The Forgotten Child: A little boy abandoned at birth. His fight for survival. A powerful true story.. R. Gallear

best to inspire me with confidence, but it didn’t really work. For once, I didn’t fall asleep before the bedtime story finished – I don’t think I was even listening. As I lay in my bed with the lights out, a shaft of waning daylight shining across my bed from a crack in the curtains, I hoped against hope that when I woke up in the morning it would all be a dream and I wouldn’t have to leave after all.

       1959–71: THE CRUEL YEARS

      Richard at school, aged 8

      CHAPTER 5

       Goodbye to Happiness

      July 1959 (4 years, 8 months) – Fine healthy boy. Much more stable and happier. Full of imagination, conversation, knowledge of everyday things.

      Richard’s last progress report before leaving Field House

      30 August 1959 was a beautiful sunny day, but it didn’t feel sunny to me. It was the day my cosy world fell apart. That afternoon I would have to leave the only home I’d ever known – a happy home of fun and laughter with my friends, a secure place where every adult loved us and cared for us. I knew nothing of my beginnings, but I did know I didn’t want to leave Field House. I didn’t want to go and live anywhere else, I wanted to stay there for ever.

      It was my last morning so I went to all my favourite places. First, to the vegetable garden, where I had ‘helped’ so often. Everything was growing well, including ‘my’ lettuces, poking up through the soil, and the runner beans I’d planted and watched growing up their canes.

      ‘I’m leaving today,’ I told the kindly gardener, trying to put on a brave face.

      ‘Are you now?’ he said. ‘We’ll miss you.’ He paused. ‘Have you got time to pick a few of these beans for the kitchen before you go? Then you can eat them for lunch.’

      ‘Yes, please,’ I said, perking up at the thought.

      Next, I visited the Japanese garden and said goodbye to my friend the toad, who sat and croaked as if he understood.

      The rest of the morning went far too quickly and when I went in for lunch, I was overjoyed that it was steak pie, mash and gravy with ‘my’ beans. It was all delicious, so I had another helping.

      The housemother at our table told the other boys that I was leaving and they all came up to say goodbye to me as we left the dining room. I didn’t like them saying goodbye – I didn’t want to say goodbye, I didn’t want to go.

      Finally, I went to my dormitory, where my housemother was packing my few belongings into a little, scuffed leather suitcase and ticking them off on a list.

      ‘I’ve packed some spare clothes for you,’ she explained in her kindest voice. I didn’t realise it at the time, but perhaps she didn’t want me to go either. ‘I’ve put in your favourite toys too.’

      ‘My cars?’ I asked.

      ‘Yes, both your cars and your spinning top.’

      I pulled open the drawer by my bed: it was empty.

      ‘Where are my conkers?’ I asked, my anxiety rising.

      ‘In your case.’

      I tried desperately to think what else I might need. Then I realised …

      ‘Where’s Jeffrey?’ I wailed. ‘My teddy!’ I felt under my bedcovers for him. ‘He’s not in my bed, I can’t go without him.’ I was panicking now.

      ‘It’s all right,’ she tried to soothe me. ‘Jeffrey is in the case too – I knew you wouldn’t want to go without him. I had to squash him in, but I think he’ll recover all right. I expect he’s a bit worried about going to a new home too.’

      ‘Oh, really?’ I hadn’t thought of that.

      ‘I’m sure we have packed everything now,’ she reassured me. ‘Let me give you a big hug.’ She put her arms round me and for those last few moments I felt secure. Would I feel like this with my new foster mother, in my new home? I had to hope so. I held on for as long as I could, then she gently pulled away.

      ‘Come on, it’s time to go.’

      At two o’clock that afternoon, we stood on the drive, my housemother holding my hand and carrying my case in her other hand. This was a terrible moment – the phrase ‘gut-wrenching’ comes to mind when I think back to the forlorn little boy I was, standing, waiting.

      ‘They’ll be here in a minute or two,’ she said. ‘Now, I want you to be a good boy and be happy in your new home.’

      I couldn’t say anything, so I just nodded.

      ‘You will have a good life and a good future with your foster parents.’

      But I hardly knew them. I screwed up my eyes and hoped to vanish, but when I opened them again, I was still there.

      The crunch of the gravel heralded the approach of a vehicle, which suddenly came into view and parked beside the house. I recognised it because one of the other boys had a toy version that looked the same. A small Ford van, it was hand-painted in two shades of blue. My housemother squeezed my hand and we walked across together. It wasn’t far and yet it seemed like a huge gulf of despair to me. I knew I had to try and be very brave.

      Mr and Mrs Gallear both got out of the van and Pearl gave me a lovely smile and a wave. I immediately felt all right with her. If only Arnold looked happier to see me, I might have felt a bit better, but he wore the same stern, distant expression that he’d had the first time they came. I felt instinctively that he didn’t like me, which made me feel very uncomfortable. At that moment, young as I was, I knew it was Pearl who wanted me, not her husband.

      ‘Wave back to your foster mother,’ coaxed my housemother.

      I did a little wave to her, but I felt too sad to smile.

      As we walked towards them, Pearl came to meet us, wearing another flowery summer dress. She looked lovely, walking with footsteps as dainty as a dancer and beaming her happy smile at me. But standing by the van, like a dark shadow in the background, was Arnold, who was not even looking at me. Though I tried my best not to cry, I was sobbing inside. I clung to my housemother, but she gently released my grip and knelt down, with Pearl standing next to her, looking anxious.

      ‘Be a brave boy,’ said my housemother. ‘I won’t forget you and we will all be thinking of you, but these are your new parents and this is your new life.’ She stood again and passed my hand over to Pearl, who grasped it warmly, along with my little case.

      ‘There’s a list of Richard’s things in the top of the case, together with his medical notes for you to give to his new doctor.’

      ‘Thank you,’ said Pearl.

      ‘Off you go now,’ said my housemother. ‘You will be fine.’

      I gave her a little wave and walked with Pearl to their van. In fact, I was focusing on it. From the little toy van one of my friends had, I knew there were only two front seats. Where would I sit? For a moment I hoped they would not have room for me and would leave me behind, but not so. Did Arnold know what I was thinking? As he walked round to the back and opened out the two rear doors my heart sank.

      ‘We’ve been looking forward to taking you home with us today,’ Pearl said with a smile and a squeeze of my hand. ‘We’ve put some carpet in the back of the van for you and a cushion to sit on,’ she explained. ‘To make you more comfortable.’