by Cathy Glass
She went through naming the others in the photo and then Melody turned the page. ‘Are those your parents?’ she asked. Dana had written ‘Nana and Grandpa’ beneath.
‘Yes, your nana and grandpa. They are so looking forward to meeting you.’
‘I haven’t had a nana and grandpa of my own before. I share Adrian, Lucy and Paula’s here.’
Dana smiled. ‘You’ll have to share my parents with your cousins, but don’t worry, they have plenty of love to go round.’
‘Like Cathy’s parents,’ Melody said, which I thought was lovely.
As they continued going through the album, with Dana answering Melody’s questions and adding a little more information to each picture, I saw Melody slowly move closer to her adoptive mother, then relax against her, resting her head on her shoulder. The physical contact was another good sign that Melody was willing to accept her. They came to the end of the album and Dana closed it and slipped her arm around Melody’s waist.
‘I’m so pleased you like the photos,’ she said, drawing Melody close. ‘I spent a lot of time deciding what to include. I’ve got plenty more photos at home and we can look at those when you come to visit me next week.’
Melody nodded and then, raising her head, asked, ‘Would you like to see a photo of my mummy?’
I watched Dana for her reaction.
‘Yes, of course,’ she said easily. ‘I’d love to see a picture of your birth mummy. We will visit her once you’ve moved in.’
I saw the look of gratitude and relief on Melody’s face and felt sure it would be OK. In acknowledging and accepting her birth mother, Dana had allowed Melody to embrace her new life without feeling guilty about her past.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Overtired and Emotional
Dana stayed for an hour as timetabled, and that evening when I wrote up my log notes I included details of her visit, which were all very positive. Melody must have given Miss May a very good account of Dana’s visit too, for at the end of school the following day Miss May gave me the thumbs-up sign, which I returned with a smile. She didn’t come over to talk, as she knew we had to get away quickly again.
Dana arrived promptly at 4 p.m. and spent time with Melody, helping with her homework and playing various board games; she also stayed for dinner. The next day Dana took Melody out to eat and then spent the rest of the evening with us, when she was largely responsible for Melody – running her bath and seeing her into bed. I was gradually handing over Melody’s care to her, which would continue the bonding process so Melody’s confidence in her adoptive mother grew. By the end of the week Melody was calling Dana ‘Mummy’ naturally and referring to Amanda as her ‘birth mummy’ – also very positive.
Because there was a lot going on for Melody and she was seeing her adoptive mother most evenings, she didn’t attend CAMHS or the after-school sports club that week; neither did she see Lizzie, although on Thursday evening we did bake cakes, as it was one of the evenings Dana just telephoned and didn’t see Melody. Her LAC review, scheduled for November, was postponed until after the move, but at the end of the first week those of us involved in Melody’s adoption met as planned to take stock and assess how it was going. It was only a short meeting, as there weren’t any issues, and Jill and Neave had telephoned regularly for updates so knew everything was going well and according to plan. Dana left that evening to return home, and phoned Melody as arranged on Saturday. On Sunday my parents arrived in the morning to stay the night, and I left in the car with Melody to continue the introductions at what would soon be her new home with Dana. As is usual when a child moves to permanency, I took some of her belongings with us in the car to leave there. Having their possessions with them engenders a feeling of being ‘at home’ in the child, and practically all Melody’s belongings – accumulated since coming into care – were more than one carload.
Melody was very excited and chatty at the start of the journey, but then as we entered the area where Dana lived she fell quiet. ‘Are you OK?’ I asked, glancing at her in the rear-view mirror. She was gazing through her side window, deep in thought.
‘Those hills over there look like the ones near the care home where my other mummy lives,’ she said.
‘They are similar,’ I agreed, ‘although the care home is in the opposite direction, not near here.’ I glanced at her again. ‘Were you thinking about her?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s all right. I hope they were nice thoughts.’
‘I was thinking she won’t know I’ve got a new mummy, because she doesn’t know anything any more.’
‘No, love, but if she did I’m sure she’d be happy and would want what’s best for you.’ I wondered if Melody was feeling a little guilty about being happy in her new life. ‘Mummies want what’s best for their children,’ I emphasized. ‘I’m a mummy and I know that.’ Melody nodded and seemed to accept my reassurance.
As we entered the market town where Dana lived, Melody recognized it from the photographs and sat upright in her seat. ‘There’s the church with the tall steeple,’ she said, pointing and getting excited again. ‘And that’s where they have the market.’ It was Sunday, so no market was being held today and only a few of the shops were open. I drove slowly through the centre, which was as picturesque as in the photographs. Quaint, full of character, spotlessly clean – and, despite it being winter, troughs of flowers and evergreen shrubs decorated the main high street and market square. Dana had told me to follow the road round through the centre and her house, number 45 with a red door, would be further up on our left. ‘Watch out for a red door and the number 45,’ I told Melody.
‘There it is!’ she shouted, recognizing it from the photo in the album.
‘Well spotted.’
I pulled over and parked behind Dana’s car in a resident’s bay. She’d said that most of the area close to the centre had controlled parking, so she’d give me a visitor’s permit when I arrived. Her house, like the others in the street, was a Victorian terrace with original sash windows and the doors opening straight onto the pavement. While they didn’t have front gardens, most of them – including Dana’s – had window boxes full of winter pansies, continuing the charm of the town square.
As soon as I let Melody out of the car she was at the red front door, pressing the bell. Her previous pensiveness had gone and she was now eager to see Dana again, and her new home for the first time.
The door opened immediately. ‘Well, hello!’ Dana exclaimed, with a big, welcoming smile. ‘Come on in.’ Melody gave her a hug, which was nice, then Dana handed me the parking permit. ‘Put it on the dashboard so it can be seen,’ she said.
I did so while they waited just inside the hall.
‘Come through,’ Dana said as I returned, and she showed us into the one main room, which ran from the front of the house to the back. It was just as we’d seen it in the photographs. The end we were now in looked out over the street and was used as a living room, with a sofa, easy-chair and a black leather pouffe that doubled as another seat. It was full of character; the original fireplace and wooden mantelpiece had been retained, although the fire was no longer in use and the grate contained a lovely arrangement of dried flowers. Beside the coffee table was a pine wooden toy box overflowing with new games and puzzles; a teddy bear peeped out.
‘Is that mine?’ Melody asked, her eyes rounding.
‘Yes. Take a look,’ Dana said. ‘We’ll play a game later.’
The atmosphere in the house was very warm and cosy. ‘You’ve got a lovely home,’ I told Dana.
‘Thank you. I’ve been here for five years now. I moved in after my divorce – I needed a fresh start.’
I nodded and my gaze went to the many framed photographs on the wall above the sofa. One was of a young girl who I thought might be Katie.
‘Would you like to look around first and then I’ll make us a drink?’ Dana asked Melody.
She was immediately on her feet. ‘Can I see my room?’
Dana led the way to the other end of the room, which was the dining area and again familiar from the photographs. A pine table and four chairs with floral seat cushions stood by the French windows, which looked out to the patio and garden beyond.
‘There’s the bird feeder,’ Melody said. As we looked, a couple of small garden birds flew down to feed.
‘I sit here with the doors open in summer to eat,’ Dana told Melody. ‘It’s lovely on a warm evening.’ I could picture it. Idyllic.
‘Can I feed the birds?’ Melody asked.
‘Yes, when the feeder is empty I’ll show you how to refill it.’
We watched the birds feed for a while longer and then Dana showed us into the kitchen – again, it was as we’d seen in the pictures.
‘Can I help you cook,’ Melody asked, ‘like I help Cathy?’
‘Yes. I’m always happy to have help cooking,’ Dana laughed. We then followed her up the stripped-pine staircase, our feet clipping on the wooden steps, to the bedrooms. First we went into Melody’s room and she was delighted. ‘It’s so big,’ she said. ‘Just like in the photo.’
‘Yes, you’re a lucky girl,’ I said.
‘Do you knock before you come into my room, like Cathy does?’
‘Yes, if you’d like me to,’ Dana said.
Melody looked out of her bedroom window to the garden beyond, and then opened and closed a few drawers and the wardrobe doors – all were empty at present.
‘We’ll put the belongings you’ve brought with you today in here later,’ Dana told Melody.
Melody spent a bit more time looking round and then asked, ‘Where do you sleep?’
‘This way, I’ll show you.’
We crossed the landing and looked in Dana’s bedroom, which was at the front of the house, then she showed us the small box room, which was used mainly for storage, and finally the bathroom. ‘Can you see your towel and flannel?’ Dana asked Melody.
Melody spotted them straight away. ‘They’ve got my name on!’ she exclaimed, rushing over. Dana had had a set of towels embroidered with ‘Melody’.
‘How lovely,’ I said. It was, but impractical for us, I thought, when we had children arriving and leaving, sometimes in quick succession.
Melody loved her personalized towel set and asked if she could have a bath.
‘Yes, at bedtime,’ Dana said, pleased they were a success.
So far so good, I thought, watching Melody. We returned downstairs, where Dana made us drinks and also produced a plate of cling-film-wrapped sandwiches from the fridge and set them on the table. As we ate we watched the small birds fly down, take a few seeds and then fly off again. It was fascinating. There were many more different varieties of garden birds here compared to at my home. Once we’d finished, I helped Dana clear the table while Melody went to explore the contents of the toy box again. ‘I’ll leave soon,’ I said to Dana. ‘Melody seems pretty settled.’
‘That’s fine. I might take her out for a while later. I’ll just see how it goes.’
We returned to the living room where Melody was now studying the photographs on the wall. ‘I know some of those people,’ she said, pointing and meaning she recognized them from the photograph album. That’s why the photograph album is such an important part of the introductory process when moving a child to permanency – the familiarity kindles a feeling of ‘knowing’ their new family and home.
‘Do you recognize that couple?’ Dana said, pointing.
‘Yes, your parents, Nana and Grandpa,’ Melody said, pleased she knew.
‘Well done. And here is my sister and her family – your aunt, uncle and cousins.’
‘Who’s that?’ Melody asked, pointing to the picture of the child I’d noticed earlier.
‘That’s Katie, my other daughter who passed away,’ Dana said easily. I thought it was very sensitive of her to refer to Katie as her ‘other’ daughter.
‘It’s a lovely photo,’ I said.
‘It was one of the last ones we took before she became very ill.’
Melody looked worried. ‘I won’t be ill here, will I?’ she asked Dana, with a child’s directness.
‘No, love, you won’t,’ Dana replied. ‘Katie was born with something wrong with her heart and the doctors couldn’t mend it. You are fit and healthy and I will make sure you stay that way.’
‘Good. My mummy in the care home has something wrong with her that the doctors can’t put right.’
‘I know, sweet,’ Dana said. ‘It’s very sad when that happens, isn’t it?’
Melody turned from the photo to look at her and in their gaze I saw something unique that I hadn’t been able to give her – an understanding, an empathy, a bond formed because they both knew what it was to gradually lose a loved one through illness.
I stayed for another ten minutes, then, assured that Melody was fine to leave, I said I would go to my hotel now and see them tomorrow. The three of us unloaded my car and Dana said they’d unpack Melody’s bags as soon as I’d gone, so she had her belongings around her. I kissed them both goodbye, returned to my car and drove to the hotel. Within reason, the social services reimburse foster carers for any expenses they incur in moving a child to permanency.
It was a strange feeling entering that impersonal hotel room alone. I couldn’t remember ever being in a hotel room by myself and I didn’t feel comfortable with it. My family was at home being looked after by my parents, Melody was settling in with her adoptive mother and here I was alone for the night. I’m a family person and although I like solitude sometimes, I also like to know that someone will be coming home soon. As I unpacked my overnight bag my thoughts went to Dana, who’d moved house five years ago after her divorce and having lost her daughter. How many days had she spent alone? It would have taken a lot for her to get back on her feet, but she’d done it. Her home was clearly a happy one and I was sure Melody would be happy there too.
It was mid-afternoon and I decided to explore the small town centre where I found a cornershop open on a Sunday and brought a newspaper and something to take back to the hotel to eat later. I wandered down some of the side streets where I discovered some thatched cottages with their plaques showing they’d been built in 1760. When I returned to my hotel room I phoned home, spoke to everyone and then settled down with the Sunday paper. Later I watched some television, resisted the urge to phone home again and then showered and had an early night.
I slept fitfully, and the following morning, once washed and dressed, I went down to the dining room for breakfast. I checked out and passed the morning by exploring more of the town. It was busier now on Monday with the shops open. I came across a couple of craft shops aimed at tourists and I bought my parents a small thank-you gift for helping out, then returned to Dana’s at 12.30 to collect Melody. She didn’t want to leave and while this was a good sign, Dana knew as I did that we had to stay to the timetable.
‘Come on,’ I encouraged, ‘what about the rest of your belongings? They are still at my house.’
‘You can bring them,’ Melody replied a little grumpily. ‘While I stay here.’
‘No, love, I’m pleased you want to stay here, but we have to follow the timetable and do what Neave decided.’
‘Not going,’ she said. Folding her arms across her chest, she scowled, reminiscent of when she’d first arrived at my house.
‘You’re coming here again on Wednesday,’ Dana said. ‘That’s only two sleeps.’ Melody didn’t look convinced. ‘And I’m phoning you tonight – or better still, why don’t you phone me? Do you know how to use a telephone?’ It was a good piece of child psychology – giving Melody the challenge and responsibility for making the phone call.
‘I’ll phone you,’ Melody said. She lowered her arms and stopped scowling.
‘Great. Good choice,’ I said.
Melody hugged Dana goodbye and we left. She had another moan in the car about leaving, but then
began looking forward to telling Paula, Lucy and Adrian about her new home, as well as Miss May and Lizzie the following day at school. My parents would have left now, having seen Adrian, Paula and Lucy off to school, and would return on Wednesday for the second overnight. I fed in the CD of popular children’s songs and concentrated on the traffic on the motorway.
Once home, Melody looked a bit bemused. At this point in the introductions the child has a foot in each home, which can be confusing for them, but I knew from experience that these timetables worked, so at the end of the introductory period the child is ready to leave and start their new life without feeling rushed or rejected.
I waited until Melody had settled with some toys in the living room before I telephoned Jill and Neave to update them. I told them both that the first overnight had gone really well. I also invited them to the small leaving party I was having for Melody on Friday at 5 p.m. It’s usual for the foster carer to give the child a leaving party and a present and card when they move to permanency. Jill could make it, but Neave couldn’t. She’d be seeing Melody again anyway at Dana’s after the move. Gaynor telephoned for an update and I invited her. I would also invite my parents, Miss May, Miss Langford, and Lizzie and her family. Although Dana had said they would keep in touch, marking Melody’s leaving with a party was a pleasant way for us to say goodbye. It would also confirm for Melody that her stay with us had ended and she was going to start her new life with her adoptive mother.
On Wednesday, after Paula, Adrian and Lucy had left for school, I loaded my car again and set off with Melody for her second overnight stay. My parents would arrive later that afternoon and stay the night. Melody was delighted to be there again and, now familiar with the house, went straight to the toy box in the living room to play. I accepted the coffee Dana offered and stayed for an hour, then left to check into my hotel. After that I spent the afternoon in the local museum just off the town centre, had something to eat in a café and then returned to my hotel room where I phoned home. Mum answered.