A Long Way from Home. Cathy Glass

other, confused, but not wishing to upset the doctor further, they returned to the cab.

      ‘Doctor not happy?’ Danny asked, having seen the exchange.

      Ian let out a sigh, then explained that they couldn’t find Anastasia’s clothes and toys and the doctor seemed to have taken it personally.

      ‘He will,’ Danny said, turning in his seat to look at them. ‘He annoyed because it happens a lot. Parents bring nice new clothes and toys for their child, and sometimes charities donate play equipment, but it all goes.’

      ‘Where to?’ Elaine asked.

      ‘The workers in the orphanages take them home for their children and their families and friends’ children. Not just this orphanage but others too.’

      ‘But that’s stealing!’ Elaine exclaimed. ‘We bought those things for Anastasia.’

      ‘Yes, it is wrong of them, but you have to understand the people who work in the orphanages are very poor. They can’t afford to buy their children nice clothes and toys, and they don’t see why the orphans should have them. Also, many of the children are disabled so they think it’s a waste, as they can’t play with the toys. One charity gave a slide, sandpit and things for outside. The next day it was all gone. You need to look after Anastasia’s things, take them away with you, or you won’t see them again.’

      ‘How very sad,’ Ian said. ‘Thank you for explaining.’

      The missing toys didn’t reappear and neither did the other two outfits. From then on Elaine and Ian did as suggested and took the toys away with them and then brought some back the next day. Anastasia didn’t protest at having her toys taken away from her as a child in a normal family would, as she’d had little experience of owning things. They couldn’t do the same with her clothes – keep dressing and undressing her – so they had to accept that the other two outfits they’d left had gone for good, and they kept the rest back for the court date and afterwards, when she would be with them in the hotel until they all flew home. Dr Ciobanu didn’t mention it again and neither did Ian and Elaine.

      The doctor wasn’t at the orphanage much as he had to divide his time between a number of orphanages and other work in the community. As they neared the end of the second week, having not had a chance to see Dr Ciobanu again, Ian left a written message on the table in his office asking him if he could phone him, as they were concerned they hadn’t got a firm court date yet. Dr Ciobanu phoned their hotel room that evening but it wasn’t the news they’d been hoping for.

      ‘The judge is going on holiday,’ Dr Ciobanu said. ‘I am trying to fit you in before he goes but the court is very busy.’

      Ian and Elaine knew delays happened, but it was still frustrating and it added to their anxiety that something could go wrong that would stop them from adopting Anastasia. Ian had taken a month off work – he was an engineer in a railway company – and a month should have been enough if everything went to plan.

      ‘If we can’t go to court before the judge goes on holiday, how long before he comes back?’ Ian asked Dr Ciobanu.

      ‘He’ll be away for three weeks.’ Ian’s heart sank. Elaine was watching him as he spoke and knew it was bad news.

      ‘Isn’t there another judge who could hear our case?’ Ian asked.

      ‘Lots of people take their holidays during August, judges included,’ Dr Ciobanu said. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll try my best to have your case fitted in before then. I’ll phone you with the date.’

      ‘Thank you,’ Ian said, and replaced the handset.

      They weren’t greatly reassured. They’d seen enough of Dr Ciobanu to know he tended to reassure people by telling them what they wanted to hear.

      ‘If we don’t get to court before the judge goes away, I’ll have to phone work and ask for unpaid leave,’ Ian said to Elaine. Ian’s boss knew about the adoption and had been sympathetic when Ian had asked to take all his annual leave in one go, which needed special permission. Elaine, a legal secretary, had left her permanent job the day before they flew out. During their adoption assessment the social worker had said that one parent should be at home at least for the first year after the adoption to give the child continuity and time to settle in. Elaine hadn’t minded at all. She had waited a long time to be a mother and wanted what was best for her child and to make the most of every minute. Later, when Anastasia was old enough and went to school, Elaine could take some part-time work. Legal secretaries were always needed and with her experience she would find work easily.

      Ian and Elaine felt they were bonding quickly with Anastasia, probably faster than she was with them. But that was to be expected. They had spent two years working towards this point, whereas Anastasia had had barely two weeks so far to adjust. Dr Ciobanu had told them that the care workers had explained to Anastasia what was happening, but Ian and Elaine doubted they’d had the time or patience to explain thoroughly or answer her questions and reassure her. He’d also told them that her attachment to her mother (or anyone else) was very weak, so she’d have no problem bonding with them once they were home, and wouldn’t miss anyone there.

      Ian and Elaine had got to know some of the staff at the hotel, especially their waitress who served them each morning at breakfast. Her name was Maria and she told them she was improving her English so she could work in the UK where the wages were much higher. She practised her English on them as she served them and knew why they were there. She had a five-year-old daughter who was looked after by her mother during the twelve-hour shifts she worked six days a week. But it was only when Maria showed them a photograph of her daughter that she said her name was Lana. This in itself was not such a huge coincidence, as it was a very popular name, but its significance immediately struck Ian and Elaine. On a waitress’s wages, Maria would never be able to afford to buy her daughter nice toys, let alone a personalized bear, as they had done for Lana. They hadn’t had a chance to approach Dr Ciobanu about putting the bear on Lana’s grave and if they were honest the need for doing this was lessening, as they moved on and bonded with Anastasia.

      ‘I think I’d like Maria’s daughter to have Lana’s bear,’ Elaine said to Ian later. He readily agreed.

      The following morning Elaine brought the bear in its original store gift bag down to breakfast and gave it to Maria. ‘For your daughter,’ Elaine said. We thought our child would be called Lana but we were wrong. We’d like you to have it.’ There was no need to go into any more detail about the child they’d lost.

      Maria looked at them, surprised and delighted, then, as she took out the bear, her eyes filled and her face crumbled. ‘For Lana? It’s beautiful. I could never afford to buy her this. She will love it so much. Thank you.’ She took Elaine’s hand and then Ian’s and kissed them. ‘Thank you from the bottom of my heart.’

      Elaine and Ian swallowed hard and knew they’d done the right thing.

      They began extending their time with Anastasia and running over the hour. Dr Ciobanu wasn’t there to tell them not to and the care workers didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it probably did them a favour not having to watch Anastasia, who was one of the few non-disabled children and by far the most active. So the hour became one and a half hours and then two. Anastasia always appeared pleased to see them and eager to look inside the carrier bag of toys to discover what they’d brought for her today. She wasn’t a tactile child but that would come with time, and although she wasn’t saying any English words yet, she seemed to understand simple instructions – for example, put this piece of puzzle there.

      One afternoon, while they were in the playroom, they heard English being spoken in the corridor outside without a heavy accent, which was unusual. Intrigued, Ian went out to investigate and saw two women in their early twenties. ‘Are you from the UK?’ he asked them.

      ‘Yes. Are you?’

      ‘Yes, pleased to meet you. I’m Ian.’

      ‘Pam and Mel,’ the girls said.

      ‘My