Grace, page 25
‘No,’ said Laura, speaking for the first time. ‘Sorry for interrupting, Mary. But no, that’s not right, Michelle. Your grandmother had no choice.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes…’ said Laura, looking to Mary for support.
‘Yes. Your grandmother became ill,’ said Mary.
‘Ill?’ Michelle asked, her throat tightening. ‘What kind of ill? Is that why she never even came to see us in the home, even though she’d promised us she would?’
‘Yes,’ replied Mary. ‘She had been diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer. She’d hoped she’d recover and be able to get you back, but doctors had found it too late, and she declined rapidly. She didn’t want you to see her like that, and she knew that you’d end up in care anyway, if she died. She wanted stability for you both. She felt you’d been through enough, had too many changes in your life up to that point and didn’t want to unsettle you.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me that was why?’
‘She made us promise not to tell you. I’m sorry, I really do think we should have. I apologise for the decisions that were made. The staff felt you were too young.’
‘So… she died? The cancer killed her?’
Michelle looked at Mary and Laura. Their faces were pale.
‘I’m so sorry, Michelle, yes. She died,’ said Laura, gently. ‘A few months after she took you to the home. I’m so sorry. I really, really wish they’d told you at the time.’
Michelle felt the floor fall away from beneath her. She’d spent most of her life hating a woman for something it turned out she had not actually wanted to do. She had actually wished her grandmother dead on many occasions. And now she realised that she’d been innocent of all charges she’d laid against her. But she was dead, anyway, despite that. Which meant she’d never see her again, to say sorry. Michelle wept freely, the memory of the only woman who’d ever really loved her, a woman she’d wholly misunderstood and absolutely wronged, stabbing at her heart.
‘And of course, a few months after you arrived at the home, just after your grandmother died, adoptive parents were found for Grace…’ said Mary, almost whispering.
‘You took her from me,’ Michelle shouted. ‘You took my little sister from me. And I didn’t even get to say goodbye.’ Her face crumpled then and she began to cry quietly.
‘We should not have separated you,’ said Mary, choosing her words carefully. ‘We would not do it now. But in those days, it was much harder to find new parents for older children, and it was felt better to adopt out a younger sibling, than for you both to grow up in care.’
A tissue was held out under Michelle’s nose and she accepted it. She blew her nose loudly and mopped up the tears from her cheeks and chest.
‘Take deep breaths,’ urged Gillian. ‘And here, take a sip of my water.’
Michelle drank, increasingly thankful for the wise woman by her side. She was struggling to process what she’d been told.
‘Another thing,’ she said, when the tears had subsided. She had decided to ask a question she’d suppressed long ago, as today seemed to be the day for unearthing things long buried.
‘I lived with a couple for a while. The last foster carers I lived with. They were nice. Friendly. They were called the Richardsons. Leo and… Mark, I think they were? I got kicked out of there though. Because I was naughty. I was wondering whether I could get a message to them? I want to say sorry. I’ve always felt guilty about mucking them around…’
Michelle was aware of another silence that had flooded into the room.
‘I’m so sorry, Michelle,’ said Mary, pulling down her shirt to smooth out some non-existent creases, ‘that they didn’t tell you the truth about that, either.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I didn’t know this, Michelle – it wasn’t in my files. I thought you knew. You were not removed because you were badly behaved. Leonora and Mark were very experienced foster carers, they have looked after many troubled young people over the years. The file says you were moved for logistical and financial reasons.’
‘For what?’
‘There was apparently a spare place in the care home, your social worker was visiting there regularly anyway, and… so it made sense for you to go there instead. I’m so sorry. I was unaware they had told you something else. I will make a note and follow that up immediately. But of course you can write to them, I’m very happy to pass on anything you wish me to. They are still well, still fostering and still living in Malvern.’
Michelle felt a mixture of relief that she was not to blame, combined with a rage she didn’t know what to do with.
‘You liars,’ she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘You never thought to tell me any of this, did you? Just left me wondering. Fucking liars.’
‘Do you want to continue this another time?’ asked Mary, her voice now soft. ‘I appreciate this is a huge amount to take in.’
Gillian was now rubbing Michelle’s back. Normally she’d try to shrug her off, but right now, it was kind of comforting.
‘No. I want to talk about this now,’ Michelle said. ‘I hate coming in to see you bitches.’ She saw Mary flinch, but Laura, to her credit, did not. Marion was still sitting placidly in the corner, writing the occasional few words down in her notebook. What was she writing, Michelle wondered? ‘This girl is a complete fruit loop,’ maybe?
‘Where is my sister, then? Where the fuck is she? Is she dead too?’ she shouted, not caring that everyone in the entire building could probably hear her, and not caring that this set Marion off on a flurry of writing.
‘We’re not sure,’ replied Mary.
‘Not… sure?’ asked Michelle, her stomach churning.
‘Oh, we know who adopted her. That’s not the issue,’ said Laura, quickly. ‘But we’ve looked into it, and the family emigrated to Australia about twelve years ago,’ Laura continued. ‘We’ve sent out feelers to our counterparts in Australia. We’re confident we’ll find her,’ she said, noting Michelle’s distress. ‘We will let you know as soon as we do.’
‘But it’s important to stress that we can only put you in touch with her if she wants that to happen,’ Mary added, her voice calm and measured. She’s done this before, Michelle thought. How many times?
Michelle considered how her sister might be feeling. What if she had spent her whole life blaming Michelle for not preventing their separation – just as she had blamed their grandmother? Or what if she couldn’t even remember her, and had no interest in finding her at all?
‘So, she could say no,’ said Michelle. ‘I mean, she might not want to see me. But could I write to her too? To explain? Could you give it to her?’
‘We could certainly try to give it to her, when they find her,’ Mary said.
Michelle thought then of her failed attempts at passing her English GCSE. She didn’t find writing easy. Or reading, for that matter. She was useless at both. What chance did she have of writing something her sister would even be able to read, let alone be convinced by?
‘Right,’ she said, sounding less convinced. Her initial burst of optimism at the news that her sister was still out there, somewhere, on the other side of the world, had faded fast. This wasn’t going to work, was it? She was never going to see her sister again. Even if they found her, she might be so happy in her new life, she’d have no interest in meeting her deadbeat older sister.
‘We can discuss this when we have an idea where she is,’ said Mary, her voice gentler. ‘There’s plenty of time to get something together. We can help you write it.’
‘I’ll help,’ said Gillian. It was the first time she’d spoken during the meeting. ‘If you want me to?’
Michelle nodded, relief flooding through her. She definitely needed help.
‘Good,’ said Mary. ‘Now, I appreciate that this is a huge amount to take in, so please tell us to stop the meeting if you feel like you need to. But we wanted to take the opportunity to talk to you about the support that’s available to you now. We want to help you. As you know, under the Care Covenant, we will offer support to you until you are twenty-five. We can offer drug rehab if you need it? Drug counselling?’
‘I don’t need none of that,’ said Michelle. ‘I didn’t take any when I was expecting. I got myself off them. I can keep away, ’specially now I’m with Gillian and Mike.’
Michelle was trying to calm down and be polite, as Gillian had told her to do. She was still furious underneath, but she had a higher prize to think about now – Grace. She had to keep it together for her.
‘Okay. That’s good, and impressive, if you don’t mind me saying so. That shows real commitment.’ Michelle shrugged. It hadn’t been easy – Rob had kept offering her stuff – but the baby had somehow trumped everything. Even her own needs. ‘Then how about support finding accommodation? Training? You could go back to college? And we could help you apply for benefits?’
Michelle took a deep breath and pulled herself up in her chair. ‘I dunno about that. Maybe. The thing is – I’ve made up my mind. I want to get my baby back,’ she said. ‘I’ll do whatever I have to do to get her.’
Michelle saw a meaningful look pass between Mary and Laura. Marion stopped writing and looked up from her notes.
‘Okay. This is good,’ said Mary. ‘But a big change. Have you thought it through properly? You would need a parenting assessment, a suitable place to live, and Rob would need to be out of the equation. The judge would have to be convinced that the baby would be safe.’
Michelle thought about Rob’s protective embrace; his arm around her at night, guarding her from harm; his resolute support for her when she had decided to give Grace up for adoption. But then she remembered the cigarette burns she’d tried to hide with makeup; the bruises on her thighs and her stomach; and the empty flat, devoid of anything worth selling. He had well and truly left her now, hadn’t he. She would have to manage without him from now on.
‘Yeah, I’ll do whatever it takes. Anything.’
‘Okay. Right. Well, what we’ll do is have a look at housing options. There might be a room available in a mother and baby unit, where you could have some support from the staff there? Would that work?’
A look of misery crept over Michelle’s face. That sounded suspiciously like a care home. She felt sick at the thought of returning, but if it helped to get Grace back, she’d have to do it.
‘If I have to…’
‘They can stay with us,’ said Gillian, suddenly. ‘We can give them a start, at least. Until you can find them a flat.’
Michelle gasped and her hands flew to her mouth. No one had ever done something like that for her. Ever.
‘Well, that would be acceptable to us, pending an independent parenting assessment,’ said Mary, making notes. ‘That would be an independent social worker, who’d visit you where you’re living, and talk to you about how you’d care for Grace. Okay?’
Michelle nodded, fearing that if she opened her mouth, a sob might escape from it.
‘We will be ready,’ said Gillian, picking up the mantle. ‘I’ve cared for several babies over my fostering career. We’ll be fine.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ said Mary. ‘Thank you so much for supporting Michelle. But I must sound a note of caution. Even if Michelle passes the parenting assessment, the judge may still order the adoption to go ahead. She’s only seen her at the contact centre once, she missed the second court hearing, and her history of returning to an abusive partner may also count against her. I’m not saying that’s what’s going to happen, but it could.’
Michelle heard those words and tears began to flood down her face once more. Her mouth emitted a noise that sounded to her like a howl. At that moment, she felt the full impact of her weaknesses and her trademark obstinacy crash down upon her. Because she was a moron. A total loser. A fucking idiot. She had royally messed this up. She deserved everything she got.
‘She’ll get legal aid though, won’t she?’ said Gillian, glaring at Mary. ‘I did a small bit of research before we came. She is entitled to it.’
‘Yes, she will. But that’s not for now. The first thing is the parenting assessment,’ replied Mary. ‘Then you can meet with a solicitor. We have a list…’
Michelle remembered the list that had been thrust at her before the first hearing, and her random choice of Sally Mucklow. She’d been kind, Michelle thought. And she was clever.
‘And the assessment will be fine, no problem,’ said Gillian. ‘It will need to be soon though, won’t it? When is the adoption hearing scheduled for? It must be coming up fast.’
‘Yes, I was just getting to that,’ replied Mary. ‘The date has just come through. The courts have only just gone back to work after Christmas. The resolution hearing, where the judge will try to get everyone to reach an agreement, will be on the second of February. And if that doesn’t work, there will be a final hearing on the sixteenth of February. That means that all of the statements and reports need to be ready by then.’
Michelle, who was sitting next to Gillian with her eyes closed, grasping the now sodden tissue in her fist, made a mental calculation. They had just shy of six weeks to turn this around.
‘We’ll be ready,’ said Gillian, passing Michelle another tissue. ‘I can promise you that.’
22
January 9th
Amelia
Seven weeks until the final hearing
It was snowing; the first snowfall of winter. Through the sash window, Amelia could see some of the younger boys, clad in their regulation school winter coats, bobble hats and woollen gloves, trying to make snowballs from the tiny layer which had begun to settle on the lawn. It wouldn’t be long before those gloves were soaked through, she thought, although they didn’t seem to care. Boys that age seemed to be weather-proof.
She turned around and looked down at Grace, who was asleep in her cot, her arms thrown insouciantly above her head and her legs gathered in like a frog. She seemed to be smiling. She hadn’t a care in the world, Amelia thought, except, perhaps, a small concern about when her next feed was due. And she definitely didn’t care – unlike Amelia – about the unscheduled visit from a social worker which was due any moment. Amelia cared very much about that, because usually she was given several weeks’ notice. In fact, the very thought of the visit was making her tremble.
‘Hello Mrs Howard. Are you and Mr Howard around this morning?’ Gloria had asked, quite formally; her use of ‘Mrs Howard’ stuck out like a sore thumb. They were usually on first-name terms now.
‘He’s teaching. Can it wait until later?’
‘I’m afraid not, Mrs Howard. Would you mind seeing me alone?’
‘No… I suppose that’s okay. Is there something wrong?’
‘I’ll fill you in when I come to see you. See you in about an hour?’
An hour had now elapsed and so Amelia had assumed this position in the nursery, because it was the room that allowed her to monitor their driveway. She’d already tidied up the lounge and wiped down the surfaces in the kitchen, but now her nervous energy was spent and all she could do was stand at the window and wait.
At that moment, a small white hatchback turned into their driveway. She could make out a familiar woman with a finely coiffed head of brown hair behind the wheel. Yes, that’s her, she thought. That’s Gloria.
As the car’s tyres turned over the gravel and came to a slow stop, she walked slowly across the room and down the hall. The doorbell rang as she approached the top of the stairs. She briefly considered not answering it, but that would only postpone whatever news Gloria had come to share. Better to get it over with, she thought. It was coming, whatever she did.
‘Hi,’ she said, opening the door and putting on her bravest face.
‘Hello, Amelia. Thank you for seeing me at such short notice.’
‘That’s okay, Grace is napping. Shall we go up to the living room?’
The social worker nodded and followed Amelia back up the stairs. She gestured to Gloria to take a seat on their two-seater leather sofa.
‘Can I get you anything to drink?’ she asked, robotically.
‘No, I’m fine, thank you, Amelia.’ Amelia considered making herself a strong coffee to cradle – she felt freezing, despite the fact the central heating was on at full blast – but she could see that the social worker was already taking some paperwork out of her bag. Obviously, she wanted to get on with it, whatever ‘it’ was, she thought.
‘So – you’ll be wondering, of course, why I’ve come at such short notice,’ said Gloria, as Amelia sat down opposite her in an armchair. ‘I’ll just go straight ahead and tell you, Amelia. I can’t sugar-coat it, as much as I’d like to. Grace’s birth mother has informed us that she intends to contest the adoption.’
A wave of nausea surged through Amelia. She considered racing to the bathroom, afraid that she might actually vomit, but a desire to find out how on earth this had happened kept her rooted to the spot.
‘But-she-hasn’t-been-attending-contact-sessions,’ she said, her words coming out so fast, they ran into each other.
‘Yes, I know. But it appears she’s had a change of heart. She intends to begin attending immediately, I’m told.’
‘Oh. But will that be enough to persuade them?’
‘It really might not be. It depends on how her solicitor presents her case. And there isn’t much time for her to prepare it, anyway. The resolution hearing is scheduled for February second, and the final hearing for February sixteenth.’
That was just seven weeks away, thought Amelia. Grace could be taken away from them in just six weeks.
‘Will she win though? I mean, surely the judge will see that she has been playing games…’
‘I know it might feel like it, but this isn’t a game for her, Amelia. Grace’s birth mother seems very serious about it. This isn’t something we foresaw, I must say, and we are desperately sorry that it’s come to this, because we understand how this must make you feel. But we have to follow procedure here. The welfare of Grace is our priority, as ever.’
