A Long Way From Home Read online

  ‘You seem to think that might not be correct,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, I don’t doubt that Anna has failed to bond properly, presumably because of the neglect she suffered in those first few years. She displays all the symptoms of an attachment disorder, and we’ve asked for the education psychologist to be involved. But in my opinion what that child needs more than anything, and has done from the start, is tough love. By that I mean firm boundaries for good behaviour, and love and support to enable her to move on from the past, rather than all that stuff about keeping her in touch with her roots.’

  ‘I see,’ I said, taken aback by her directness.

  ‘I know what I’m talking about,’ Mrs Taylor continued. ‘I’ve had first-hand experience. My sister has two adopted boys, brothers. They were six and eight when they went to live with her and her husband. The horrors those lads had been through were unbelievable. The parents were sent to prison for what they did. The boys were in care for a year with four different sets of carers, all unable to control their behaviour, before my sister and her husband adopted them. Feral was the word that came to mind. Their behaviour and problems were far worse than anything I’ve seen in Anna, but the difference is my sister had experience of working with disturbed children. Instead of feeling sorry for them and pandering to them, they were very firm from the start. They had to be – the boys were uncontrollable. They made sure they felt safe and set about changing their behaviour through a system of rewards and sanctions.’ I nodded.

  ‘The social worker kept pushing for the boys to keep in touch with their natural parents, even visit them in prison! My sister and her husband refused, saying it would undermine what they were doing and hamper the boys’ chances of being able to move on from the past. They always answered their questions honestly and the lads knew that if they did want to see their natural parents they could, but their past wasn’t kept alive like Anna’s has been. Eight years on and both boys are doing well. The older one, who was more badly beaten, has learning difficulties, but they are both happy. As my sister said, the past is past and the kids have their whole future ahead of them. I see so many comparisons between my nephews and Anna.’ Mrs Taylor’s eyes filled and she reached for a tissue. ‘You see, Anna is close to my heart,’ she said, a little embarrassed. We were silent for a moment.

  ‘Anna has come with a framed photograph of her birth mother, which I put on a shelf in her bedroom,’ I said, now wondering if I’d done the right thing.

  ‘She’s brought photographs of her birth mother and what she refers to as “my own country” into school to show us. If you ask me I think her past is ruining the present and possibly her future, although I’m sure her social worker would disagree. But what can we do to help Anna? Her life is in even more turmoil now.’

  ‘Does she have any friends?’ I asked.

  ‘Not really. We are trying to teach her to make friends, but Anna can be very bossy and manipulative. She wants it all her own way, which from my understanding is what has been happening at home. She screams when she doesn’t get what she wants and it scares other children. She has also been quite cruel to some of the children. Her behaviour became so disruptive last term that we agreed with her mother to put her on a reduced timetable for now.’

  I nodded. ‘I’ve heard her scream,’ I said, ‘for most of last night, because I wouldn’t let her sleep in my bed. Does she really still sleep with her parents every night?’

  ‘I believe so,’ Mrs Taylor said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Her father had been sleeping in the spare room before he left. Anna was quite victorious when she told me. It’s not good for a child to hold that sort of power. It’s not good for the parents’ relationship either.’ She paused, collecting her thoughts. ‘In respect of Anna’s education, her learning is behind what it should be. I’ll ask Lauren Rich, her TA, to give you a copy of Anna’s Individual Education Plan.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ll help Anna with her school work. I have two school-aged children myself, so I always make time in the evening for homework.’

  ‘Good. Although be prepared for a struggle. Her mother used to say that if Anna refused to do something, there was nothing she could do to change her mind. She often came in without her homework done. Is Anna going to see her mother?’

  ‘Not at present.’

  She looked at me thoughtfully. ‘If Anna doesn’t return home to live with her parents, will she be able to stay with you permanently?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know,’ I said. ‘It will depend on the social services.’

  She gave a half-hearted nod. ‘I need to go to my class now. It’s after two o’clock. Anna can go straight home with you, but please feel free to see me when you want. Just let the office or Miss Rich know.’

  ‘Thank you so much,’ I said. ‘You’ve been very helpful.’ We stood and left the room.

  ‘If you wait in reception, Miss Rich will bring Anna to you.’

  I thanked Mrs Taylor again, said goodbye and returned to reception. Anna was already there with Miss Rich.

  ‘You’re late,’ Anna said rudely. I was going to let it go but then she grabbed my arm, digging in her nails. ‘You’re late!’ she said again.

  ‘Don’t do that, please,’ I said, releasing my arm. ‘It hurts. I’ve been to see your teacher.’

  ‘Why?’ she demanded.

  ‘Anna!’ Miss Rich cautioned.

  ‘To hear how well you are doing,’ I said, ‘and how I can help you with your school work. Come on, say goodbye, it’s time to go home.’

  ‘I haven’t got a home,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, you have. It’s with me for now, and I’ve made your room look really nice.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Memories

  Despite all my best efforts in trying to make Anna’s bedroom look comfortable and homely, she didn’t like it. To be honest, given how objectionable she was making herself, I’d have been more surprised if she had liked it, but her only comment was quite telling. ‘That’s my real mother,’ she said, picking up the framed photograph of her birth mother.

  ‘She’s your birth mother,’ I said. ‘But your real parents are your mummy and daddy, the ones who adopted you.’

  She glared at me as if I’d just blasphemed. ‘You don’t know!’

  ‘Anna, I know your mummy and daddy must love you a lot, as you do them, but something has gone wrong between you. How much do you remember of the time before you came to England?’

  ‘Lots!’ she said fiercely. ‘I know my real mummy.’

  ‘Do you really remember her or is it that your mummy and daddy have talked to you about her and showed you photographs?’

  She looked confused, as well she might, and I was mindful of what Mrs Taylor had said about the past intruding into and damaging the present. ‘None of your business,’ Anna said at last.

  ‘Don’t be rude, love. It’s not necessary.’

  But Anna’s past was my business. If I was going to be of any help to her, I needed to know and understand what her experiences and memories were. I had to try to break down the barriers that Anna had erected to protect herself; not all at once, but little by little over the coming weeks.

  I hadn’t seen Anna smile yet or allow herself to be pleased with something. I appreciated that she had a lot on her mind, but most children would have shown a glimmer of pleasure when something pleased them. A small example of this was the chocolate milkshake I made for her when we arrived home after collecting Adrian and Paula from school. She specifically asked for it when I offered everyone a drink, and clearly enjoyed it, but when I said, ‘You liked that, didn’t you?’ she scowled and pushed the glass away.

  ‘No!’

  When she wasn’t scowling or looking angry her face was blank and expressionless.

  Anna had nothing to do with Adrian and Paula that evening and treated them as though they weren’t there, although I saw her looking at them occasionally, and also at our cat, Toscha, whom I kept a close eye on. I didn’t want her meeti
ng the same fate as the last carer’s cat. Children who are angry will grab and throw anything in sight, regardless of the harm they can do. A disturbed child in a temper is out of control and needs to be stopped for their own sake and for the safety of those around them.

  Anna didn’t have any homework that night and, knowing I wouldn’t be receiving much cooperation from her, and that everyone was tired from the broken night before, I began the children’s bath and bedtime routine early. However, Anna surprised me by actually getting into the bath I had run at the first time of asking. She liked her bath and I think she found the warm water soothing. It was getting her out at the end that proved the challenge. She refused and eventually I had to drain the water, which led to her shouting ‘You can’t do that!’ and ‘I hate you!’ That’s as maybe, I thought, but she did get out.

  Similarly and predictably, Anna didn’t want to sleep in her own bed, and I asked her again if there was a reason. She said, ‘Because I always sleep in the big bed!’

  ‘Not here you don’t, love. We all have our own beds.’

  Then followed a rerun of the night before, with me repeatedly taking her back to her own bed, in between seeing to Adrian and Paula. Anna grew increasingly angry with me as she couldn’t get her own way and threatened to bite and kick me. When she tried to carry out her threat, advancing towards me, I folded her arms across her chest and faced her away so she couldn’t kick or bite me, then I held her until her anger subsided. More like a hug than a restraint. She was only slight and I’d had training in holding a child who was going to harm themselves or someone else – an inexperienced carer might not. Possibly her parents didn’t physically stop her either, as an angry child who is out of control is frightening, but the person who is most scared of their behaviour is the child themselves. Having someone control their anger is reassuring and helps them. Eventually she calmed down and I returned her to her bed again.

  To my great relief, clearly exhausted, Anna didn’t get out of bed again after 11.30, and when I checked on her she was fast asleep on her side with her thumb in her mouth. I viewed this as progress. If I could shave an hour off this performance every night, by the end of the week Anna should be asleep in her own bed at a reasonable time. Well, that was the theory at least.

  I checked on Adrian and he’d gone off to sleep with his pillow over his head to block out the noise. I took it off, eased it under his head and kissed him goodnight. I went into Paula’s room and she was just going off to sleep again after the last disturbance.

  ‘I don’t think I like that girl,’ she muttered sleepily.

  ‘Don’t you worry. She’ll get better with time,’ I said, and stroked her forehead until she was fast asleep.

  Anna slept through, and when I woke her the following morning and said it was time to get dressed ready for breakfast, she scowled at me but did as I asked. I viewed this as another small improvement.

  The school run went reasonably smoothly. I tried to engage Anna in conversation as I drove to her school, but she ignored me so I switched on the radio. We waited in the car until it was time to go in, when Miss Rich met us in reception. We exchanged a polite good morning and I checked with her that Anna hadn’t had any homework the night before. She looked surprised.

  ‘I left it at school by mistake,’ Anna said quickly. That wasn’t what she’d told me, nor apparently Miss Rich.

  ‘I asked you before you left yesterday if your homework was in your bag,’ Miss Rich said to Anna, ‘and you told me it was. Sorry,’ she said to me. ‘In future I’ll check myself.’

  ‘No worries,’ I said. ‘We’ll do what she missed tonight.’

  If Anna thought she was going to get the better of two intelligent adults then she was wrong. She was behind with her learning and for her own good she needed to do her homework.

  I drove home, where I had three hours before I had to leave again to collect Anna from school. Clearly, while she was on a reduced timetable my days were going to be very short. My priority today was to sort and clear Anna’s bags from the front room. It’s unsettling for a child to see their belongings in bags, as it suggests they might have to move again soon. However, before I had the chance to get started, Jill telephoned to see how Anna was settling in and also to make a date to visit me. As my supervising social worker she visited every month, when we discussed the child I was fostering and my training needs, and she checked my log notes and generally monitored my fostering. Lori telephoned straight after Jill, asking for an update on Anna and also giving me the date of Anna’s first review. It was nearly an hour before I was able to tackle the bags in the front room. The first one I came across contained Anna’s Life Story Book.

  Children who are in long-term foster care or who are adopted often have a Life Story Book. It is considered good social-work and foster-carer practice and is a short record of the child’s past for the child. It includes photographs, a brief narrative, and memorabilia that can be mounted in the book, such as examples of the child’s drawings, school merit certificates and cinema tickets. Larger items that can’t be included in the book are often put in a Memory Box. These photographs and keepsakes supplement the child’s own memories so they can retain a sense of their past.

  Anna’s Life Story Book was subtitled ‘Our Adoption Journey’. I was immediately transported back to a happier place and time: a photograph of Elaine standing in a child’s bedroom and smiling as she packed children’s clothes and toys into a suitcase. The caption read: We are taking lots of warm winter clothes for our darling daughter, Anna. Mummy and Daddy are so excited! The next photo was of Ian loading the boot of their car with the caption: Will all our luggage fit in? On our way to the airport. The next photo was a selfie of Elaine and Ian outside the airport with their luggage stacked high on a trolley. Then one of the departure board where they’d drawn an arrow marking their flight. Their boarding passes were mounted on the next page. Then a photograph through the plane window with the caption: The sun rises on a beautiful day. One hour to landing! I sensed their mounting anticipation and excitement.

  Next was a photograph of a man called Danny standing beside a cab and I read that he was the best driver ever. Then a photograph of the orphanage Anna had come to know as home. Grim and uninviting at best, in winter it appeared cold and bleak and quite haunting, surrounded by bare trees. I looked at it for a few moments and then turned the page. I was greeted with a photograph of Anna, aged two and a half, sitting on a beanbag between Ian and Elaine. A younger, smaller version of Anna – and her hair was much shorter now – but her clear blue eyes were unmistakable. Below was written: Mummy and Daddy visited you every afternoon. We always brought toys and activities but you preferred playing with our phones! On the opposite page was a photo of Anna with a phone held high in each hand while her parents looked on, smiling indulgently. There were more photographs of The playroom where we spent so much time, including a close-up of a brightly coloured mural on one wall.

  I turned the page again, to a photo of Elaine and Ian looking very smart in suits with the caption: On our way to court. A very special day when Anna officially became our daughter. The next photo was similar to the framed one of Anna’s birth mother that I’d unpacked and put in Anna’s bedroom. I now realized it had been taken outside the court. The caption read: Anna’s mother. A lovely lady, being very brave after the court hearing. We will never forget her. A lump rose in my throat and I looked more closely at the photo. The same blue eyes as Anna but trying hard to smile. I could see how brave she was having to be as she struggled to maintain her composure. What had been going through her mind as she held it together long enough for the photograph to be taken? The last picture, the one Anna would remember her by. It was heartbreaking and I swallowed hard.

  I turned the page: photographs of Anna in their hotel room. A foldaway bed was beside the double bed but Anna was in that instead and playing with a mobile phone. Then a picture of her watching television, and the three of them having breakfast in the hotel. This
was followed by pages of photographs of the area in which they must have stayed with captions beneath explaining where it was. For example: Daddy pushing Anna on the swing in R— Park, and so on. The legal paperwork must then have been completed, for the next page contained a photograph of Anna’s passport stamped with a visa, and one of her new birth certificate.

  Then began their journey home – the three of them. A photo of Danny unloading their luggage at the airport, the departure board with an arrow marking their flight. Three boarding cards: Mr Ian Hudson, Mrs Elaine Hudson and Miss Anastasia Hudson. I knew from the Essential Information Form that Anna’s name had been shortened from Anastasia. Then a picture of Anna asleep on the plane, and then they were home – Tired but very happy. There were photos of their first Christmas together, with Anna opening a sack full of presents, then beside a gaily decorated Christmas tree, although she wasn’t smiling in any of the pictures. The three of them wearing party hats and having their Christmas dinner, followed by a photo dated 28 December and entitled Anna’s extended family. It showed about a dozen or so people, including three children, posing in what must have been a relative’s house decorated for Christmas.

  The last photograph was headed Happy New Year and showed Anna with her parents beside a picture of Big Ben striking midnight. They were raising their glasses to see in the New Year. Beneath was the caption: A New Year, a new start. And that was it. Their adoption journey had ended and I assumed the photographs that followed in the last two years since the adoption were in their family album.