Читать книгу: «A Long Way from Home: Part 2 of 3»

Chapter Ten

All New

No words can describe how Elaine felt at that moment as she stood in the corridor outside the courtroom holding her daughter’s hand. Disbelief, euphoria, relief and panic combined as she stood immobile, staring after Ian. Then realization and responsibility kicked in. She was a parent and needed to behave like one. She looked at Anastasia, who returned her gaze, wide-eyed and confused. Did she understand what had just happened in the court room? Did she have any idea? She wasn’t crying or upset, so perhaps like her mother this was simply the end of a long and inevitable journey. ‘Are you all right, love?’ Elaine asked quietly, and Anastasia stared back.

Ian reappeared, out of breath and clutching his phone. ‘I got two photos of her,’ he said.

‘How was she?’ Elaine asked.

‘Upset, as you’d expect, but she wiped away her tears and put on a brave face for the photograph. I think she was pleased I’d asked her and that we are going to keep her memory alive for Anastasia.’

Ian showed her the two photographs he’d taken in the square outside the court house and Elaine’s eyes immediately filled. The woman was looking directly into the lens and trying to smile so that her daughter would have a positive image to remember her by. It felt uncomfortable standing outside the court room, looking at photographs as if they were on holiday. But these two pictures would probably be the most important either of them ever took. Elaine was pleased they were nice photos. A copy would go in Anastasia’s Life Story Book and another they’d frame and put on a shelf in her bedroom so she would grow up aware of her origins, just as the social worker had said.

Seeing Ian’s mobile phone, Anastasia agitated to look and he showed her the photographs and then put it away. Phones and cameras weren’t allowed in the court house.

‘Well,’ he said to Elaine with a big sigh, ‘we’ve finally done it! Congratulations.’ He kissed her cheek, then stooped to kiss Anastasia’s. Her skin felt cold. ‘I don’t think she’s warm enough,’ he said to Elaine. ‘Perhaps put on her hat, scarf and boots.’

‘Oh dear, yes, of course,’ Elaine said, immediately concerned for her daughter’s welfare.

They tucked themselves in a corner of the corridor out of the way, and Elaine unzipped the holdall and took out the fleece-lined boots, then the matching scarf, mittens and hat. Anastasia’s face lit up, clearly having never owned anything like this before.

‘I hope the boots fit,’ Elaine said, squatting beside her to put them on. She carefully slipped off the plimsolls she was wearing and, with Anastasia steadying herself against Ian’s leg, she eased her feet into the boots. They were slightly too big but better that than too small. Anastasia looked down at them, delighted. Elaine tucked her jogging pants into the boots and then eased her little hands into the mittens. Anastasia was still holding the crucifix and later Elaine would put it somewhere safe. She tied the woollen scarf loosely around her neck and put on her hat. It felt strange dressing her, like dressing a doll, but she knew she’d soon get used to it.

‘That looks snug and warm,’ Ian said.

Elaine put the plimsolls into the holdall. They’d keep those and the clothes Anastasia had worn for the court hearing to show her when she was older. The crucifix she’d place in the Memory Box together with anything else significant that would help give Anastasia a better understanding of her past.

The court room door opened and Dr Ciobanu came out clutching a wodge of papers, his folder and their passports. ‘You can have these back,’ he said, handing the passports to Ian. ‘I have the adoption certificate but I will need it to apply for Anastasia’s new birth certificate, passport and visa. You can go to your hotel now and I’ll be in touch just as soon as I’ve had these processed.’ He clearly had a lot to do and wanted to get away.

‘Thank you,’ Ian said, shaking his hand.

‘Thank you,’ Elaine added.

‘You have a cab waiting?’

‘Yes.’

‘OK. I’ll be in touch.’

‘Dr Ciobanu,’ Elaine said quickly before he left, ‘does Anastasia know what happened in court? That she has now been adopted?’

‘Yes, I would think so,’ he said. Then almost as an afterthought he said something to her in her own language.

‘Mummy and Daddy,’ she said, puzzled, then her brow knitted and her face clouded.

‘She’ll be fine,’ he said, patting her woolly hat. ‘Take her back to the hotel and give her a bath and something to eat.’ He said a quick goodbye and hurried off. Months later, looking back, Ian and Elaine were sure that was the moment Anastasia had been told what had happened in court.

‘Mummy and Daddy,’ she repeated quietly.

‘Yes, come on, love, let’s go,’ Elaine said.

They took a mittened hand each and Elaine felt Anastasia’s fingers tighten around the crucifix, as they returned down the corridor. Outside the cab was waiting where they’d left it, the driver at the wheel. It seemed a lifetime ago that they’d arrived at the court house, although it was little more than an hour. Ian opened the rear door and helped Elaine and Anastasia in, then tucked the holdall in the footwell at Anastasia’s feet and got into the passenger seat at the front.

The journey back to the hotel seemed quicker than going, for now they had Anastasia to tend to. To begin with she sat quietly beside Elaine under the adult seatbelt, looking at everything around her: the driver, the back of Ian, the seats, the hand brake, the windows, the door furniture and the view through her side window. Perhaps it was the first time she’d ever been in a car, they had no way of knowing, but clearly she was fascinated by what she saw. Then she grew restless. The car was much warmer than the court house and Anastasia pulled off her hat and threw it into the footwell at Elaine’s feet. Elaine picked it up.

‘Are you too hot, love?’ she asked, taking off her scarf; she left on her mittens. A moment later Anastasia pulled off her mittens and threw them at Elaine’s feet. She picked them up, took out the crucifix and tucked it into her pocket for safekeeping. Anastasia wriggled, tried to remove her seatbelt, which Elaine told her had to stay on, then she began straining forward, tugging on her belt to get at the holdall at her feet.

‘Perhaps she wants another drink?’ Ian suggested, turning round in his seat to look.

Elaine unfastened her own seatbelt so she could reach the holdall and took out the first carton of drink she came across – the apple juice. But it was obvious from Anastasia’s scowl this wasn’t the drink she wanted. Elaine rummaged some more and took out the other packets. Anastasia grabbed the strawberry milkshake.

‘Do you want some help?’ Elaine asked, refastening her belt, as Anastasia struggled to remove the straw from the side of the carton. But she wanted to do it herself and eventually managed to tear off the straw as she’d seen her mother do. She inserted it into the packet with too much force and strawberry milkshake shot everywhere – down the front of her coat, the car seat and her side window. Her expression immediately fell serious as if she expected to be told off.

‘Don’t worry,’ Elaine said, taking tissues from her pocket. ‘It was an accident.’ She wiped the milk from her coat, the car seat and the window. The driver glanced in his mirror but didn’t comment.

It was a relief when they pulled up outside their hotel. Ian paid and tipped the driver and then opened the back door and helped Anastasia out. As the three of them entered the hotel the staff at the reception desk stopped what they were doing to look. They knew they’d been to court that morning and were now interested to see the child they’d adopted. Ian gave them the thumbs up and Elaine smiled but they didn’t go over. They wanted to go to their hotel room to get organized, give Anastasia a bath as Dr Ciobanu had suggested, dress her in fresh clothes and then use room service for something to eat. They knew they needed to take it slowly and give Anastasia time to adjust. To rush out to a restaurant or start meeting lots of new people straight away would have been too much for her to cope with. They’d learned from other couples that virtually every experience was likely to be new for the child, so they should take it very easy and not overload her – too many new experiences too soon would be confusing and distressing for her.

‘This is a lift,’ Elaine said to Anastasia as they got in. It was empty. ‘Lift,’ Elaine repeated as she did with all new words, hoping Anastasia would learn them.

Anastasia let out a startled cry as the lift began moving, then caught sight of her image in the mirror and stuck out her tongue. Ian and Elaine laughed. Anastasia gave another startled cry as the lift shuddered to a halt. ‘It’s OK,’ Elaine reassured her. ‘It’s just the lift stopping.’ The lift doors opened. ‘We’re going to our hotel room,’ she told her.

Anastasia looked in awe at the patterned carpet in the corridor and bent down to touch it as though she’d never seen carpet before. Perhaps she hadn’t. There was certainly none in the orphanage; all the floors were tiled.

Their room was meticulously tidy as always after the maid had been in. ‘Let’s take off your coat,’ Elaine said, unzipping it. Anastasia stared around, amazed. She slipped it off but before Elaine had a chance to remove her boots, Anastasia had rushed over to the double bed, running her hands over the silky patterned bedspread. ‘She’s probably never seen anything like this before either.’

‘They haven’t put up the extra bed,’ Ian said, slightly irritated. ‘I told reception this morning we’d need it. I’ll phone housekeeping now.’

As he did, Elaine took off Anastasia’s boots and then watched her as she went around the room exploring, touching everything she could reach – the dark wood furniture, the velvet armchair, the glass-topped coffee table, their suitcases. Elaine told her the words for the objects, and when she went into the en suite Elaine followed. Anastasia looked incredulously at the gleaming white porcelain. They had showers and toilets at the orphanage but nothing like this, and it was likely that wherever she’d stayed with her mother was very basic too. Anastasia went over to the toilet, lifted the lid and, pulling down her pants, climbed on. ‘Good girl,’ Elaine said, pushing the door to. Ian was still on the phone trying to organize the bed.

While Anastasia wasn’t at all self-conscious in going to the toilet and then wiping herself, Elaine felt a little awkward, not sure what her role was. Had Anastasia been a baby she would have changed her nappy, but she had obviously passed that stage and was now very self-sufficient. She flushed the toilet but was going to leave the bathroom without washing her hands.

‘Come here, love,’ Elaine said, steering her to the washbasin. ‘You need to wash your hands.’ Elaine ran the water to the right temperature and, placing the small tablet of hotel soap in Anastasia’s hands, helped her wash them. They were grubby from the day’s grime. ‘We could give you a bath now,’ Elaine suggested as the child dried her hands. It seemed as good a time as any. ‘Then you can put on your new clothes.’ She smiled.