the care worker said again, and Elaine handed her the bag. They’d left the teddy bear with Lana’s name on it in their hotel room and they’d ask Dr Ciobanu when they next saw him if it would be possible to put it on Lana’s grave.
‘Where is Anastasia?’ Elaine now asked.
The care worker nodded in the direction of the ‘playroom’ and they went in. She wasn’t there. The stained and faded beanbag and small heap of broken toys sat forlornly where they’d been the day before. ‘The care worker has probably gone to fetch her,’ Ian said, looking round.
A minute or so later a child’s footsteps could be heard running down the corridor, then Anastasia flew into the room. She looked pleased to see them.
‘Hello, love,’ Elaine said, going to her. ‘How are you?’ The care worker closed the door behind her.
Anastasia spotted the carrier bag Elaine held and, remembering that a similar bag had held gifts the day before, tugged at it.
‘Yes, they are for you,’ Elaine said, smiling, and took out the activity centre. ‘Come on, let’s sit down and we’ll show you how it works.’
Intrigued, Anastasia went with them and sat beside Elaine on the beanbag as Ian sat on the floor on the other side of her. Elaine placed the activity centre on Anastasia’s lap and together she and Ian began showing her how it worked, pressing the various brightly coloured keys to give a letter of the alphabet, number or colour, followed by a four-note tune. Anastasia tapped a few of the keys and then peered into the carrier bag to see what else was in there. Elaine took out one of the jigsaw puzzles and remarked to Ian, ‘I wonder where her doll, crayons and colouring book that we brought in yesterday are?’ They’d left them in the playroom.
‘Perhaps she has them in her cot?’ Ian suggested.
‘Doll?’ Elaine asked Anastasia, hoping the child might recognize the word from the day before. But she was more interested in the puzzle.
They showed her how the pieces went together and then Anastasia wanted to see what else was in the bag. Elaine took out the second puzzle, but as she and Ian began to assemble it the child lost interest again. With the carrier bag empty, Anastasia picked up Elaine’s handbag.
‘I know what you’re after,’ Elaine said, smiling. ‘You want to see the photographs on my phone. Shall we do the jigsaw first and then look at photographs?’
But Anastasia didn’t like that idea and was most insistent on opening Elaine’s handbag, babbling in her own language. Elaine set the jigsaw to one side and took out her phone. She then went through the photographs as she had done the day before, telling Anastasia what they were and repeating simple words like ‘house’ and ‘ball’, hoping Anastasia would try to say the words.
Having got to the end of Elaine’s photos, Anastasia began tugging on Ian’s arm, signalling that she wanted to see the photographs on his phone. He laughed indulgently and took out his phone. Anastasia wanted to hold it and he let her. She began pressing the keys and then didn’t want to return it. Fearing the phone might get broken or his messages and contacts erased, Ian gently eased it from her hand. She wasn’t happy and jumped up from the beanbag and ran to the window, where she banged on the glass. Not wanting to upset her, Ian relented and held out his phone. Anastasia returned to the beanbag and then spent some minutes pressing various buttons before losing interest and discarding it in favour of the activity centre.
Anastasia clearly had a personality and will of her own, but that was good, wasn’t it? It showed she was intelligent and developing normally. Elaine had read that children of Anastasia’s age sought greater autonomy and exerted their will power, which could lead to tantrums, hence the expression ‘the terrible twos’. But all in all they felt their time with Anastasia had gone well. They had a lot to learn as new parents as well as getting to know Anastasia. She hadn’t been as agitated and unsettled as she had been the day before, and while she’d gone to the window a number of times, it had been easy to persuade her away. She seemed more comfortable around them (they weren’t complete strangers any more), and although she hadn’t settled to an activity for very long, it was early days yet and many two-year-olds have short attention spans.
When the hour was up, Ian and Elaine felt they could have stayed a little longer, but mindful of what Dr Ciobanu had said about keeping to the hour, they began to pack away. Anastasia wanted to keep the activity centre, which was fine. They went to find a care worker to say they were going. ‘This toy is for Anastasia,’ Elaine said, pointing to the activity centre. The care worker nodded as though she understood. ‘Do you know where her doll and crayons are?’ Elaine asked. The care worker frowned, puzzled, either not knowing or not understanding. ‘Doll?’ Elaine said, and mimed a small baby in her arms. The care worker shook her head. ‘Crayons?’ Elaine said, moving her hand as though drawing. The care worker shrugged. Anastasia babbled something in her own language and the care worker shrugged and shook her head.
‘Don’t worry,’ Ian said to Elaine. ‘If they don’t turn up we’ll ask Dr Ciobanu where they are when we see him.’ It wasn’t that the toys had been expensive – they hadn’t been – but they’d been the first gifts they’d given to Anastasia and for this reason the doll especially would have sentimental value in years to come.
As they began to say goodbye, to their delight, instead of sending Anastasia away while the care worker saw them out, she was allowed to go with them to the gate. Elaine offered Anastasia her hand to hold as they walked but she refused, which was hardly surprising, as she barely knew them. They said goodbye to her at the gate and then waved as Anastasia watched them get into the cab. The care worker locked the gate.
‘Nice-looking kid,’ Danny said, and they both agreed.
That evening Ian and Elaine felt confident enough that everything was going as planned to message their family and friends with an update. Elaine’s parents were dead but she had a sister who, while not living close, had been very supportive and was eagerly awaiting news. Ian’s parents lived closer but had expressed reservations about their plans to adopt from abroad; however his brother and his family had wished them well. Ian messaged his parents that everything was fine and not to worry, and sent his brother a few extra details about the orphanage and their time with Anastasia. They also updated the friends they’d made online in the international adoption support group forums.
They slept well, and the next day continued the routine that was likely to see them through to the court hearing when Anastasia would become theirs. In the morning they walked to the local supermarket where they stocked up on bottled water and bought fresh bread, cheese and cooked meats for their lunch, and in the afternoon they took the cab to the orphanage. When they arrived Anastasia was in one of the dresses they’d bought for her and the new sandals. She looked lovely and more like their child now that she was wearing what they had chosen for her. ‘We’ll have to buy her a hairbrush and some bands and I’ll braid her hair,’ Elaine said as they settled in the playroom. Every mother wants to see her child looking smart and their hair neat. Anastasia’s hair was long and unkempt.
There was still no sign of the doll, crayons or colouring book, but Anastasia had the activity centre they’d left with her the day before, so they played with that, plus the new toys in the bag they’d brought with them. These included a toy mobile phone, which sounded a recorded message when the numbers were pressed. The hope was that Anastasia would play with this rather than their phones, but their hope was short-lived. Although she liked pressing the buttons and listening to the recorded messages – Hello, how are you? and similar – it didn’t contain the photographs that Elaine’s and Ian’s phones did. Anastasia was very insistent that she should play with both their phones, and
