by Cathy Glass
When Lin telephoned she was withdrawn and full of self-recrimination. Ultimately the decision to take Rosemary and Edward to the adoption panel as a good match for Alex had been hers. ‘What did I miss?’ she asked me.
‘I don’t know. Alex and James are close in age, but that could have worked out. Jill said she thought that Rosemary and Edward probably had unrealistic expectations.’
‘Not while they were talking to me they didn’t,’ Lin said defensively. ‘They said all the right things. Ticked all the boxes. But they didn’t give it a chance.’
‘I know.’
‘My husband’s a social worker and I phoned him at lunchtime to offload. He said he’d once dealt with an adoption that failed after four days. It was early on in his career and he blamed himself, but I really don’t know what else I could have done.’
I wasn’t qualified to comment. I knew the types of questions that Rosemary and Edward would have been asked during the adoption assessment, but I had no idea of the discussions that had resulted or whether they should have alerted Lin and raised concerns. Clearly she hadn’t thought so at the time.
‘Anyway,’ Lin said, ‘the most important thing now is that Alex doesn’t feel any of this is his fault. Debbie is going to talk to him and I know you’ll follow that through.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Although we both knew that many children who came into care believed it was their fault. How much worse would it be for Alex, who had been led to believe he’d been found the perfect family?
It was a bleak day for everyone involved in Alex’s case.
That afternoon, after collecting Adrian from school, I waited until we were home before I told both children the bad news.
‘They don’t want him?’ Adrian exclaimed, although that wasn’t how I’d phrased it. I’d been very careful in choosing my words. Paula stared at me wide-eyed, mirroring Adrian’s shock.
‘Rosemary and Edward feel they have made a mistake in wanting to adopt,’ I said, sitting between them on the sofa. ‘It’s nothing to do with Alex personally. It was very wrong of them to get this far, but at least Alex can come back here, and we’ll do our best to help him.’
‘But they were supposed to be his mummy and daddy,’ Adrian said. ‘Forever and ever. They seemed like nice people. I told Alex they were.’
‘I know, love. So did I. I don’t know what went wrong, but it certainly wasn’t Alex’s fault.’
‘I don’t think they are nice people after all to do that to Alex,’ Adrian said, his little face sad and downcast. Paula nodded in agreement.
‘That’s what Nana said,’ I offered.
‘But they seemed nice,’ Adrian said, struggling as I and the social workers had done to understand. ‘They promised to take him to Disney World, and sailing and camping. He was so looking forward to doing all that.’
‘There have been lots of broken promises, which Alex will have to come to terms with,’ I said. ‘But the worst broken promise of all is that he no longer has the loving forever family he was promised.’ Adrian’s face fell further, but to underplay what had happened or cover it with platitudes would have been dismissive of Adrian’s feeling. Acknowledging pain, disappointment and suffering is part of the healing process. Aged three, Paula was in some ways protected.
‘We’ll look after him,’ Adrian said.
‘We will,’ I agreed, and I hugged them both.
I was anxiously watching the clock as I made dinner. Rosemary would have collected Alex from school by now and they would be home, with Debbie telling Alex the dreadful news. How on earth would she phrase it? I couldn’t think of an easy way to tell him, but I guessed as a social worker Debbie would have had experience in delivering bad news: telling a child they were leaving their family to live with a foster carer, for instance. Although of course in that situation – removing a child from their birth family – there would usually have been some warning. Probably months of visits and monitoring by the social services before the child was removed. It wouldn’t normally be like this – happy families one minute and then ‘it’s over and you’re going to have to leave’ the next. I doubted Debbie’s previous experience was going to be of much help.
By six o’clock, the time we sat down to dinner, I assumed Alex had been told. What was he doing? How had he taken the news? Was he eating his dinner or had he fled to his bedroom, too upset to eat? Knowing Alex, I guessed he’d probably gone very quiet, and once his social worker had left crept up to his room where he was now lying on his bed, cuddling one of his soft toys for comfort. My heart bled for him. I wished I could be with him now to try to ease his pain.
Adrian and Paula didn’t mention Alex again during the evening, although I guessed that, like me, they were probably thinking plenty. After dinner I heard Adrian read his school book and then, once Paula was in bed, we played a couple of games of draughts before it was time for him to go to bed. As I lay with him by the light of the lamp, giving him a goodnight hug and having a chat about his day, he said, ‘You wouldn’t ever send me away, would you?’
‘Of course not. You don’t get rid of me that easily!’ I said, trying to lighten his mood. But the fact that he had asked the question at all showed just how unsettling this experience was for him. Paula, that much younger, didn’t perceive the wider implications, so for her Alex would simply reappear.
‘What has happened to Alex is shocking and upsetting, but it is unusual,’ I emphasized. ‘Most children who are adopted have happy and normal family lives, the same as if they were birth children. This should never have happened, and the social workers will be asking themselves lots of questions to see what went wrong and to try to make sure it doesn’t happen again.’
‘What sort of questions?’ Adrian asked, snuggling close.
‘Well, for example, did Rosemary or Edward say something that might have given a clue that they weren’t suitable to adopt? The social worker would have spent a lot of time talking to them, asking them questions and listening to what they said. Perhaps she missed something.’
‘Or perhaps they just changed their minds,’ Adrian said.
‘But you can’t do that with adoption. It’s a commitment, and if they weren’t absolutely sure then they should never have continued with the adoption.’
‘Poor Alex,’ Adrian said, and gave me another hug. Then after a moment, ‘Would you ever adopt?’
‘I have you and Paula and I like fostering, but in the future, who knows?’
‘Fostering is different from adoption, isn’t it?’ he said.
‘Yes, with fostering we hope that the child will be able to go home to their own family. Whereas with adoption the child can’t go home, so they are found a new forever family.’
‘I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to adopt,’ Adrian said, kissing my cheek.
‘That’s nice, although it would be something we’d have to all talk about for a long time. Perhaps when Paula is older.’
Satisfied, he gave me another hug and then snuggled down ready for sleep. ‘Love you, Mum.’
‘Love you too.’ I kept my arm around him until he fell asleep.
Before I went to bed that night I headed up a clean sheet of paper in my fostering folder, ready to begin or rather continue my log notes for Alex. He’d been gone such a short length of time that I hadn’t passed the first set of notes for his bridging placement to Debbie yet. I wrote today’s date and Alex’s name at the top and then briefly stated that he would be returning to me the following day as a result of the failed adoption. I didn’t go into detail on what had happened, as the social services would cover it in their report. Having done this, I returned the folder to the locked drawer in the front room and then let Toscha out for a run before going to bed.
I didn’t sleep well. I spent most of the night lying in the dark thinking about Alex: alone in his bed in that large, freshly decorated and newly furnished bedroom that was supposed to be his. Was he also awake? I wouldn’t be surprised. Upset and worrying about his now-uncert
ain future. Or possibly he’d cried himself to sleep, which broke my heart. My thoughts wandered around that splendid house, which had so impressed us, and the advantageous lifestyle Alex was going to enjoy. Could all those trappings of success have influenced Lin’s assessment of Rosemary and Edward? It was possible, I supposed; choosing them for Alex over a family who had little in terms of material possessions and struggled to make ends meet. Yet that other family may have been able to offer the unconditional love and nurturing that Alex needed, for it’s not about what a family owns, but their love and commitment. I didn’t doubt that Rosemary and Edward loved James, but evidently they didn’t have what it took to throw that love wider and extend it to a child who wasn’t their own flesh and blood – something that should have been picked up during the assessment.
I tormented myself with all sorts of scenarios and was pleased when the night was over and I could get up and start the new day. In about twelve hours Alex would be with me, and I was determined to do all I could to help him get over his dreadful ordeal and disappointment.
Leaving behind my maudlin nocturnal ruminations, I showered and dressed in a more positive frame of mind, and then woke the children. Adrian was in a better place, too, and was soon planning the games he and Alex could play together ‘to take his mind off what has happened’, he said. Which was sweet. When I explained to Paula that Alex would be coming to live with us again later today she grinned and then fetched her favourite doll, which she put on Alex’s seat at the table and said he could play with.
After I’d taken Adrian to school and Paula to nursery I went to the supermarket and stocked up on Alex’s favourite foods. I also bought some new posters for his bedroom, as he’d taken the others with him. On my return home I unpacked the shopping and then stuck the posters on Alex’s bedroom walls. It seemed like only yesterday I was taking down the others and packing them, together with all his other belongings. I’d purposely kept the weekend ahead free to give Alex the chance to settle in again. If the weather was fine, we could go out for a walk or take the bikes to the park. I’d just see what Alex wanted to do.
I collected Paula from nursery but found it impossible to settle that afternoon, and my concentration was only half on the games I played with her. Most foster carers are nervous just before a new child arrives, wondering if they will be able to meet their needs and if the child will like them. Once the child arrives I am usually so busy that I don’t have time to worry and just deal with any problems as they arise. Now, my anxiety wasn’t for a new child but for Alex, and what I could possibly say and do to help him.
Chapter Twelve
Why Did They Stop Loving Me?
Allowing an hour for Rosemary to collect Alex from school and for Debbie to arrive and load Alex’s belongings into her car, then the hour’s drive to me, I wasn’t expecting to see them before 6.30 p.m. At six o’clock the children and I ate dinner and I plated up Alex’s, for I assumed he wouldn’t have had time to eat at Rosemary’s. As seven o’clock approached and there was still no sign of Alex, Paula was becoming fractious, so I took her up to bed. I’d just returned downstairs at 7.30 when the doorbell rang.
‘Is that him?’ Adrian asked, rushing into the hall.
‘I expect so.’
Adrian stood beside me as I opened the door. It was a cold, wet night. In the light of the porch stood little Alex, holding his social worker’s hand, coat zipped up, his face very pale and with dark circles beneath his eyes.
‘Hello, love,’ I said. He looked back at me, tired and bewildered.
‘He fell asleep in the car,’ Debbie said as they came in. ‘I had to wake him.’
‘How are you?’ I gently asked him.
He gave a small despondent shrug and dropped Debbie’s hand.
‘Let’s take off your coat then,’ I said. I began undoing the zipper as Debbie took off her own coat and hung it on the hall stand.
‘Once he’s settled, perhaps you could help me unpack the car?’ Debbie asked.
‘Yes, of course.’ Adrian was looking at Alex, not sure what to say and do for the best.
I offered Alex my hand but he didn’t take it, so I led the way down the hall and into the living room, where Toscha, curled on the sofa, opened one eye to see who had arrived. Adrian had arranged some toys on the floor for them to play with, but Alex, clearly exhausted, sat on the sofa next to Toscha. Debbie sat beside him and Adrian and I took the easy chairs.
‘How are you doing, love?’ I asked Alex again. He answered with another despondent shrug.
‘He’s had a lot to cope with,’ Debbie said. ‘The school have been good. I’ve told Alex that what has happened wasn’t in any way his fault; that sometimes children go to new families and it doesn’t work out.’ I thought Debbie was letting Rosemary and Edward off very lightly; I would have been far less generous. ‘They’ve given Alex a good-luck card,’ Debbie said, ‘which they’ve all signed. There’s a twenty-pound note in it so Alex can treat himself.’
I knew she was expecting me to say something positive. ‘That’s nice,’ I said to Alex. ‘We can go shopping and you can buy something you want.’
Alex kept his gaze firmly on the ground, as unimpressed as I was by the gift, which I thought was little recompense for ruining his life.
‘I managed to fit everything into my car,’ Debbie continued. ‘If we left anything behind Rosemary will send it here.’ She rubbed her forehead. She also looked very tired from what must have been a long and emotionally exhausting day for her too. ‘I’ve told Alex I’ll see him here next week one day after school to make sure he’s settled in. I was thinking of Wednesday?’
‘I’ll put it in the diary,’ I said. It was usual practice for the child’s social worker and the carer’s support social worker to visit soon after a child moved in.
‘I’ve also told Alex that if he has any worries or questions to speak to you.’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ I said, throwing Alex a smile, but he didn’t respond. Head hung low, dejected and bewildered, he was a shadow of his former self: the child who’d left me barely two weeks before so full of hope and joy for a bright new future.
‘Do you have everything you need?’ Debbie asked me.
‘Yes.’
‘I think Alex will benefit from a good night’s sleep,’ she said, glancing at him. ‘I can’t imagine he slept much last night.’
I agreed. ‘Adrian will be going up soon as well. I’ll take them up once you’ve gone and they can have a lie-in tomorrow, as it’s Saturday.’
Debbie nodded. ‘Can I have a word?’ Debbie asked me, and then mouthed ‘in private’.
‘Yes, we can go into the front room,’ I said, standing. ‘Alex, would you like to play with some of these toys Adrian has put out while I speak to your social worker?’
Adrian immediately slid out of his chair and went over and squatted on the floor beside the toys. Alex, aware of what he was being asked, reluctantly left the sofa and walked slowly to where the toys were and then sat on the floor beside Adrian. As Debbie and I left the room Adrian was taking the lid off the compendium of games as Alex watched, detached and disinterested.
In the front room I switched on the light and drew out two chairs from the table. Debbie collapsed into one of them with a heartfelt sigh.
‘Would you like a coffee or tea?’ I offered.
‘No, thank you. I won’t be too long – I need to get home once I’ve finished here. Just to bring you up to date. I saw Alex yesterday with Rosemary present and I explained to him that he wouldn’t be able to live with her and Edward any longer and would be returning here. It came as a complete shock to him. He had no idea. The colour drained from his face and he began to tremble. I thought he was going to pass out or have a fit. We gave him a glass of water and he slowly recovered, but he’s remained very quiet since.’
‘Hardly surprising,’ I said.
‘No. Rosemary had the decency to apologize to Alex that it hadn’t worked out. I telephoned the sc
hool earlier before I collected Alex, and his teacher said he’d been withdrawn all day. She’ll keep an eye on him.’ I nodded. ‘When I collected him this evening only Rosemary was in again. Edward was at work and James was at a friend’s house. Rosemary said they’d both said goodbye this morning before they left.
‘Did Rosemary say any more about why they were giving up on Alex?’
‘No. Only that they realized once he’d moved in that they’d made a big mistake and adoption wasn’t for them. She also said she thought it would be easy to find Alex a new home.’ Debbie sighed again, this time from exasperation. ‘I told her it didn’t work like that and matching a child to suitable adopters was a lengthy, in-depth process, not to mention the effect all this would have on Alex. I just hope his birth mother doesn’t get wind of this.’
‘Oh?’ I asked. Because Alex had come to me for a short bridging placement I didn’t have as much background information as I would have had if he’d been staying longer.
‘His mother opposed Alex being adopted,’ Debbie explained. ‘We had to go to court for an order. She’s already made one complaint against us. If this gets out there’ll be another one.’ This was the worst-case scenario – a child placed for adoption against the mother’s wishes, only to have it fail. ‘I assume he can stay here for as long as necessary?’ Debbie asked. ‘Jill said he could.’
‘Yes.’
‘Thank you. I think that’s everything. Do you have any questions?’
‘I’m guessing it’s too early to think about long-term plans for Alex?’
She nodded. ‘One of the meetings I’ll need to arrange is with the permanency team to look at options, and we’ll need to hold a placement disruption meeting. I think you will be asked to that.’
‘All right.’
‘So you’ll be okay over the weekend?’
