Can I Let You Go?

by Cathy Glass

  ‘I gave him his bottle this morning,’ Faye announced proudly after a moment. ‘I didn’t make up the milk, the nurse did, but I gave it to him by myself.’

  ‘Well done,’ I said. Becky nodded in agreement.

  ‘The nurse watched me for a while and then left me to do it by myself. Then she came back and helped me wind him. I did well, didn’t I?’

  ‘Yes,’ Becky and I said. As far as I knew, that was the only time Faye had fed Edward.

  ‘I’m going to give Snuggles to Edward,’ Faye now said to me. ‘Can you get him from my bag?’

  I glanced over to Faye’s overnight bag ready by the door. Snuggles sat on top of it. I’d seen the bag when I’d first walked in and had assumed Snuggles was going home with her.

  ‘Are you sure, Faye?’ I asked. ‘You’ve had Snuggles a very long time.’

  ‘Since I was a baby,’ she said. ‘Mummy gave him to me. I want Edward to have him so he has something from me. When I think of Edward he will have Snuggles looking after him, just as he looked after me.’

  I saw Becky wipe the corner of her eye.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure,’ I said, standing.

  ‘I am.’

  I took Snuggles from the top of the case and tucked him on Faye’s lap between her and Edward. A knock sounded on the door and my stomach tightened.

  ‘That’ll be the foster carer,’ Becky said. She stood and went over and opened the door. ‘Come in.’

  Patsy stepped in carrying an empty carrier car seat and a large baby bag on her shoulder. ‘Hello,’ she said, with a reassuring smile.

  I smiled back. ‘This is Faye and little Edward,’ I said, introducing them. ‘Faye, this is Patsy. She’s the foster carer. I know her.’

  Faye watched her as she set the car seat and bag on the floor. ‘Is she your friend?’ she asked me.

  ‘Yes. She’s also a great foster carer,’ I said.

  Patsy came over and sat beside Faye in the seat Becky had vacated. ‘He’s a beautiful baby,’ she said, ‘and very content.’

  Faye gave her a little smile. ‘He’s going to be intelligent and learn lots of things, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, we’ll make sure of it,’ Patsy said. I could see Faye was warming to her. ‘I will look after him very well, but please tell me if there is anything special you want me to do for him.’

  ‘I want him to have Snuggles,’ Faye said, pointing to the soft toy. ‘He must have him every night, like I did. And when he goes shopping with you,’ she added as an afterthought.

  ‘Good. I’ll do that then. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?’ Usually when a baby or child goes into care the parent tells the carer something about the child’s routine to help the baby or child settle in, but Faye hadn’t been looking after Edward so hadn’t established a routine.

  She thought for a moment. ‘I want you to feed him, change him, bath him, play with him and read to him so he learns lots of things.’

  ‘I will do all of those things and more, I promise you, Faye,’ Patsy said, her manner just right. ‘I’ll take very good care of him. The best ever. Is there anything else?’

  Faye shook her head.

  ‘When was he last fed?’ Patsy asked practically.

  Faye didn’t know. ‘About an hour ago,’ Becky said.

  ‘So he’ll be all right until I get him home,’ Patsy said. ‘Although I’ve got a couple of bottles with me just in case. He’s on formula milk?’

  ‘Yes,’ Becky confirmed.

  ‘Does Faye have a photograph of her with her baby?’ Patsy asked. ‘I’ve brought my camera with me.’ Clearly Patsy had more experience of babies going into care than Becky or I did.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Becky said. ‘I haven’t taken any.’

  ‘I have,’ I said. ‘On the day he was born.’

  ‘Faye, would you like a photograph of you and Edward now?’ Becky asked.

  Faye shook her head. ‘No, thank you. This is a sad day and it will make me more sad when I look at it.’

  ‘I understand,’ Becky said. ‘Cathy has some photographs. You might like those.’

  ‘You’ll have to ask my gran,’ Faye said. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Becky said. ‘I’ll ask her another time.’

  ‘Is there anything else?’ Patsy asked, glancing at us all. ‘I’ll be sending regular reports on Edward’s progress through my support social worker.’

  ‘I don’t think there’s anything else, thank you,’ Becky said.

  The room fell silent and the enormity of what now had to be done weighed heavily upon us. No one spoke or moved for some time as we all gazed at Edward, still asleep in Faye’s arms. Then, without looking up at Patsy, Faye said quietly, ‘I know I’ve got to give you my baby now.’

  Patsy immediately teared up. ‘Sorry,’ she said, embarrassed, and sniffed. ‘When you’re ready, Faye, we’ll put Edward in the car seat and I’ll take him home. I promise you I’ll look after him very well and give him the best care ever.’

  Faye didn’t move but continued to gaze down at Edward.

  ‘When you’re ready, Faye,’ Becky said gently after a minute or so.

  Faye began to stand. We stood too. Carefully cradling Edward against her chest as I’d taught her, and with Patsy by her side, Faye took the couple of steps to the car seat and together they placed Edward into it. He barely stirred.

  ‘There’s a good little chap,’ Patsy said reassuringly. She fastened the safety harness as Faye watched, and then tucked the shawl over him. ‘He’ll be nice and warm in there,’ she said.

  As Patsy straightened, Faye knelt forward and kissed Edward’s cheek. ‘Bye,’ she said quietly, almost in a whisper. ‘I’ll always remember you, really I will.’ She tucked Snuggles in the carrier beside him. ‘I love you so much.’

  A tear slipped from my eye and I wiped it away. I saw Patsy and Becky do the same.

  ‘If ever you’re lonely or afraid,’ Faye told Edward, ‘Snuggles will keep you safe. He was my mummy’s and he always looked after me. He’ll look after you too. When you see him, think of me, please.’

  It was heartbreaking but it was as though Edward had heard and understood, for his eyes briefly opened.

  ‘Bye, my little baby,’ Faye said. ‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t look after you. You’ll have a proper mummy and daddy. I love you.’

  I wiped my eyes again, as Patsy was doing too. Faye remained on her knees in front of the carrier, taking all she could from that last look at Edward. Then Patsy said quietly to Becky, ‘I’ll go now then?’

  Becky nodded. I snapped to. I was supposed to be supporting Faye, so I went over and helped her to her feet. I slipped my arm around her waist as Patsy looped the bag over her shoulder and then picked up the carrier car seat.

  ‘Bye, Edward,’ Faye said. ‘I’ll always love you. Sorry I couldn’t be your mummy.’ Resting her head on my shoulder, she wept openly. My tears fell too.

  Patsy knew she shouldn’t prolong the agony and took the few steps to the door. Becky held the door open for her and, without turning, Patsy continued through, giving us our last view of Edward fast asleep in the carrier with Snuggles beside him. Faye was sobbing quietly now and I led her to a chair and eased her into it. I sat on one side of her and Becky sat on the other, and we offered what comfort we could. There was little we could say or do beyond holding her hands and waiting for the raw pain of parting to begin to ease. I’ve experienced many sad moments in my life, as have most people, but this was one of the worst, up there with my father dying and his funeral. Yet if it was bad for me, it was far, far worse for Faye. It was probably the worst day of her life and would remain so forever, for how does a mother get over losing her child? I honestly don’t know.

  After some time Faye’s tears began to subside, for now she couldn’t cry any more.

  ‘Are you ready to go home?’ Becky asked her gently.

  Gazing down at her hands in her lap, Faye nodded. It was strange not seeing Snug
gles there and I hoped Faye didn’t ever regret parting with him. Becky and I helped Faye to her feet and then helped her into her coat. I picked up her overnight bag and we silently left the room. The staff nurse from the ward came over. I’d seen her before – a largish woman, very caring of her patients, with a strong Irish accent.

  ‘Take care and good luck, love,’ she said to Faye, giving her a hug. ‘My sister in Ireland had to give up her baby thirty years ago. He came looking for her last year. A big strapping lad. A merchant banker. So don’t give up hope, love.’

  I didn’t know if Faye found her words comforting or not. She seemed numb with grief right now.

  ‘Thank you for looking after Faye so well,’ Becky said.

  ‘You’re welcome, take care.’ And with an encouraging smile she returned to her ward.

  Faye walked between us to the elevator, quiet and expressionless. Becky and I didn’t speak either, for what could we say? Smalltalk was inappropriate and any words of comfort seemed shallow and impotent set against what Faye was going through. Once outside I carried Faye’s bag to Becky’s car and put it on the back seat. Becky helped Faye into the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt. Faye didn’t look at me but kept her gaze down.

  ‘Bye, love,’ I said. I leant in and kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll be thinking about you.’ But she didn’t respond. I straightened and Becky closed her door.

  ‘Try not to worry,’ Becky said. ‘I’m sure she’ll start to feel a bit better once she’s home with her gran and grandpa.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  We said goodbye and I didn’t wait around. Faye wasn’t looking out of her window, so I went straight to my car. Once inside I took my phone from my bag and pressed my mother’s number. I needed to hear her voice.

  ‘I love you,’ I said as soon as she answered.

  ‘Well, that’s nice. I love you too, dear. What’s the matter?’

  I told her the whole sad story, from Faye’s decision to give up her baby to him being collected by the carer just now.

  Mum was quiet until I’d finished and then she said, ‘You know, Cathy, Faye might have learning difficulties, but she’s got an awful lot of good sense. She recognized her limitations, before any of you did, and made a very sensible decision. She’s saved herself and Edward a lot of heartache in the future. Obviously I’m sorry that it couldn’t have been different, but that girl deserves a medal. She had the perception and courage to make the most difficult decision any mother could ever make. God bless her.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A Revelation

  I didn’t go straight home. I decided I needed some fresh air to clear my head, so I drove to the downs, about twenty minutes outside of town. From the top of the downs the view is spectacular. Undulating green hills peppered with scarps and clusters of trees as far as the eye can see. The view continues to the skyline in the distance, and on a clear day it’s as though you can see forever. Stony gravel paths lead from the car park over the downs, some for seasoned walkers, others for novices. I set off on one that I knew was about an hour of walking on even terrain. The wind always blows keenly over the downs even in summer, and today it was sharp. ‘A brisk walk on the downs will blow those cobwebs away,’ my father used to say when my brother and I were children and had been niggling each other and needed some exercise and a change of scenery.

  Brisk it certainly was, and after fifteen minutes my cheeks were glowing and my ears stung with the cold. But the beauty and vastness of the landscape touched me now as it always did, and being up there and away from the world below gave me a fresh perspective. The solitude was welcome, too, for there weren’t many walking the downs in the middle of winter on a weekday. By the time I’d completed the circuit I felt better able to appreciate all that was good in life and what we had to be grateful for. I returned home and kept myself busy, and when Paula, Lucy and Adrian came in I told them that Faye had been very brave and Edward had slept peacefully throughout. Even so, we were all quieter than usual that evening and tended to keep our own company. It would take time for us to adjust and come to terms with Faye leaving, especially as the outcome wasn’t what we’d hoped for.

  The following morning Becky telephoned to see how I was, which was kind of her. She said she’d seen Faye safely home the day before. Wilma and Stan had been waiting at the flat and had been very pleased to see her, as she was to see them. Becky had stayed for about an hour to make sure they were coping and had everything they needed. She said that Wilma had brought up the subject of the photographs I’d taken and had asked if it was possible for them to have copies, feeling it was important they had some pictures of Edward to remember him by. She said that if Faye didn’t want to look at them now, she’d put them away until she did. For she was certain she would do one day, just as she liked to look at the photographs of her mother. I told Becky I’d get a set printed and take them when I took Faye’s belongings. In that connection Becky asked if I could phone Wilma and Stan later to arrange a mutually convenient time to do this, as Faye was asking about her belongings.

  That afternoon I went into town and had the photographs printed. The shop offered a special fast-track one-hour service, and while they were being processed I put the time to good use by doing the last of my Christmas shopping. Christmas was less than a week away now. I waited until I was in the privacy of my car before I opened the packet containing the photographs, and of course my eyes immediately filled. Pictures of darling little Edward, only a few minutes old, swaddled in a blanket in Faye’s arms. Then some of him dressed in one of the babygrows we’d bought together, with Snuggles and Faye, a couple with Wilma, then all of them together, and finally one of me with Faye and Edward, a copy of which I would keep. As I looked at the photographs I studied Faye’s expression for any indication of what she might have been thinking at that time, but there was nothing beyond relief and happiness that her precious baby had been delivered safely. Nothing to say she was changing her mind about being able to look after him.

  That evening I telephoned Wilma and Stan. Stan answered, polite as ever, although not chatty, which was understandable. They’d all been through a lot in the last few days. I began by asking how they all were and he said, ‘Pleased to have Faye home with us.’ I explained why I was phoning and we arranged for me to bring Faye’s belongings the following morning at eleven o’clock. He thanked me and we said goodbye. I now had the incentive I needed to go into what had been Faye’s bedroom and finish wrapping her Christmas presents, which I would take with me. I was sure Faye would find good use for the camera, even though it wasn’t the one I’d envisaged. I neatly wrapped the camera in its box and then the stocking fillers, and placed them all in the Santa sack I’d bought for her. I fetched a large black bin liner from the kitchen and placed Faye’s sack in it, as well as the presents I’d bought for Wilma and Stan. I’d ask Stan or Wilma to put the bag away until Christmas morning, when they’d all have a nice surprise. Before I went to bed I stripped Faye’s bed and remade it with fresh linen. Tomorrow I’d vacuum and clean the room. Now Faye had left I could be asked to foster another child or young person at short notice, although I hoped that wouldn’t happen just before Christmas.

  The following day Adrian helped me load the car with Faye’s belongings and I set off to the flat. I’ll admit I had reservations about seeing Faye, Wilma and Stan again so soon after the trauma of two days ago. The emotion was still raw for me, as I’m sure it was for them, but Faye wanted her belongings. I parked the car outside the flats and then telephoned their landline to say I’d arrived and was about to make my first trip up in the lift. I imagined having to make a number of trips up and down with all the bags.

  ‘If you hold on a minute,’ Stan said, ‘I’ll send Lewis down to help. He’s our neighbour’s nephew. He’s with them now.’

  ‘OK, fine,’ I said. ‘That would be a big help.’

  I waited by the car and a few minutes later a slightly built lad in his teens appeared. Shy and awkw
ard as teenagers can be, I was grateful for his help and we managed to move everything up in two trips. Stan, leaning on his walking stick, had their front door propped open and took the case and bags as we brought them up. I carried the bin liner containing the presents.

  ‘Thank you very much,’ I said to Lewis before he returned next door.

  ‘That’s OK,’ he said self-consciously. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

  I went into the flat with Stan and explained what the bin liner contained. He was genuinely surprised and grateful.

  ‘Your secret is safe with me,’ he said. ‘We’ll hide it in here.’ He pushed open the door to his and Wilma’s bedroom and I followed him in. ‘Can you put it in the cupboard, lass. Wilma and Faye never go in there.’

  I opened the door and lifted in the bulging bin liner. It just fitted.

  ‘Thanks, love,’ he said. ‘You’re a kind lass. That will make our Christmas.’ And I knew he meant it.

  In the living room Faye was sitting on the sofa beside her gran in a mirror image of her, just as she had been when I’d first met her. She looked up and managed a weak smile as Wilma said a friendly, ‘Hello, Cathy.’ Faye was again dressed in clothes similar to her gran’s and that could have been hers. The television was on, showing repeats of soaps, and Stan picked up the remote and lowered the sound.

  ‘Can we make you a drink?’ he asked.

  ‘No, thank you. I’m fine. I had a coffee before I left.’

  ‘Sit yourself down,’ Wilma said hospitably.

  I drew up one of the dining chairs. Stan sat in his armchair to my right and Faye and Wilma were on the sofa in front of me. There was an awkward silence. ‘I won’t stay long, but I wanted to see how you were,’ I said to Faye.

  ‘I’m all right,’ she said, with a small shrug of acceptance.

  ‘You’ve got a new cuddly then?’ I said, referring to the soft toy wedged between her and Wilma. It was of a similar size and shape to Snuggles.