Nobody’s Son: All Alex ever wanted was a family of his own. Cathy Glass

thanks.’ And he was gone, although I knew that the memory of Alex would stay with Graham for a long time, probably forever, just as Alex would remember them, hopefully in a positive light.

      Today was all about settling Alex in and unpacking his belongings, so I hadn’t planned an outing. After Graham left I checked that the children were still playing happily in the living room, then I carried Alex’s suitcases up to his bedroom one at a time. I returned downstairs again for some of his bags of toys and took those up too. I would suggest to Alex that he kept some of his toys in his bedroom and some downstairs to play with, as Adrian, Paula and the other children I’d fostered did. With the hall much clearer I went into the living room and sat with the children for a while and watched them play, then Alex said he needed to use the bathroom so I went with him upstairs to show him where it was, and waited on the landing until he’d finished. As he passed his bedroom he looked in.

      ‘Will I be sleeping in there tonight?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes, love. I’ll unpack your cases soon.’

      We returned downstairs and I made the children a drink and a snack, which we had at the table, with Alex sitting in his place next to Adrian. Everyone was very quiet and on their best behaviour, but I knew from experience that it wouldn’t take long before they felt more comfortable with each other. Once we’d finished eating the children wanted to continue playing in the living room. As they were playing nicely – Adrian was sharing his toys with Alex and Alex was sharing his with Adrian and Paula – I said I’d go and unpack Alex’s bags and they should call for me if they needed me. I wouldn’t have left all the children I’d fostered unattended on their first day, but Alex didn’t have any behavioural issues and appeared responsible, as was Adrian, so I felt OK leaving them with Paula. Adrian knew to fetch me if there was a problem.

      With school in the morning I wanted to be organized, so I began by unpacking the case that Graham had said contained Alex’s school uniform and his casual clothes for winter. I hung them in the wardrobe and then arranged his underwear and socks in a drawer. I placed a pair of his pyjamas on his bed ready for later and hung his dressing gown on the hook on the back of his door. I took his towel and wash bag into the bathroom, where I placed his towel next to ours on the rail and set his wash bag on the shelf within his reach. I listened on the landing for the children and could hear them still playing, so I returned to Alex’s bedroom. With the first case empty I opened the second but, as Graham had said, it contained Alex’s summer clothes so I closed it again and then put both cases out of the way on top of the wardrobe.

      One of the bags I’d brought up contained soft toys and I arranged these on Alex’s bed and on one of the shelves. Another bag contained more toys and I emptied it into the toy box. There were another couple of new toy boxes downstairs ready for the toys Alex might want to keep in the living room. Although Alex was only staying for a few weeks, it was important he felt comfortable and ‘at home’ and wasn’t living out of cases. Satisfied his bedroom was now looking more welcoming and lived in, I took his slippers downstairs. Alex and Adrian were just coming out of the living room to take another of Alex’s bags of toys through to play with.

      ‘Before you do that let’s put your bike away,’ I suggested. ‘It’s a lovely bike – you are lucky.’

      ‘Father Christmas bought it for me,’ Alex said with a small smile.

      Adrian wanted to come and help put the bike in the shed, and then of course Paula, not wanting to be left out, arrived in the hall and said she did too. We all put on our coats and shoes and Alex carefully wheeled his bike down the hall, through the kitchen, and then Adrian helped him out with it through the back door. Our garden is long and narrow, with a patio at the top and then mainly grass to the shed at the very bottom. ‘Shall I ride my bike to the shed?’ Alex asked, clearly wanting to.

      ‘Yes.’

      He carefully mounted the bike and then rode confidently to the bottom of the garden, where he dismounted. We caught up. ‘If the weather is good next weekend we could take the bikes to the park,’ I suggested.

      ‘Yes!’ Adrian said, and Alex nodded enthusiastically.

      I unlocked the shed door and Adrian helped Alex in with his bike and rested it carefully next to his and Paula’s. There were other garden toys here too, stored for winter.

      ‘My bike’s got more wheels,’ Paula said, referring to the stabilizers.

      ‘Otherwise she falls off,’ Adrian said with a giggle to Alex.

      ‘Your bike had stabilizers too when you were very little and were learning to ride,’ I reminded Adrian. ‘I expect Alex used them as well. Many children do.’

      We returned indoors and the children continued playing in the living room and sharing their toys nicely. At present, playing together and discovering each other’s toys was a novelty, but I knew it was quite possible that after a while the novelty might wear off and squabbles could break out, just as in any sibling or friendship group. Experience had taught me that this was more likely with similar-aged children of the same sex, as Alex and Adrian were. They were either inseparable and best buddies or arguing over the same toy. Generally, if there is a choice of carers then foster children are placed with carers where there aren’t already children of the same age, especially if they are staying long term. But often there isn’t a choice, as there is always a shortage of foster carers, and as this wasn’t long term I didn’t envisage too many problems.

      The rest of the afternoon passed happily, and when I called everyone to dinner Alex went straight to his place at the table, far more relaxed and confident, as indeed Adrian and Paula were; everyone was thawing out. We talked as we ate and it was only natural that at some point Alex was going to mention his adoptive family, whom he had been told a bit about and was looking forward to meeting for the first time.

      ‘I’m going to have a forever mummy and daddy,’ he said. ‘I used to just have a mummy, but she can’t look after me.’ I nodded. ‘Graham says my daddy will do lots of things with me, like playing football. Do you have a daddy?’ he asked Adrian.

      I saw Adrian’s face fall. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly.

      ‘But he doesn’t live with us,’ I added, saving Adrian the embarrassment of having to say it.

      ‘Daddy takes us out and buys us sweets,’ Paula put in.

      ‘That’s nice,’ Alex said, and began talking about the sweets he’d had for Christmas. Although Alex’s question was entirely innocent, I knew Adrian struggled at moments like this. It had taken him months to admit to his best friend that his father wasn’t living with us any more, and many of his friends at school still didn’t know. Adrian perceived a stigma where others did not, and while it greatly saddened me that he had been placed in this position, there was nothing I could do about it beyond supporting him as he adjusted to having an absent father, as many children now have to do.

      After dinner I checked I had everything ready for the following morning. Alex’s school bag was in the hall beside Adrian’s, his school coat was on the hall stand with our coats, and his school shoes were paired beneath the stand with our shoes. Alex had school dinners, as did Adrian, so I didn’t have to make any packed lunches. As we would need to rise early in the morning for our new school run I began the children’s bath and bedtime routine just before seven o’clock that Sunday. I read Paula some stories and then, leaving the boys playing, I took her up for her bath and settled her into bed with her favourite cuddly – a velvety soft furry rabbit, which her father had bought as one of her Christmas presents.

      I returned downstairs for Alex. He was used to a similar bath and bedtime routine at his previous foster carers’. ‘What shall I do with all my toys?’ he asked. They were strewn across the living-room floor and Adrian had begun to pack his away into the new toy boxes.

      ‘I have just what you need,’ I said with a smile, and I brought in the new toy boxes. ‘You can put your toys in these and then you’ll be able to take them with you when you leave us.’ Which is what I usually did so the children I fostered left me with their toys in boxes and their clothes