Chosen Child (3 page)

He was silent, and she heard the sound of a car down the
phone. He must have gone outside. ‘James?’

His voice was low. ‘Look, I can’t talk here. I’ll call you,
okay? Don’t worry.’

Amanda sat clutching her phone, her heart still racing. That
hadn’t gone well, but he knew now and she could start to plan. She rubbed a
hand over the flatness of her tummy. No matter what happened, she was going to
have this baby.

Saturday 3rd – Friday 9th May

The girl’s name was Soraya, and the reason she’d removed her
name badge was that the bigger kids took one look and called her ‘Sore-eyes’.
Ella stood gaping while the child’s foster mother re-attached the badge. Soraya
promptly dashed off, and the woman grinned at Ella and Rick.

‘Speedy Gonzales has nothing on Soraya. Hope you’d finished
the game? Sorry, I’d better go after her. Catch me later if you want to talk.’

Ella only just managed to smile and nod.

Rick had seen her face. ‘You want to inquire about her,
don’t you?’ he said, pulling her back outside.

Ella felt physically sick. Soraya and the woman were nowhere
to be seen, and anyway, she had already agreed to adopting a boy.

‘She – struck a chord,’ she whispered as they walked across
the car park, in silent mutual consent that the party was over.

‘Ah. The famous spark of attraction,’ said Rick, opening the
passenger door and clambering over to the driver’s seat. Ella got in beside
him. He didn’t seem upset that she was making up her mind – because she was,
wasn’t she? – that a rather cheeky six-year-old girl was the child for them and
not the years-younger boy Rick wanted.

She closed her eyes, not speaking as Rick reversed out and
drove towards their home, a three-bed semi with a large L-shaped garden within
smelling distance of the sea. They’d bought it in the days when they thought it
would be the easiest thing in the world to make a couple of kids to fill the
bedrooms. Ella stood in the driveway, blinking back tears at the thought of
those empty rooms and the tidy, child-free garden. From here she could see all
the way up the side, though the back green was partially hidden by the large
wooden shed. Would there ever be trikes and scooters in there?

Over dinner they thrashed it out. Rick was still hankering
after a son, though to Ella’s surprise he didn’t dismiss Soraya out of hand.

‘I’d prefer a boy,’ he said. ‘But we want more than one,
don’t we? We could adopt a boy next time. And I did like Soraya’s spunk. You
should decide, you’ll have more to do with the kid anyway.’

Ella blinked. After all the insistence about young and
healthy white boys she hadn’t expected this about-turn, but instead of making
her feel positive and excited it simply scared her. Rick
hadn’t
wanted a child of that age, and definitely not a girl. Did this sudden
capitulation meant that, having seen the reality of children up for adoption,
he was stepping back from the parenthood idea? Her idea, her child, her
responsibility? It wasn’t the best way to do this. But – she wanted Soraya so
badly; it was an almost physical ache in her gut. Ella stuck her chin in the
air. Soraya this time, a boy the next… Why not?

She phoned Liz after dinner, and the social worker promised
to arrange a visit to Soraya’s foster home for them. Ella put the phone down
feeling they’d taken a huge step towards adoption. Soon they’d be able to talk
properly with Soraya’s foster mother, and have afternoon tea with Soraya and
the other children. If they decided to continue, the match would be presented
to the adoption panel for approval, and other and longer visits would follow,
both in Soraya’s home and here at their own place. Ella shivered. This must, it
absolutely must work out for them.

And now it was Friday, the day of their visit to Soraya. Ella
checked the clock on the microwave for the hundredth time. To say that she was
nervous would be a total understatement, she thought, massaging throbbing
temples. Would the famous spark still be there when she saw Soraya? Her lips
tightened as she glanced outside. It was after two o’clock; they would need to
leave soon, and there was Rick, strolling up and down the garden with his phone
pinned to one ear. He was one of those people who had problems taking an
afternoon off work. Or rather, work had problems when Rick took a few hours
off, something he’d had to do several times since they’d started the adoption procedure.
To make up the time he often worked for a few hours on Saturdays. Rick’s was a
good, well-paid job – Brompton & Son had branches all over the globe – all
she could hope was it would leave him enough time for fatherhood.

Ella sighed. Whatever this call was, it was important, if
the look on Rick’s face was anything to go by. She banged on the window and
pointed to her wrist, and he gave her a thumbs-up sign. Good.

Upstairs, Ella stood in the doorway of the larger spare
bedroom. If things went well, they would need to redecorate in here. What was
Soraya’s favourite colour? Most little girls liked pink, but something was
telling Ella that Soraya wasn’t like most little girls. She went into her own
room; heavens, what were you supposed to wear for your first visit to the child
who might, one day, be your daughter? Ella pulled on black jeans and a green
shirt, then fastened a string of onyx beads round her neck. A brooch she’d worn
as a child caught her eye; a vivid turquoise enamel butterfly on a gold base;
she’d inherited it from her grandmother. Would she be able to give it to her
own granddaughter, some day far in the future? Ella hugged herself. In a way
she felt like a child this afternoon – such a shivery, magical feeling, like
the day before Christmas, or her birthday. She shouldn’t get too far ahead
here, but oh, this felt right. Soraya was special. Their child, please God
their child.

Mel and Ben, Soraya’s foster parents, lived in Redruth, a
small inland town half an hour up the A30. As usual when they went somewhere
together, Rick drove. The sea on Ella’s left was deep blue today, tinged with
green nearer the beach, and she gloried in the thought that maybe, maybe this
summer they could go to the beach and play with Soraya. They’d be able to do
all the fun mum and dad things. Rick was silent. He’d been snappy since his
phone call, and Ella wondered if he regretted agreeing to visit Soraya. But
when he spoke she realised he’d been mulling over the ramifications of becoming
a three-person household.

‘If we go ahead you’d need to do something about your Smart
car,’ he said.

‘We can sell it. Two cars are a bit of a luxury, anyway. And
if we get her, I’ll want to give up working for a year or two. I’ve spoken to
Sheila West – the temp we had last year while Jill was on maternity leave would
like to come back, so I can stop anytime.’

Rick grunted, and Ella sat thinking about the questions she
had for Mel. Soraya had been in care since she was ten months old, but had only
recently been released for adoption. Her current foster home was her sixth. It
seemed like a lot of being shifted around for a very young child who could have
used some stability.

Mel’s home was a 1930s, detached house on the edge of the
Redruth. Soraya was standing at a downstairs window when Rick pulled up
outside. She immediately vanished, to reappear at the front door, and Ella’s
heart thumped uncomfortably as she and the child faced each other. Soraya’s
hair was in bunches today, and her black leggings and oversized t-shirt emphasised
her slightness.

‘Are you going to play with me?’

Her eyes were huge, and the lump in Ella’s throat was so big
she could hardly speak. Oh yes, this was her child. Please, please, this had to
work out for them.

She blinked hard and managed to speak normally. ‘We’re
having a chat with your Auntie Mel first, and then I’m sure we’ll have enough
time to play.’

‘Bum. I wanted a long time.’

‘You’re here!’ Soraya’s foster mother came up behind her.
‘In you come. Soraya, you’ve said hello, so off you go and do your homework
while we have a chat. I’ll call you down when we’re ready.’

Ella smiled warmly at the child and followed Mel into a
sunny sitting room where three shabby sofas were grouped round a red brick
fireplace. The tightness in her middle eased when Ella saw that ‘Auntie Mel’
was pleasant and informal. The older woman talked about Soraya’s life in the
foster family, giving Ella the impression that the girl was a handful, but with
the right guidance an easy enough child to live with.

‘The thing to do with Soraya is set clear boundaries right
from the word go,’ she said. ‘She’s been here eight months and she’s really
come along well.’

‘Why has she had so many foster homes?’ asked Ella.

‘She was unlucky a couple of times – one set of foster
parents had to give up because of illness in the family, and in another place
Soraya had massive issues with the couple’s own child. For a long time the aim
was to reunite her with her mother, but she died last year. Soraya was sent to
us on a long-term placement, and if she isn’t adopted she’ll stay here.’

Mel had given them a way out, thought Ella as she and Rick
went upstairs to Soraya’s room. Knowing the child had a permanent foster home
now would make it easier to step away. Would Rick still agree to carry on, knowing
Soraya’s foster mother thought she was a ‘handful’?

The little girl danced around the bedroom she shared with
her eleven-year-old foster-sister, showing them her possessions and chattering
non-stop. Ella sat on the bed and devoured the child with her eyes. Did Soraya
know they were interested in adopting her? If she did she made no mention of
it. She produced a variety of soft toys for them to admire, and allowed Ella to
reorganise the doll’s house. Rick asked about reading and was shown a box of
picture books. He pulled out
The Tiger Who Came To Tea
,
and Soraya sat on the floor while Ella read aloud.

‘Ever seen a real tiger?’ asked Ella, after the story.
Soraya shook her head.

‘Never been to the zoo?’

Another shake. Then, heartbreakingly, ‘Who are you?’

Ella reached out and squeezed the small hand. ‘We’re your
visitors. We hope we’ll be able to come again, and maybe you’ll visit us too.’

‘Like Auntie Mel?’

‘No, we’re not foster parents. We’re just – people.’

‘Can we go to the zoo, then?’

Ella nudged Rick – this was supposed to be a three-way
conversation – but he made no move to speak. She turned back to Soraya. ‘That’s
a great idea and if it’s possible, we will. I’ll find out and let you know next
time, okay?’

Mel called them down for coffee, and Ella watched as Soraya
interacted with her foster family. Mel was pleasant to the child but very firm,
and Soraya sat nicely at the table, eating her piece of lemon drizzle cake with
no sign of the buzz of chatter from upstairs.

‘Are you enjoying your visit, Soraya?’ said Mel, when the
little girl passed her glass for more juice. Soraya nodded, and Mel patted her
shoulder. ‘Good girl.’

The words were friendly, the gesture was motherly, but the
smile didn’t quite reach Mel’s eyes. Appalled, Ella realised that the other
woman was looking after Soraya kindly and efficiently, but without loving her.
And Soraya knew it.

It was hard saying goodbye. All Ella wanted to do was fold
the child into her arms and hold her tight, and that was precisely what she
wasn’t supposed to do yet.

‘I hope we’ll be able to visit you again very soon,’ she
said at last, holding Soraya’s gaze. The girl stood for a moment without
speaking, then turned and ran upstairs.

Ella was silent as they started back to St Ives. After a
while she pulled out her mobile. ‘I said I’d phone Liz. What do you think?’

 Rick’s voice was void of expression. ‘If you want Soraya,
go for it. It’s your decision, after all, I - ’

He broke off, and Ella stared at him, her thumb hovering
over Liz’s number.

‘You what?’

He rubbed his face. ‘I – I’d be at work all day, so you’d be
more hands-on than me.’

His expression was guarded. Ella hesitated, then pressed
connect. The sooner they got this process started, the better.

Thursday 15th – Friday 16th May

Amanda still hadn’t had a satisfactory talk with James about
the baby; she had no idea what he was thinking and it wasn’t a good feeling.
She’d even started biting her nails again, something she’d stopped when she was
fifteen. Part of the problem was they hadn’t managed to meet since she’d told
him, as Gareth was at home with a virus at the beginning of the week. It was
horrible, not knowing which direction her life would take. Would her future be
with James and excitement, or Gareth and safety and family? Sometimes all she
wanted was to turn the clock back to the days when she and Gareth were happy
together, and hold on to that happiness as hard as ever she could. But that was
impossible. James was part of her life now, and his reaction would shape what she
told Gareth, which in turn would shape what became of her life – and Jaden’s
too. Amanda blinked back tears. She might have destroyed her child’s happy
little family life.

However you looked at it, her marriage was in trouble.
Gareth was so fanatical about his work, and that would only get worse when he
started the new job next month. Tears of self-pity welled up in Amanda’s eyes.
Her husband would barely notice if she and Jaden packed their things and left
today.

On the other hand, if James ran a mile without saying
goodbye, it might be best to say nothing about the affair to Gareth. The two
men were alike enough that she didn’t have to worry about the baby taking after
its father. Both were tall and dark, although Gareth had unusual grey eyes that
he’d passed on to Jaden, and James’ were brown like hers.