Contents Cover Title Page Copyright Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Chapter Forty-Six Epilogue Moved by Taken ? Also available Moving Memoirs eNewsletter About the Publisher
Copyright Contents Cover Title Page Copyright Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Chapter Forty-Six Epilogue Moved by Taken ? Also available Moving Memoirs eNewsletter About the Publisher
Certain details in this story, including names, places and dates, have been changed to protect the family’s privacy.
HarperElement
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First published by HarperElement 2017
FIRST EDITION
© Rosie Lewis 2017
Cover layout design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2017
Cover photograph © Victoria Haack/Trevillion Images (posed by model)
A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
Rosie Lewis asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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Source ISBN: 9780008113018
Ebook Edition © January 2017 ISBN: 9780008171322
Version: 2016-12-19
Cover
Title Page Contents Cover Title Page Copyright Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Chapter Forty-Six Epilogue Moved by Taken ? Also available Moving Memoirs eNewsletter About the Publisher
Copyright
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Epilogue
Moved by Taken ?
Also available
Moving Memoirs eNewsletter
About the Publisher
I remember everything about the day it happened. The way the wispy white clouds moved across the sky above the glass roof of our conservatory, the accompanying breeze caressing the dark-green leaves of the apple tree in our garden so that the fruit-laden branches swayed low, kissing the silver-white bark of the trunk. I remember hearing Emily, Jamie and Megan’s voices blending together as they moved around not far from where I sat at the computer desk, the occasional shriek when one of them made Megan laugh.
The date was 29 August 2013 and it was just five days after the letter had arrived from the adoption team confirming that we were to be assessed as adopters.
Afterwards I cursed myself for checking my emails, wishing I had delayed the moment for just a little while longer, savouring the glorious, happy ordinariness of the day. Earlier we had driven across town to visit my brother Chris, stopping off at a farm on the way home to pick some strawberries. Megan had gorged herself as she pottered, basket over her arm, and the sweet smell of the fruit lingered on her skin long after I had washed her hands.
Leaving her to wash the fruit in a bowl on her small table, I had switched the computer on with the intention of printing out some pictures from the CBeebies website for her to colour. As often happens, I got sidetracked, and ended up logging onto my emails instead. Among the adverts and reminders, one of them stood out.
It was from the adoption team.
Dear Rosie
On further examination of Megan’s file, it has come to our attention that her birth mother has had contact in your home, a fact the adoption team has only recently become aware of. Unfortunately, after careful consideration and a full risk assessment, we feel that Megan’s interests would be best served by placing her with an existing adoptive family in a secure location, somewhere she cannot possibly be traced.
I understand this may come as disappointing news to you and your family, but, as I’m sure you will appreciate, Megan’s best interests and personal safety are paramount. We feel you have many attributes that would make you an excellent adoptive parent and welcome the opportunity to assess you on behalf of another child.
Please feel free to contact me if you feel there is anything you would like me to clarify.
Best
Veronica
It was only when I touched my hands to my face that I realised I was crying. At the sound of footsteps, I quickly clicked the mouse to minimise the screen and pushed the keyboard away from me. ‘What’s wrong?’ Emily asked, coming up behind the swivel chair.
‘Nothing,’ I said, with a quick sniff. I couldn’t face telling her right at that moment. I didn’t know how to break it to her, for a start, and part of me wanted to deal with my own feelings before I shared the news with anyone else. There was no way I could put a positive spin on Megan leaving, feeling the way I did.
‘M-u-m,’ Emily said chidingly. ‘I’m not a little girl any more. And I’m not as dumb as you think.’
I gave my eyes a brisk rub. ‘Of course you’re not dumb,’ I said, angling myself away and pretending to tidy up the pens on the desktop while I tried to organise my face into a smile. ‘I know you’re not dumb.’ I took a breath and grabbed the mouse, pulling the email back onto the screen. I turned to look at her. ‘It’s not very good news I’m afraid, sweetheart.’
‘That’s so unfair!’ Emily said feelingly, as she read the message over my shoulder. ‘They can’t do that, can they?’
‘She’s not ours, love,’ I said softly, wheeling the chair back and standing up. I slipped my arm around her midriff. I could feel her trembling with emotion. ‘We let ourselves forget it, but Megan doesn’t belong to us.’
Later that day, as we walked up the path to my mum’s house, the edge of the curtain in her front room fluttered. She was expecting us. ‘Here they come!’ I heard Mum call out from inside, even though she lived alone.
Megan charged ahead. ‘Nanny!’ she cried.
There is something so comforting about my mother’s house. Nothing ever seemed to change, from the clematis climbing up and over her door, to the peppermint smell of home cooking rising to greet us as soon as we walked into the hall. ‘Hello, my little treasure,’ Mum said, swooping Megan into her arms and kissing Emily and Jamie on the top of their heads. ‘Well, would you look at those long faces,’ she said as she ushered us in.
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