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

future, where he would feel loved and valued and thrive as a child should. I drained the last of my now-cold tea, closed the folder and went into the front room, where I placed it in the lockable drawer. I took out my fostering folder so that I could write up my log notes – the daily record foster carers are required to keep of the child or children they are looking after. When the child leaves this record is usually placed on file at the social services. Returning to the living room, I took a pen and a fresh sheet of paper and headed it with today’s date, then I wrote a couple of paragraphs on how Alex was settling in and what we’d done that day. Closing the folder, I placed that in the drawer in the front room too.

      Before I went to bed I looked in on Alex. He was sleeping peacefully, although Simba had fallen out and lay on the floor. I quietly picked him up and set him on the pillow again, and then crept out. I never sleep well when there is a new child in the house. I’m half listening out in case they wake frightened, not knowing where they are and needing reassurance, but Alex slept like a log. He was still sound asleep when I checked on him at 6.15, just before I showered and dressed. At seven o’clock I woke all three children and said it was time for them to wash and dress ready for school, and that I needed everyone downstairs for breakfast by 7.20 so we could leave the house at 7.45. I was a little apprehensive about the timing of this new school run; I always am at the start. I obviously didn’t want anyone to be late so I was allowing plenty of time, although I knew that by the end of the week it would all be second nature.

      I waited on the landing, checking everyone was getting washed and dressed. There was a clock in each of their bedrooms, although Paula couldn’t tell the time yet. We all went downstairs together and the children sat at the table while I made breakfast. Alex wanted porridge, the same as Adrian and Paula, and said he was looking forward to seeing his friends at school again. As Alex’s school started earlier than Adrian’s it also finished earlier, which would allow me time to collect Alex and then return for Adrian. If I was a few minutes late Adrian knew to wait with his teacher until I arrived. The logistics of this school run were a lot easier than some I’d had to organize.

      We left the house on time and arrived at Alex’s school as I intended, just after eight o’clock. As it was the first day I wanted to go into reception and check the school office had my contact details, as very often they didn’t. It relied on the social worker advising the school of the foster carer’s details, and with so much going on when a child comes into care or has to move carers, it can easily be overlooked. As we entered the school Alex said goodbye and went off to join his friends in breakfast club, while Adrian and Paula came with me to the reception desk and then waited to one side as I explained to the school secretary that I was Alex’s new foster carer. She hadn’t been given my contact details and reached for a form for me to complete.

      ‘I’ve lost count of the number of times that poor kid’s address has had to be updated,’ she said, unimpressed.

      ‘I know he’s had a lot of moves,’ I agreed. I filled in Alex’s name on the form and then my name, address and telephone number.

      ‘I assume he’s staying with you permanently?’ she said as I returned the completed from to her. Clearly she was unaware that shortly Alex would be moving to his adopted home, and it wasn’t for me to tell her.

      ‘He’ll be with me for the time being,’ I said.

      She tutted, slid the form into a file and then handed me a copy of the school’s prospectus, as I’d guessed she’d done to other carers before. ‘The term dates are in there, assuming he’s still with you then.’

      ‘Thank you,’ I said, ignoring the slight. Caring primary-school staff are often very protective of their pupils, with everyone – including the office staff, teachers and the caretakers – knowing the children and looking out for them, but it wasn’t my fault Alex had had so many moves.

      We arrived in Adrian’s school playground with two minutes to spare. Paula and I said goodbye to Adrian, and I waited until he’d lined up with his class ready to go in before I took Paula to nursery, which was on the same site. She attended nursery three mornings a week and was always a little clingy on Monday, after the weekend, but one of the nursery assistants came over and took her to the sandpit where a friend of hers was playing, so I was able to kiss her goodbye and leave.

      When I arrived home the green light on the answerphone was blinking with a message. It was from Jill. ‘Good morning, Cathy, I guess you’re on the school run. When you have a moment can you give me a ring, please, to confirm Alex’s move yesterday went well. Thank you.’

      I took off my coat and shoes and returned the call straight away. Jill was always very efficient and I tried to be too. I told her that Graham had brought Alex as arranged and that Alex appeared fine and was settling in, and was in school now.

      ‘Excellent,’ she said. ‘Well done.’ Jill often praised her carers and it was appreciated by us. She was responsible for twelve foster carers and made sure she kept up to date and knew as much about the children we fostered as we did.

      ‘Has there been any mention of a LAC review?’ she asked. LAC stands for ‘looked-after children’.

      I’d read the minutes of his previous reviews. ‘No. Just the planning meeting on Wednesday,’ I said.

      ‘I’ve got that in the diary. I’ll be there. Usually a child has a review after a change in carers, but I’ll check with Debbie. As Alex is only with you for a month she may not feel it’s worth it. I’ll let you know. I’ll see you on Wednesday, but obviously phone if you need to.’

      ‘Thanks, Jill. I will.’

      We said goodbye. It was reassuring to know that the fostering agency offered twenty-four-hour support, seven days a week, although I didn’t think I’d be needing any help with Alex. He was a dear little boy and was only with me for a very short while.

      An hour later Debbie, Alex’s social worker, telephoned for an update and I told her more or less what I’d told Jill, including that Alex was in school and the school now had my contact details.

      ‘Thanks, Cathy. The school have been very good with Alex. Has he got all his belongings with him?’

      ‘Yes. I think so.’

      ‘Is there anything he needs?’

      ‘No. Well, apart from his new parents. He’s so looking forward to meeting them.’

      ‘I know. Bring your diary with you on Wednesday. We’ll be planning the introductions and the move. It’s a good match. His adoptive parents already have the experience of bringing up their son, so Alex will have a sibling.’

      ‘Great. How old is he?’

      ‘Nine. Two years older than Alex. He can’t wait to have a brother.’

      ‘Fantastic. I do so like happy endings.’

      ‘So do I, Cathy, so do I.’

      The morning flew by and it wasn’t long before I was collecting Paula from nursery. While I was there I took the opportunity to ask Kay, a good friend of mine who had children of a similar age to Adrian and Paula, if she could collect Paula from nursery on Wednesday, as I had to go to a meeting at the social services. She knew I fostered and said straight away that she could. ‘I’ll give the girls lunch and I can also collect Adrian if you’re not back in time,’ she offered.

      ‘Thanks, Kay, that’s kind of you, although the meeting should finish long before the end of school.’ But it was reassuring to have that safety net. Kay knew a little of what was involved in fostering and we’d helped each other out in the past. She’d been very supportive when my husband had left me and I greatly valued her friendship, as I hoped she did mine. As a foster carer it’s essential to have a good support network of friends and relatives who can be relied upon to help out if necessary, just as it is in everyday life. We left the nursery together and then went our separate ways. Paula was delighted she was going to play with her friend on Wednesday. I would need to inform the nursery of the arrangement, in line with their ‘keeping children safe’ policy.

      I