Taken: Part 3 of 3. Rosie Lewis
yeah, you said all that already. But that’s her mum sitting there,’ Christina interrupted, jabbing her forefinger at me. ‘Or it may as fucking well be. It ain’t me who got up to her every night when she was puking, was it? I’d have loved to have that chance, but ’cos of you lot I couldn’t. So Rosie did it instead. And she always dressed her beautiful. Remember that pink tracksuit you put her in?’ she demanded, looking at me. ‘She looked like a princess in that.’ I didn’t think princesses were known for their tracksuits, but Christina could have come out with whatever she liked at that moment, as far as I was concerned. There was a valid reason why Megan couldn’t stay with me – it wasn’t Veronica’s fault, or anyone else’s, but after her initial disapproval, it felt good to hear Christina speaking out for me. I could have hugged her. In fact, in that moment I loved her – her husky voice, the profanities, the bizarre and random one-liners; I loved it all.
‘So what you gonna do with her then? Dump her with strangers?’
Veronica lifted her chin, gathering her composure. ‘Not at all,’ she returned coolly. ‘We’re highly experienced at matching the right child with the right adoptees. As I said before, we have an excellent couple in mind for Megan. We think she’ll be very happy with them.’
‘Perfect couple? Fuck that,’ Christina snapped. ‘They could be divorced next year for all you know. Whereas she’s already fucked things up in that department, so there’s no nasty surprises waiting for her, you get me?’
I choked a cough at that, I couldn’t help myself. I felt very close to giggling. ‘I ain’t being funny or nuffink, Rosie, but you know what I mean. Better the devil you know, ain’t it? And I can see my girl is happy. She counted to ten yesterday, do you know what I mean? That kid’s a genius. Only just two years of age and she counted to ten.’ Christina turned to address the others, the sorrow plain on her face. ‘I had to say goodbye to her, do you hear that? Yesterday, I had to say goodbye to my baby girl. I probably ain’t never gonna see her again. Nearly broke my fucking heart, but knowing she’s with someone that teached her to count, that makes it a little bit better, see? And I thank you for that, Rosie,’ Christina banged her hand flat against her chest again, her eyes fixed on me again. The translucent crescents of tiredness beneath her eyes pulsed a faint blue. ‘I thank you from the bottom of my heart, I really do. I just wish you could adopt me too.’
There was no guile in her. I knew that whatever she said could be taken at face value, and her sincerity touched me. I nodded, gave her a grateful smile, and then returned my attention to the aluminium chairs. I was close to tears myself, but if I’m honest, they were as much for myself as for Christina.
Veronica called two weeks later to let me know that Francis and Mirella Howard had been approved by the adoption panel as a suitable match for Megan. The news came as no surprise to me – like the panels held every three years to reassess a foster carer’s approval, the outcome was usually a foregone conclusion, the relevant paperwork having been submitted to individual panel members weeks in advance – but when Veronica told me that the prospective adopters wanted to meet me, the full magnitude of what was about to happen really started to hit home.
‘Would next week suit you?’ Veronica asked coolly over the line. Megan clambered for the phone. Clutching rolls of my jumper in her hands, she scaled my shins and tried to get a foothold on my knees.
‘Who dat?’ Megan demanded, releasing one hand and swinging from me as she made a grab for the receiver. ‘Me speak Nanny!’ she shouted.
‘It’s not Nanny, sweetie,’ I whispered.
There was a pained silence at the other end of the line. It seemed Veronica was getting impatient. ‘The beginning of October?’ she prompted. ‘We were thinking the afternoon of the 4th.’
I felt a pang in my heart as I confirmed the time and ended the call. I knelt down and folded Megan into my arms. ‘Love you all much, Mama,’ she said, stretching one of her hands as high as it would go. I smiled. ‘I love you all up too,’ I said, kissing the top of her head. A rush of guilt swept over me. Abandoning my application felt like a betrayal of her, despite my doing it with the best of intentions.
On the morning of 4 October I forced myself to eat some toast while the others tucked into their porridge. Ever since Veronica had called about the meeting with the Howards I hadn’t been able to shake the nauseous, swooping feeling in my stomach. Megan’s adoption suddenly became all the more real.
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