Cathy Glass - The Night the Angels Came

‘If possible, yes.’

It was obviously a huge undertaking, and while I could see that of course father and son would want to see as much of each other as possible I was wondering about the logistics of the arrangement, and also how Adrian and Paula would feel at being bundled into the car each day after school and driven across town to the hospital instead of going home and relaxing.

‘Were you thinking Cathy would stay for visiting too?’ Jill asked, clearly appreciating my unspoken concerns.

‘Not necessarily,’ Patrick said. ‘Cathy has her own family to look after and Michael is old enough to be left in the hospital with me. It would just need someone to bring and collect him.’

‘If Cathy wasn’t able to do it every day,’ Jill said to Patrick, ‘would you be happy if we used an escort to bring and collect Michael? We use escorts for school runs sometimes. All the drivers are vetted.’

‘Yes, that’s fine with me,’ he said. ‘It shouldn’t be necessary for a long time, as I intend staying in my home for as long as possible, until I am no longer able to look after myself.’ Which made me feel small-minded and churlish for not agreeing to the arrangement outright.

‘It’s not a problem,’ I said quickly. ‘I’ll make sure Michael visits you every day.’

‘Thank you, Cathy,’ Patrick said, then with a small laugh: ‘And don’t worry, you won’t have to arrange my funeral: I’ve done it.’

I met Patrick’s gaze and hadn’t a clue what to say. I nodded dumbly. Jill and Stella made no comment either, for what could we possibly say?

‘So,’ Stella said, after a moment, ‘do either of you have any more questions or issues you wish to explore?’

I shook my head. ‘I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘No,’ Patrick said. ‘I would like it if Cathy agreed to look after Michael. I would be very grateful.’

I was looking down again, concentrating on the floor. ‘And what is your feeling, Cathy?’ Stella asked. ‘Or would you like some time to think about it?’

‘No, I don’t need more time,’ I said. ‘And Patrick deserves an answer now.’ I felt everyone’s eyes on me. Especially Jill on my right, who, I sensed, was cautioning me against saying something I should take time to consider. ‘I will look after Michael,’ I said. ‘I’d be happy to.’

‘Thank you,’ Patrick said. ‘God bless you.’ And for the first time I heard his voice tremble with emotion.

Chapter Five Treasure

Usually, once I’ve made a decision I’m positive and just get on with the task in hand. But now, as I left the council offices and began the drive to collect Paula from nursery, I was plagued with misgiving and doubt. Had I made the right decision in offering to look after Michael or had I simply felt sorry for Patrick? What effect would it have on Adrian and Paula? What effect would it have on me? Then I thought of Patrick and Michael and all they were going through and immediately felt guilty and selfish for thinking of myself.

I switched my thoughts and tried to concentrate on the practical. At the end of the meeting we’d arranged for Patrick and Michael to visit the following evening at 6.00. I now considered their visit and what I could do to make them feel relaxed and at home. Although I’d had parents visit prior to their child staying before, it was very unusual. One mother had visited prior to her daughter staying when she was due to go into hospital (she didn’t have anyone else to look after her child); another set of parents had visited before their son (with very challenging behaviour) had begun a respite stay to give them a break. Both children were in care under a voluntary care order (now called a Section 20), where the parents retain all legal rights and responsibilities. This was how Michael would be looked after, but that was where any similarity ended: the other children had returned home to their parents. And whereas the other visits had been brief – I’d showed the family around the house and explained our routine – I thought Patrick and Michael’s visit needed to be more in-depth, to give them a feeling of our home life which would, I hoped, reassure them both. I decided the best way to do this would be for us to try and carry on as ‘normal’, and then tormented myself by picturing Patrick and Michael sitting on the sofa and Adrian and Paula staring at them in silence.

At dinner that evening I told Adrian and Paula that Patrick and Michael would be coming for a visit the following evening to meet them and see the house. ‘So let’s make sure they feel welcome and the house is tidy,’ I added, glancing at Adrian.

He looked at me guiltily, for even allowing for the fact that eight-year-old boys were not renowned for their tidiness the mess he managed to generate sometimes was incredible. It was often impossible to walk across his bedroom floor for toys, all of which he assured me had to remain in place, as otherwise his game would be ruined. I was never quite sure what exactly ‘the game’ was but it seemed to rely on all his toy cars and models – of dinosaurs, famous people and the planets – covering the carpet and being scooped up and then put down again in a different places by a large plastic dumper truck, which made a hideous hooting sound when it reversed. But the game had kept him, visiting friends and sometimes Paula occupied for hours in recent months, and had only been tidied away when I’d vacuumed.

‘Suppose I’d better tidy my room,’ Adrian muttered, understanding my hint.

‘That would be good,’ I said.

‘Is Michael coming to stay, then?’ Paula asked.

‘Yes, but not tomorrow. Tomorrow he and his father are just coming for a visit so that they can see what our home is like before Michael has to move in.’

‘When’s he moving in?’ Adrian asked.

‘I’m not sure yet. It will depend on his father. I met him today. He’s a lovely man. Sometimes he has to speak slowly to catch his breath.’ I thought I should mention this so that the children wouldn’t stare or, worse, comment. Adrian was old enough to know not to comment, but I could picture Paula asking Patrick, ‘Why are you talking funny?’ as a young child can.

‘Why does he speak slowly?’ Paula now asked.

‘Because he’s ill,’ Adrian informed her.

‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘Sometimes it takes all Patrick’s energy to talk, although he does very well.’

‘I see,’ Paula said quietly, and we continued with our meal.

The following day I took Adrian to school, and Paula to nursery, and then did a supermarket shop. I came home and by the time I’d unpacked all the bags it was time to collect Paula from nursery. The afternoon vanished in playing with Paula and housework, and it was soon time to collect Adrian from school. Those who don’t have children sometimes wonder what stay-at-home mothers (or fathers) find to do all day; and indeed I was guilty of this before I gave up work to look after my children and foster. Now I know!

At 5.40 p.m. the children were eating their pudding when the doorbell rang. ‘You finish your meal,’ I said, standing. ‘It might be Patrick and Michael arriving early.’

Although the children hadn’t mentioned Michael and his father since the previous evening, they hadn’t been far from my thoughts, especially when I’d prepared the spare bedroom that afternoon so that it would look welcoming when Michael saw it. Now as I went down the hall towards the front door my heart began pounding as all my anxieties and misgivings returned. I just hoped, as I had done prior to the meeting, I didn’t say anything silly or embarrassing that would upset Patrick and now Michael.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door with a smile. ‘Hello,’ I said evenly. ‘Good to see you both.’