phone as well.’
‘Can Cathy phone me too?’ Oskar asked, glancing at me.
‘Yes, I’m sure she will stay in touch,’ Andrew replied.
‘I will,’ I said.
‘And Leo?’ Oskar asked.
Andrew looked puzzled. ‘Oskar’s best friend,’ I reminded him. ‘Leo’s mother said she’d like the boys to stay in touch.’
‘Good,’ Andrew said, then to Oskar, ‘Do you have any questions?’
‘When am I going?’
‘We’re not sure of the exact date yet, but probably the middle to end of November.’
‘So that’s about four to six weeks away,’ I told Oskar.
His face became serious again. ‘Is that when I have to leave here?’
‘Yes,’ I said. It was a lot for him to take in.
‘Betwee
n now and the move you are going to phone your aunty more often,’ Andrew said. ‘I believe it’s once a week at present.’ He looked at me.
‘Yes, on a Saturday evening.’
‘So I suggest keeping Saturday, and adding Sunday and then mid-week, say Wednesday. You will still see your mother on Tuesdays and Thursdays but won’t phone her any more until after the move.’
I knew this was to strengthen the bond between Oskar and his permanent family ahead of the move and to weaken it with his mother.
‘Shall we Skype Dol?’ I suggested to Andrew. ‘Then they will be able to see each other as they talk.’
‘Yes, I don’t see why not, but clear it with Dol and Ivan first.’
‘I will.’ I reached for a pen and paper to make a note of this, as well as the days we were to phone them.
‘Any more questions?’ Andrew asked Oskar.
He shook his head.
‘If you think of anything, you can ask Cathy, OK?’
He nodded.
Andrew then said goodbye and stood to leave. This wasn’t his normal six-weekly visit; he’d just come to tell Oskar the outcome of the court case. As I went with him to the front door, I checked that we weren’t to phone his mother this evening – Wednesday.
‘That’s right,’ Andrew said. ‘The new arrangements start from now. I’ll speak to Roksana and Dol.’
‘Could you also tell Miss Jordan the outcome of the court case, please? I know she and her mother are waiting for any news.’
‘Yes, I will, first thing tomorrow.’
‘Thank you.’ We said goodbye.
Adrian came home from work and I told him the outcome of the court case. His reaction was much the same as Paula’s – that we would miss Oskar, but it was best for him. ‘A new start,’ he said.
However, when Lucy arrived home and I told her, she snapped at me. ‘I’ve just got in. I’m tired and I’ve had a shit awful day. I’m going to my room to lie down.’
Bad timing, Cathy, I told myself, and left her to have a rest. But she was very quiet over dinner.
‘Are you OK?’ I asked her.
‘I don’t have to talk, do I?’ she asked tetchily.
‘Bad mood bear,’ Adrian quipped. Normally Lucy would have laughed or said something back, but instead she left the table and returned to her bedroom.
‘Whoops, sorry,’ Adrian said.
‘It’s not your fault. She’s had a rough day.’
I quickly finished my dinner and went up to see Lucy. She was lying on her bed, staring into space. ‘What’s the matter, love? Anything I can help with?’
‘Not really.’
‘Is it a problem at work?’
‘No.’
‘With Darren?’
‘Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it now.’
‘OK. You know where I am if you need me,’ I said.
Respecting her privacy and need for some time alone, I came out and closed the door. So it was a boyfriend problem. I wondered if they’d split up, but I felt sure if Lucy needed to talk she would do so, when she was ready and in her own time.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Retiring?
The following morning we fell into our week-day routine. Lucy seemed to have recovered from her worries of the evening before, although she hadn’t told me what the matter was. I’d heard her talking quietly on her phone when I’d gone to bed, so perhaps she and Darren had had a quarrel and then made up. Oskar and I called goodbye and left for school. I was planning on telling Leo’s mother the outcome of the court case when I saw her in the playground. However, Oskar beat me to it. As soon as he spotted Leo he rushed over and said, ‘I’m going to live with my brother, so you can come on a plane to see me.’
I told Julia of the judge’s decision, the timescale and that Oskar’s social worker was happy for the boys to keep in touch if she and Oskar’s aunt could organize it between themselves. ‘Is it all right if I give your mobile number to Dol?’ I asked her.
‘Yes, of course. Leo’s already told me he has to phone and text.’
I smiled. ‘And once I know the date when he’ll be going I shall be giving him a little leaving party, which I hope you and your family will come to.’
‘Oh, thank you, but that will be sad, having to say goodbye.’
‘Yes, although it’s important for Oskar his stay with us ends on a happy note,’ I said, trying to stay positive.
Oskar had contact that evening and for the first time in ages Roksana put down her phone as we entered the room and hugged her son. He seemed as surprised by her sudden display of affection as I was. I guessed the reality – that he was leaving – had finally hit home, although we still had at least a month before he went. I said goodbye and left.
When I returned to collect Oskar, instead of rushing off, Roksana hugged him again. Indeed, she didn’t want to let him go.
‘I hope I’ve done the right thing,’ she said to me. I assumed she meant in agreeing to Oskar going to live with her sister.
‘Yes, I think you have,’ I said.
After a moment she straightened and, kissing Oskar’s forehead, said, ‘Bye. See you Tuesday.’
She waited in the contact room while we left. I glanced back and saw her take a tissue from the box on the table and wipe her eyes. I think Roksana was someone who struggled to show her feelings and felt a lot more than she ever let on. At that moment, with her guard down, she seemed very fragile and alone. Oskar would be leaving to start a new life soon with his extended family, but from what I knew of Roksana’s life, it was all work. I supposed she had some friends, and she lived in a multi-occupancy house, so she shouldn’t be lonely. But in quiet moments, when she had time to reflect, I was sure she’d miss Oskar and have regrets. He had been the main reason for her living here – to give him a better life – and soon he’d be gone. I wondered if, in time, she would follow him and return home too.
On Thursday afternoon Mrs Williams came to find me in the playground. ‘Oskar’s had a very unsettled day,’ she said. ‘I stopped some of his golden time – that’s when the children are allowed to choose an activity.’
I nodded sombrely.
‘I’m aware of all the changes he’s facing,’ she continued. ‘But it wouldn’t be doing Oskar any favours if I allowed his school work and behaviour to deteriorate.’
‘No, indeed,’ I said. ‘I am sorry.’
‘I’ll have a better day tomorrow, Miss,’ Oskar chirped.
‘Let’s hope so,’ Mrs Williams replied dryly, and returned into the school.
I was about to leave when Miss Jordan appeared at my side. ‘Andrew telephoned. He’s told me,’ she said. I hoped she wouldn’t start to cry.
‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you and your mother,’ I said, and lightly touched her arm.
‘No, it’s OK. I understand,’ she replied, and seemed quite upbeat. ‘Andrew has suggested my mother and I look into fostering. We’re going to the next introductory meeting.’
‘Wonderful,’ I said. ‘I am pleased. I’m sure you’ll be great.’
‘Thanks. I would never have thought about fostering before I met you and Oskar. Mum’s excited too. We know we both have to be assessed, but if we go ahead and are accepted we could be fostering in six months.’
‘Fantastic. Well done.’
On Saturday Oskar and I made our first Skype call to Dol. I texted her first to make sure it was convenient, and then we used my computer in the front room for its larger screen. Oskar was familiar with Skype, as his mother sometimes used the app on her phone when she called her sister. Dol answered the call so appeared on camera first. She was standing in her kitchen, back to the sink and smiling as she said hello. Although I’d seen photographs of her and had spoken to her on the phone, now I could see her in real time she came alive, and her warm personality was im
mediately obvious. I began by asking how she and her family were and she asked after my family, much as we did when I phoned. Then I moved to one side so Oskar could take centre stage and talk to her.
‘Hello, Aunty Dol!’ he said, smiling and waving. ‘Your hair looks different.’
She laughed. ‘It needs a good cut, but it’s finding the time.’ I knew how she felt!
‘I’m definitely coming to live with you,’ Oskar told her, delighted.
‘I know, love, we’re all looking forward to having you here. Your uncle is making some changes upstairs so you will have your own room.’
‘I can sleep in Luka’s room like I do at Christmas,’ Oskar said.
‘No. That’s all right for a few days, but we disturb you when we have to see to him at night. Don’t you worry. Ivan’s got it all planned. Here’s Luka come to talk to you.’
She turned the phone so the camera was facing the door and Luka appeared in his wheelchair. It was old and its well-worn wheels grated over the flagstones of the kitchen floor. Dol passed the phone to him and she disappeared from view. I stayed where I was – to one side of the monitor – so I could see Luka. The boys fell into conversation, chatting and laughing as if they were in the same room. The joy and advantage of this type of technology! I thought. Oskar made Luka laugh loudly by putting his face close to the camera, and then Luka did the same. Suddenly the screen was filled with Luka’s open mouth and Oskar nearly fell off his chair laughing. I laughed too. A dog barked out of sight and then bounded into view and leapt straight onto Luka’s lap, his rear end towards the camera.
‘I can see up his bottom!’ Oskar cried, and laughed hysterically.
Luka then put the phone close to the dog’s face and its large wet nostrils filled our screen. The dog licked the phone and smeared our view with slobber.
‘Yuk!’ Oskar cried as Luka wiped it off and the boys laughed again. Paula, who’d been in the hall on her way to the kitchen, came in to see what was going on.
‘Who’s that?’ Luka asked as she came into our camera’s line of sight.
