He could keep them waiting for as long as he wanted and they had to put up with it.
Returning from the bathroom, Ian sat beside Elaine on the edge of the bed and pressed the speaker button on the phone so they could both hear the conversation. He keyed in the number to the orphanage and to their surprise it was answered straight away by Dr Ciobanu.
‘It’s Ian Hudson,’ he said, a slight tremor in his voice.
‘Hello. How are you?’ the doctor asked jovially, apparently oblivious to the worry he’d caused them. Elaine wrung her hands in her lap.
‘We’re OK,’ Ian said. ‘But we were expecting you to phone this morning about our visit this afternoon.’
‘Yes, come here tomorrow with your paperwork.’
‘Not today?’ Ian asked.
‘No. I have a visitor from the government coming this afternoon. Tomorrow is good.’ Which again they had to accept.
‘All right. So everything went well with the mother?’
‘Yes.’
‘She has consented to the adoption?’
‘Yes, of course. You and your wife will have to learn to trust me. I know what I am doing.’
‘Yes, I’m sure you do. I’m sorry,’ Ian said quickly. ‘We’re just very anxious, having lost Lana. We couldn’t bear another loss.’
‘And you won’t have to. Come here tomorrow at two and you can spend time with your daughter.’
‘Thank you so much.’
‘You’re welcome.’
Chapter Four
With their confidence in Dr Ciobanu restored, and looking forward to seeing Anastasia again, Elaine and Ian passed the following morning with a visit to the local supermarket. It wasn’t a large shop but it was crammed full of every type of good imaginable, including groceries, pharmaceuticals, underwear and socks, toys, beer, hardware and numerous miscellaneous items. There was also a box of Christmas decorations, even though it was only August. They bought bottled water, and some bread and ham for their lunch, as it was too expensive to keep eating in the hotel and there weren’t any cheap restaurants or cafés close by. They also found a colouring book, crayons and a doll for Anastasia. Lana would have been too young for these – they had packed nappies, baby food and first-year toys for her, which were still in the suitcase. They’d also brought with them clothes to fit Lana that would be far too small for Anastasia. They’d have to buy more here before the adoption, as they knew the children often arrived at court only with what they stood up in.
They returned to their hotel room to eat their picnic-style lunch, and then with Elaine carrying the bag of toys for Anastasia and Ian his briefcase containing the paperwork for Dr Ciobanu, they waited in the lobby for the cab. They’d booked it for fifteen minutes earlier than it needed to be, to allow time for it being late, so in fact it arrived to collect them on time. ‘I’ve cracked it!’ Ian joked to Elaine, and she laughed conspiratorially. How much happier they were now.
It was the same driver they’d had on their first trip to the orphanage and he greeted them like long lost friends, shaking their hands warmly and asking how they were. ‘Perhaps we’re tipping him too much,’ Ian whispered to Elaine as they climbed into the cab.
But it was rather nice – reassuring – to see a familiar friendly face in a country where they knew no one and didn’t speak the language. He was eager to know what had happened since he’d last seen them, when they’d arrived at the orphanage to be told Lana was dead. Ian briefly explained about meeting the doctor and Anastasia the day before and that the adoption was going ahead. The driver was very pleased for them and didn’t seem to mind that they weren’t using the lady his cousin knew. ‘So I’ll be seeing lots of you,’ he said, for he knew the procedure. Couples usually visited the child most days while they waited for the adoption to go through.
He parked outside the orphanage, and as Ian and Elaine got out he wished them luck and confirmed he would be waiting for them when they came out – it didn’t matter how long they were. Trying to summon a cab outside the towns and cities was highly unreliable and most cab drivers were happy to wait for hours if necessary. It added a little to their income and saved the clients a lot of aggravation.
Ian rattled the gate to alert the staff to their presence and the driver gave a blast of the car horn. A few moments later Dr Ciobanu appeared.
‘Good afternoon,’ he called brightly, coming down the path. He unlocked the gate and warmly shook their hands and said hello to the driver. ‘So are we all good?’ he asked Ian and Elaine as they followed him inside.
‘Yes, thank you,’ they replied.
‘You slept well? And the hotel is comfortable?’ he asked, showing them into his office.
‘Yes, it’s fine, thank you,’ Ian said. Although staying in the hotel was purely practical. They’d been warned that the cheaper guest houses were very basic and unclean and the court wouldn’t be happy knowing the child would be taken to one of them. There would be at least a week between the adoption order being granted and the adoption papers, her passport and visa being issued. During which time Anastasia would be with them. While many children lived in far worse conditions than those found in guest houses, the courts expected better from the adoptive parents.
The orphanage was quiet as usual, and Ian and Elaine sat at the table in Dr Ciobanu’s office as he offered them a glass of water, which they politely refused. He sat opposite them, their folder and other paperwork on the table in front of him. ‘So I have spoken to Anastasia’s mother,’ he said, taking a sip of his water. ‘She has agreed to you seeing the child for an hour each day before the adoption, but she has requested you do not take her outside.’
‘OK,’ Ian said. ‘Can I ask why?’
‘It’s normal. The mothers are concerned you may abduct or harm the child.’ They nodded. ‘She has also asked that she has new clothes. Again, this is usual. She is very poor and what we have at the orphanage is basic. You have brought some with you?’
‘Yes,’ Elaine said. It was on their instruction sheet. ‘But they were for Lana. They are far too small for Anastasia. We were looking at some children’s clothes this morning at the local supermarket but they didn’t have much choice.’
‘No. I will give you the address of a proper children’s shop in town. You can go there.’ He scribbled the address on the notepad, tore it off and passed it to Elaine. ‘It’s about a twenty-minute cab ride from your hotel. The driver will know where it is.’
‘Thank you,’ Elaine said, and tucked the paper carefully into her bag.
‘The clothes you brought with you for the other child you can donate to the orphanage,’ Dr Ciobanu said. ‘We rely on donations.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Ian said, although he would have liked to have been asked rather than instructed. They both knew
