it, it was clear that all the child’s hopes lay in being allowed to go out. ‘What about these toys?’ Elaine said, going over to the broken toy cars and four plastic building pots that were already in the room. Anastasia glanced over to where Elaine pointed and then returned her attention to the window.
‘I don’t know what else to do,’ Elaine said to Ian. ‘We’ll have to buy some more interesting toys when we go shopping.’ Then she had a thought. Opening her handbag, she took out her mobile phone and went into the Photo Gallery. ‘Look, Anastasia, pictures!’
The child’s interest was piqued. She turned from the window to look, then allowed Elaine to lead her to the beanbag where she sat between them and they spent a pleasant ten minutes going through the photographs.
‘Well done,’ Ian said to Elaine. ‘When she’s finished with yours we can look at the photos on my phone.’
So the hour passed with photographs, some colouring, sticking and unsticking the Velcro on the doll’s dress, and visits to the window. While Ian and Elaine had thought an hour was a very short time to spend with their future daughter when it had first been mentioned, now it seemed appropriate. They were emotionally exhausted and had also used up their resources so that Anastasia had grown bored with what they had to offer. As well as gazing out of the window she kept looking towards the door, perhaps wondering when it would be opened. When the hour was up and they told her it was time for them to go and went to find someone to tell them they were leaving, she didn’t resist. Far from it. She seemed pleased to see the care worker again and ran to her side, but of course what is familiar feels safe to a young child. Elaine and Ian said goodbye to Anastasia, and the care worker issued an instruction to Anastasia. Without looking back, she ran off into one of the rooms and the care worker saw them out.
As they collapsed into the back of the cab the driver said, ‘First few visits always difficult. You and child strangers. It will get better. I bring a lot of couples here and they look like you to begin with – shell-shocked.’
Ian and Elaine laughed, relieved. ‘That’s the word – shell-shocked,’ Ian said. ‘You speak a lot of sense.’
‘You tell my wife that!’ the driver replied with a cheeky grin.
Chapter Five
Back in their hotel room, Ian and Elaine went over the time they’d spent with Anastasia, holding a post-mortem on the things they felt they’d got right and those they hadn’t.
‘It will get easier each time we see her,’ Ian said. It wasn’t just the driver who’d said this, but other families who’d adopted. They’d warned them not to expect too much during the first week of introductions and to just go with what the child felt comfortable with. This had also been covered during the three-day preparation course they’d had to attend in the UK as part of their adoption assessment.
Ian booked cabs for the following day, one for 9.30 a.m. to take them to the children’s store Dr Ciobanu had recommended in town, and the other to the orphanage for 2 p.m. Using public transport wasn’t an option, as buses were infrequent and unreliable. They were going to donate Lana’s belongings to the orphanage as Dr Ciobanu had suggested, so that night as Ian showered before bed Elaine sorted through their suitcases, carefully taking out what they’d packed for Lana that couldn’t be used for Anastasia: clothes, nappies, baby toys, packets of milk and food, dummy and so on. There was a lot; they’d brought extra in case they got delayed in the country, and had distributed it between both their cases. Now, as Elaine carefully put Lana’s belongings into carrier bags she kept finding herself overcome with emotion and had to stop to wipe away her tears. Although other children would benefit from their donation, these things had been bought specifically for Lana. Elaine remembered the joy she’d felt when choosing the little clothes and toys and carefully packing them in the cases. There were other first-year baby items at home and Elaine would sort out those when they returned.
By the time Ian came out of the shower the items they were donating to the orphanage were in carrier bags ready for the next day, apart from one teddy bear – a special bear they’d had personalized with Lana’s name.
‘Do you think we could visit Lana’s grave?’ Elaine asked Ian as she held the bear. ‘I’d like to put this on her grave if possible.’
‘That’s a lovely idea. We’ll ask Dr Ciobanu,’ Ian said, giving her a hug. Elaine wasn’t the only one with tears in her eyes.
The following morning they woke feeling refreshed and in a positive frame of mind. They knew there would be a lot of waiting around as the legal wheels turned in international adoption, but today they’d be busy and productive. A different cab driver took them to the children’s store in town and showed them where to catch a cab back, reassuring them that it would be easy to find a cab at the stand so he didn’t need to wait. The shop selling children’s goods was one of four large stores set side by side and back from the main road. They were clearly upmarket, with dazzling, brightly lit window displays, and their goods would only be affordable to a few. The other three sold furniture, carpets and electrical goods.
Inside the children’s store, Ian and Elaine wandered up and down the aisles of carefully laid out merchandise. It was so unlike any of the other local shops they’d seen during their stay so far, with smartly dressed assistants on hand to help. It sold everything imaginable for babies and young children: good-quality goods, mostly imported and therefore very expensive. Using the calculator on Ian’s phone, they converted the prices into pounds as they went. Most of the goods were at least double what they would have paid at home but they weren’t surprised that Dr Ciobanu had sent them to such an expensive store. It was widely thought in countries that practised international adoption that those adopting must be very wealthy, although in fact most had average incomes and had saved up to finance the trip, forgoing holidays and similar, remortgaging their home or taking out a bank loan. But of course compared to the locals they were wealthy.
They needed clothes for Anastasia and bought seven outfits to see her through the next three to four weeks, assuming they could be washed, and some toys, all of which Ian paid for on his credit card.
That afternoon they had the same cab driver as on their first and previous day’s visits to the orphanage, and he told them his name was Daniel – Danny for short. Ian was carrying the bags of Lana’s belongings and Elaine the items they were taking that day for Anastasia: three sets of clothes, underwear, pyjamas, sandals and some of the toys – an activity centre and two jigsaw puzzles. They’d decided not to take everything they’d bought for her in one go, as it could be overwhelming for Anastasia and also it would have to be stored somewhere in the orphanage.
Danny parked outside the orphanage, sounded the car’s horn to draw attention, and Ian and Elaine were let in by the care worker they’d seen the day before, who managed a small nod. They’d only seen two care workers so far in the orphanage for all thirty children.
‘Dr Ciobanu?’ Ian asked the care worker once they were inside and pointed to his office. ‘Is he here?’ She shook her head. ‘These are for the orphanage,’ Ian said, showing her the carrier bags of Lana’s belongings. ‘Clothes and toys for the children.’
She nodded. ‘I take them,’ she said, apparently understanding.
‘Thank you.’ He passed her the carrier bags.
‘These clothes
