the paperwork was now in court.
During the long hours of the night as they lay awake they tried to think of practical alternatives. Elaine said that possibly she could stay so at least Anastasia could see her each day, but they certainly couldn’t afford for her to stay in the hotel.
‘Perhaps I could find a cheap room in a lodging house like those students?’ Elaine suggested doubtfully. For even as she said it her stomach churned. She wasn’t an adventurous person, and, a little on the shy side, she relied heavily on Ian. The thought of spending three months separated from him in a foreign country among people she didn’t know and where she didn’t speak the language filled her with dread.
‘Not unless I fly out each weekend,’ Ian replied to her. ‘But the cost of that would be prohibitive.’
Still awake at 2 a.m. they reached their lowest point. ‘I’m beginning to regret ever starting international adoption,’ Elaine said, close to tears. ‘It’s been one heartache after another. First Lana and now this.’
‘Don’t say that,’ Ian chided, drawing her close. ‘We’ve come this far. Let’s try to focus on the positives. The court date is definitely set. All our paperwork is in and Anastasia’s mother hasn’t changed her mind.’ Which they knew from other couples did happen – the parent(s) changed their minds or a relative came forward to look after the child at the last moment. ‘And think about all those families we’ve been talking to online who have successfully adopted despite all the setbacks,’ Ian added.
‘Yes.’ Elaine conceded he had a point. ‘I wonder if anyone has experienced what we’re going through,’ she said.
‘I’m sure they have,’ Ian said. ‘But once the adoption is granted you probably forget all the bad things.’
Finally, in the early hours, they fell into an exhausted sleep, but Ian was awake early. Leaving Elaine asleep, he quietly slipped into his clothes and went down into reception, which had the best phone signal, and from there he messaged Maggie, the founder of their online group for international adoption. She and her husband had adopted four children from two different countries and were happy to share their knowledge and encourage those going through the process for the first time. Ian messaged her that their court date had been postponed for three months and they had been told to return home, and they weren’t sure what to do for the best. He then waited in reception to see if she would reply straight away, and five minutes later his phone bleeped with a message.
Sorry to hear about the delay, Ian. A disappointment but I’ve heard of other cases. You can’t do anything so fly home as Dr C said. We can chat when you get back. I am sure the adoption will go through. Don’t lose heart. You’ll have the rest of your lives with your child. M x
Which was exactly the message of hope Ian needed. He returned to their hotel room, and when Elaine woke he showed her the message and she, too, took comfort from it.
Nevertheless, it was with heavy hearts that they confirmed their flight home and then made the most of their last few days with Anastasia, but spending time with her now was bittersweet. While they wanted to make the most of every minute, they were acutely aware they wouldn’t be seeing her for three long months and would miss her dreadfully. They tried to talk to her about what was going to happen and told her they loved her, but it was doubtful she understood. It was impossible to know what she was thinking or feeling, and if Dr Ciobanu had said anything to her to explain, it wasn’t obvious from her behaviour.
On their penultimate day they bumped into Mel and Pam, who were working the night shift, and Elaine told them they were having to return home as their court date had been postponed for three months. The girls were very sympathetic and said they would keep an eye on Anastasia while they were here. But of course they were due to return home a week later and after that Ian and Elaine assumed the children would be left in the care of the two workers again. It was very worrying. They felt protective of Anastasia and wanted to keep her safe.
On the last day they took all the toys and clothes they’d brought for her that hadn’t gone missing into the orphanage and left them in carrier bags marked with her name in Dr Ciobanu’s office. Hopefully, at least some of them would be used by her. Then they had to say goodbye and it was heartbreaking. Anastasia walked between them down the path holding a hand each and the care worker unlocked the gate. As they bent to Anastasia’s height they tried to hide their emotion, but their pain must have been obvious.
‘Goodbye for now, love, don’t forget us,’ Elaine said, her eyes immediately filling. ‘We won’t forget you. We’ll put your photograph in our living room so you are with us all the time. We love you so much.’ She kissed Anastasia’s cheek and straightened. She couldn’t take much more.
Ian kissed Anastasia but couldn’t say anything.
They left her at the gate with the care worker and climbed into the cab. Danny knew this was their last visit for three months and didn’t immediately pull away. They both looked out of the side window. Usually, as soon as the care worker had locked the gate they returned inside, but now Anastasia clung to the wire netting, pressing her face against it and looking at them. It was one of the few occasions she made eye contact and it was pitiful. Elaine and Ian saw the pain and rejection in her eyes. She might not have been able to tell them in words what she was feeling, but her eyes said it all. Her mother had left her and now they were leaving too.
‘We’ll be back soon,’ Elaine said through the window. But the image on Anastasia’s little face imploring them not to go would haunt them in the months to come.
It was Danny who took them to the airport the next day and he seemed to appreciate that they didn’t want to talk much. He had the radio on low, tuned to a local station, and wasn’t his usual chatty self, only occasionally making a remark – about the weather or traffic. As they neared the airport he said, ‘I’m sorry you have to go home without your child.’
‘It’s not your fault, Danny,’ Ian said.
‘But I have got to know you during our trips to the orphanage so I am sorry. Perhaps if I have time I can visit Anastasia and tell her you will be back soon.’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Ian said. Elaine kept quiet, struggling to hold back fresh tears.
At the airport Danny parked in the passenger drop-off area and took their cases from the boot. ‘I see you here in three months’ time,’ he said more cheerfully. ‘When you book the cab ask for Danny and I come to meet you.’
‘We will. Thank you for everything,’ Ian said, and they shook hands warmly. They felt they had at least one friend in the country who understood.
Elaine and Ian were emotionally exhausted from all they’d been through and slept for most of the flight, even though it was daytime. In England they had to take a train from the airport to their home town and then a cab to their house. It was late evening when they arrived at their modest three-bedroom house, but its neatly tended front garden seemed very bright and upmarket after the drabness of the orphanage. Their neighbour had been cutting their lawn, watering the plants and generally keeping an eye on the place while they’d been away. They’d messaged her with the date they’d be back, adding that the adoption had been postponed. They’d see her tomorrow to thank her and give her the gift they’d bought, but for now they just wanted to get inside.
As they set their cases down in the hall the comfortable, welcoming familiarity they usually felt on returning home was now tainted with the knowledge that they should have been returning as a family. Upstairs was the nursery, decorated and ready with a
