Nobody’s Son

by Cathy Glass

  In some ways it was easier without Edward and Rosemary present. I felt less inhibited in choosing my words as I continued to describe Alex’s behaviour since he had returned to live with me: his tears, nightmares, anger and deep feelings of rejection and that nobody loved or wanted him. When I’d finished the chairperson asked, ‘Have you received an appointment from CAMHS yet?’

  ‘No,’ I said.

  She thanked me and then asked Alex’s teacher, Miss Cork, to speak. As she and I were in almost daily contact, I knew most of what she told the meeting – the change in Alex’s personality and his performance at school, that he wasn’t joining in class activities as he used to and was struggling to concentrate. She mentioned his angry outbursts and that he’d tried to run away, but the saddest part of all was when she described him alone in the playground, not wanting to play with his friends. She finished by saying that she hoped he would turn a corner soon, but felt that his last move had proved one too many for a child with such an unsettled past. Having given her report, she then asked if she could leave so she could return to her class, and the chairperson agreed and thanked her for coming.

  The chairperson now went round the room so that everyone had a chance to contribute. There wasn’t really anything new; it had all been said. When it was the turn of Shanice and her manager from the permanency team they confirmed that they were family-finding for Alex and were looking for an experienced foster carer with no similar-aged children, but they hadn’t identified a suitable family yet. When they’d finished the chairperson returned to Debbie and asked if Alex’s mother had been informed of the adoption disruption. Debbie said that she hadn’t been and there were no plans to do so. As a matter of procedure the chairperson then said that Alex’s case would need to be presented back to the panel, and Debbie’s manager nodded. She then thanked us all for attending and closed the meeting. It was now 1.15 p.m. – we’d been there for over two hours, and I don’t think I was the only one who felt emotionally exhausted. The room quickly emptied. I left with Jill, and on the way out she reminded me to telephone the agency if I needed any advice or support, otherwise she’d be in touch again later in the week. She was going straight to another meeting and hoped to pick up a sandwich for lunch on the way.

  I drove home in a gloomy mood, going over what had been said at the meeting. I hadn’t meant to upset Rosemary and Edward, and I thought they might have been feeling guilty, which was why they’d gone on the offensive. However, I was concerned that if I hadn’t spoken up Alex could have been labelled with behavioural problems. He might still be, for the main reason given for the adoption failing was the friction between James and Alex. I hadn’t been to an adoption disruption meeting before and I wondered how useful it had been, both in respect of planning for Alex’s future and changing the social services’ procedure in future adoption cases.

  However, my gloom lifted the moment I arrived home and Paula, pleased to see me, ran into my arms and gave me a big hug and a kiss. Mum had lunch ready and as we sat around the table, talking as we ate, I was again reminded of how lucky I was to have a stable, loving family of my own.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Conflicting Emotions

  We had another rocky week with Alex and then his behaviour started to improve. There was no obvious reason for the change, so I put it down to the healing effect of time and that he was starting to feel settled again. He began playing with Adrian, Paula and Toscha – whom he’d also been ignoring – and talking to us all more. Miss Cork said she’d seen an improvement at school, and while we were both very pleased we knew that at some point in the not-too-distant future Alex would have to move again. How would he cope with that? Not very well, I thought, and Miss Cork, only half-jokingly, asked, ‘I don’t suppose you could keep him?’

  ‘I wish!’ I said with a smile.

  But to be honest, it had been on my mind since the adoption breakdown. The next time Jill visited I brought up the matter, and asked her if she thought there was any chance of Alex being allowed to stay with me as a long-term foster placement. She didn’t hold out much hope.

  ‘The social services are going to need to be ultra-careful after what happened with James,’ she said. ‘I’ll speak to Debbie and find out where they are on this. If they can’t find the perfect match then they might consider you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I don’t mind being second best. And what happened with James wasn’t Alex’s fault.’

  ‘I know.’

  Jill telephoned three days later, having spoken to Debbie, and the news was worse than I’d anticipated. Not only would I not be considered for keeping Alex, but a long-term foster family had now been found and Debbie and Shanice were going to visit them the following week. Jill gave me a moment to digest this and then said, ‘The match looks very good on paper.’

  ‘So did the last one,’ I replied caustically.

  ‘This family are different,’ Jill said. ‘They’ve been fostering for twenty years and have three teenagers, one of whom has Down’s syndrome. Alex would be the youngest by seven years. They live in H—.’ She named the neighbouring town, which was about a thirty-minute drive away.

  I couldn’t argue; it wasn’t my decision.

  ‘If it goes ahead, you’ll meet the couple once the match has been approved by the permanency panel.’ Which I knew could take weeks, if not months.

  We visited my parents at the weekend and Alex related well to them. They were pleased. ‘He’s such a poppet,’ Mum said, seeing the real Alex for the first time.

  Debbie visited us the following week for one of her statutory visits, and she asked me to stay while she talked to Alex. She told him she was pleased to see him looking so well and happy again, and that what happened at Rosemary and Edward’s was now past and it was important that they concentrated on the future. She gradually led the way into telling him they were looking very hard for a wonderful family for him where he would be the youngest, so he would have older brothers and sisters. While she spoke in general terms, I knew she was referring to the family that had already been identified and would go to panel soon – this was the first step in preparing him. Similar would have happened before with Edward and Rosemary. ‘Won’t that be nice?’ she finished.

  Alex looked as unimpressed as I felt, but I set my face to a positive smile and, wearing my professional foster-carer hat, said brightly, ‘That sounds fantastic, doesn’t it? I always wanted older brothers and sisters.’ Debbie threw me an appreciative look.

  Debbie didn’t say anything more specific to Alex about the family; she’d wait until the match had been approved by the panel. After she’d gone Alex stopped playing with his toys, didn’t want much dinner and then that night he had a nightmare – the first for some weeks. Of course the talk of a new family and having to move again had unsettled him – it was only natural. He was very quiet for a few days, wouldn’t talk to me about his worries or Debbie’s visit, and then slowly recovered. Children are able to bounce back many times, but there is a cut-off point.

  It was April now. Spring had arrived with the promise of summer not far behind. Birds were busy nest-building in the hedgerows, spring flowers bloomed and the trees were bursting into new life, budding fresh green leaves. Alex was his old self again, although he never spoke of Edward, Rosemary and James or what the future held, which probably wasn’t altogether healthy. Our lives continued reasonably smoothly and then at the beginning of June I heard that the match had been approved by the panel. Also the appointment for CAMHS finally arrived. Because we would be starting the introductions soon and Alex would have that to cope with, followed by another move, it was decided it would be better for him to wait until after he’d moved and settled in before commencing therapy with CAMHS. This is normal practice in England.

  The planning meeting to work out the timetable of the introductions was in my diary and Jill telephoned the day before with more details of the couple I would soon meet: Gareth and Gwen. They were in their fifties and had t
wo boys – Mark, fourteen; Taylor, sixteen – and a girl, Kaylee, nineteen, who had Down’s syndrome.

  ‘Sounds like they’ve got their hands full already,’ I said a little sourly.

  ‘You’re not the only one to think that,’ Jill said. ‘A panel member asked how they’d cope and why they wanted to adopt again.’

  ‘Sorry? Did you say adopt?’

  ‘Yes. They want to adopt Alex.’

  ‘I thought they were foster carers and this was a long-term foster placement.’

  ‘They have been fostering, but they found that all the social worker visits unsettled the boys. The boys had severe behavioural issues when they first arrived, having been in and out of care all their lives. Gareth and Gwen worked wonders with them; they settled down and they went on to adopt them.’

  ‘And that’s what they’re planning for Alex? Not that he has behavioural issues.’

  ‘Yes,’ Jill said.

  ‘There is no way I can sell another adoptive family to Alex, not after what happened the last time,’ I said bluntly. ‘And Debbie has already told Alex she’s looking for a long-term foster family for him.’

  ‘I know. Gareth and Gwen are aware of Alex’s history and what happened with the Andrews. They’ve agreed to take him as a foster placement to begin with, with a view to adopting him when the time is right. It’s what happened with Kaylee.’

  ‘Kaylee – with Down’s syndrome. Is she adopted too?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I was starting to feel a grudging admiration for Gareth and Gwen, although I still had big doubts.

  ‘Supposing the time is never right for Alex to be adopted,’ I said. ‘What then? If they don’t want to foster, would he have another move?’

  ‘Hopefully not. Although of course nothing can be guaranteed.’ Didn’t I know it!

  ‘And you say their two boys, Mark and Taylor, had behavioural issues and were very unsettled when they first arrived?’

  ‘Yes, and for some time after. The couple are highly experienced and competent. If Alex does become unsettled again they’ll be able to deal with it, just as you have. Debbie said they are a very kind and caring couple but can be firm when necessary. They have no illusions and are down to earth, so let’s give them a chance tomorrow, shall we? And then take it from there. I’ll meet you just before ten o’clock in reception at the council offices.’

  It was like a flash of déjà vu the following morning as I parked my car outside the council offices and met Jill on the way in. With our security passes around our necks we made our way up to the second floor. The meeting was in the same room as the first adoption planning meeting, which seemed a bad omen to me. Did I hope for a last-minute reprieve whereby, for some as-yet-undisclosed reason, I would be allowed to keep Alex and we’d all live happily ever after? Yes, of course I did. It’s most foster carers’ dream come true to be able to keep all the children they foster, but realistically that wasn’t going to happen.

  What did happen was that as Jill and I stepped into the room we were greeted with light convivial chatter and smiling faces. My gaze immediately went to the couple sitting at the far side of the table, whom I deduced must be Alex’s new carers. They met my critical gaze with a smile and then came round to greet me. And sometimes when you meet someone for the first time, before they’ve even spoken a word you know they are going to be OK.

  ‘Hello, love, so pleased to meet you. I’m Gareth,’ he said, warmly shaking my hand. ‘We’ve just been hearing what a great job you’ve been doing with young Alex.’ Not patronizing but genuine. Taller than average, with broad shoulders and a rugged jawline, Gareth was dressed casually in corduroy trousers and a knitted jersey. He had the confidence of a man at ease with himself and others.

  ‘Nice to meet you too,’ I said.

  Then Gwen took my hand between hers – not really a handshake, more an affectionate embrace – and, looking me straight in the eyes, said, ‘You’re going to miss Alex, but we’ll be keeping in touch, won’t we?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ I said.

  She was wearing a cosy woollen dress and cardigan and carried a few extra pounds, which gave her a cuddly, mumsy appearance. Good-natured, with a kind, open face that suggested she was used to smiling.

  Jill and I took our seats at the table and the meeting began with the introductions. There were nine of us: Gareth and Gwen and their support social worker, Debbie and her team manager, Shanice and her team manager, and Jill and me, all with our diaries ready in front of us. Debbie led the meeting and we began with a general discussion about how Alex was now, during which I gave Gwen and Gareth some recent photographs I’d brought with me for this purpose. They’d already seen an older photo of Alex, so they knew what he looked like, but these were up to date. They would show them to their children this evening when they told them more about Alex, for they, too, had to be thoroughly prepared. Having Alex come to live with them would be life-changing for the whole family. In return, Gwen produced a small photograph album that would be given to Alex later, just as I’d done with Rosemary and Edward. However, this time Debbie said she would come to my house this afternoon after school to tell Alex about Gwen and Gareth and show him the album then. This would be the start of the introductions.

  Jill said it would be useful if Gwen and Gareth could tell me a little about themselves and their family and what they liked to do in their spare time so that I could answer any questions Alex might have later. Gwen began by saying that they hadn’t been able to have children of their own, so they’d started fostering over twenty years ago. To begin with she was the main caregiver while Gareth went out to work. ‘But when we started caring for very challenging children,’ she said, ‘Gareth cut his hours at the factory, and for the last eight years he’s been working part time so he can help with the children.’

  Gareth joined in, describing their home life, and when they talked about how naughty Mark and Taylor had been when they’d first arrived they spoke with an indulgent smile, as if boys will be boys. I saw a confidence in their partnership, which suggested that whatever was thrown at them they would deal with it and come through as a family. ‘The boys had had so many moves and upsets before coming to us,’ Gareth said. ‘I told them from day one that this would be their last move. They didn’t believe me to begin with. Taylor had lost count of the number of homes he’d lived in, but he reckoned it was over fifty, which was confirmed by the social services records.’

  When Gwen spoke of Kaylee, their adopted nineteen-year-old daughter with Down’s syndrome, a tear came to her eye. ‘Her mum died when she was twelve. She came to us the same day, sobbing her heart out and not able to understand why she couldn’t stay at home and live with her mummy. It was heart-breaking. She’d been with her mum when she’d died and had sat beside her, trying to wake her up, and had then gone to a neighbour. She came as a short-term placement initially, and our first attempt to adopt her was blocked by an aunt who said she was making plans to look after her, but nothing came of it. Two years later we applied again and were successful.’ Gwen smiled at the recollection. ‘We threw a little party for family and friends. We had Mark and Taylor with us by then. Kaylee is such a kind, gentle soul, although she doesn’t stand any nonsense. She puts the boys in their place, I can tell you, sometimes better than I do.’

  They talked about their family holidays and activities and days out. As they spoke I warmed to them more and more, and gradually put many of my concerns aside. We then went on to plan the timetable of introduction as we had with Rosemary and Edward. It was similar – spread over two weeks – although there were a few extra visits, as everyone agreed we needed to take it slowly to give Alex a chance to adjust. It could be longer than two weeks if necessary. Debbie would start the ball rolling with her visit after school today, and then tomorrow Gwen and Gareth would telephone and speak to Alex, just to say hello and have a little chat for a few minutes. The following evening they would visit for an hour and then come to dinner the next day. Alex wou
ldn’t meet Kaylee, Mark and Taylor until the end of the week so that he had a chance to get to know Gwen and Gareth first and wasn’t overwhelmed. At each stage Debbie and Shanice would phone us for updates and then adjust the timetable if necessary. However, I should say here that although we could prolong the introductions if necessary, at some point Alex would definitely be moving to his new home, as it had been decided by the social services and approved by the permanency panel as being in his best interests. It doesn’t happen often, but there are times when a child has to be physically carried into the car if they don’t want to move – whether it is to another carer or home to a relative. It’s different with older children who would ‘vote with their feet’ if moved against their wishes, but younger children in care have the decisions on where they will live made for them.

  By the end of the meeting I only had two main concerns left and they weren’t small: one, that Alex might reject the whole idea of going to a new family, and his behaviour and well-being would therefore suffer a huge setback. The other was that he might feel overwhelmed and swamped by having three teenagers in the house, all with their own needs. I had no doubt that Gwen and Gareth and their family were wonderful, but how would Alex fit in? I couldn’t imagine Mark and Taylor having much time for a seven-year-old who may be acting up, and how would Alex and Kaylee relate to each other? I couldn’t picture it at all. But the meeting ended as convivially as it had begun, with warm handshakes all round and calls of ‘see you soon’ as we said goodbye.

  That afternoon, when I collected Alex from school I told him Debbie was coming to see him at 4.30. ‘Not again,’ he sighed. ‘The other kids at school don’t have all these social worker visits.’