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Five Winters(41)

Author:Kitty Johnson

“And are you still close to them? Will they form part of your support group?”

I swallowed. “I’m still very close to Sylvia, but sadly Richard . . . passed away this time last year.”

Even after twelve months I was incapable of speaking those words without tears pricking my eyes, and when I saw Clare notice them, I pushed my chair back and got to my feet.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t offer you a cup of tea or coffee.”

“Not for me, thank you,” Clare responded. “We have a great deal to get through today.”

Which didn’t give me permission to make a hot drink for myself.

“Well, I’ll just get myself a glass of water, if that’s all right. Can I get one for you?”

“No, thank you.”

If I’d sought to distract Clare from my grief about Richard, then my attempt was a dismal failure. When I sat back down again, she was right there, with her direct gaze and her poised pen.

“Your reaction shows me you felt Richard’s death very keenly. Would it be correct to say you’re still grieving?”

Just for a moment, I paused, trying to second-guess what the best answer would be. Did grieving show empathy or weakness? But then I realised it didn’t really matter. I was incapable of pretending not to still be grieving for Richard. And besides, I’d already given myself away.

“Yes, I suppose I am. He meant a great deal to me.”

“I imagine his death also served as a reminder to you of all your other losses. To lose three significant family members by the age of thirteen is quite something, is it not?”

I nodded, taking a sip of my water.

“I’m not talking about these things to make you miserable, you understand,” said Clare, and inside my head I could hear Rosie’s voice saying, Oh yeah?

“Only to acknowledge the emotions you’re very likely experiencing at the moment. My first duty must always be towards the children we seek to help. Adoption is far from being an easy ride. For anyone. The children we’re looking to place need adopters with resilience and strong emotional resources.”

“Yes,” I said, pulling myself together. “I appreciate that. And actually, apart from when I attended the funeral, I didn’t take any time off work because of Richard’s death. I am a strong, resilient person. In fact, my job regularly requires me to deal with death. Obviously, as a veterinary nurse, it’s the death of pets I encounter on a weekly basis, not people. But they’re usually very much-loved pets, and you have to be compassionate towards their owners while at the same time building up your personal resilience in order to deal with it.”

Even though I’d sounded as if I were at a job interview, it felt as if I’d scored a point when Clare nodded and made a note on her pad. But if I’d thought the difficult questions were over, I was wrong.

“I couldn’t help noticing several guidebooks on your bookshelves. Have you done a lot of travelling?”

This time, I noticed the potential trap. Not that there was a lot I could do about it, barring telling her a pack of lies about collecting guidebooks as part of a fantasy tourism habit.

“Yes, quite a lot. Especially in my student days.”

“When was the last time you went abroad?”

“A year and a half ago. For a family holiday to Greece.”

Clare consulted her notes. “Was that while you were in a relationship with Mr. Faulkner?”

I flushed. I wasn’t sure why. I saw Clare notice. “Yes, that’s right.”

“We’ll need to discuss that relationship in some detail, since Mr. Faulkner has children. I thought we could do that in our next session. We have time to meet once more before Christmas.”

The need to talk about Jaimie didn’t come as a surprise to me. I’d guessed I’d have to at some point. But that didn’t mean I was looking forward to it.

“How do you feel about not being able to travel or go on holiday easily if you adopt a child?” Clare asked now, slightly leaning forward in her seat towards me.

I answered honestly. “I feel fine about it, actually. I’m glad I travelled when I did, but now I’m content to stay put. And the UK has so much to offer, doesn’t it?”

Clare looked doubtful. “Many of our children have never been on holiday at all—not even in the UK. They’ve lived very uncertain lives. They may have lived with several different foster carers before they come to you, for instance. It’s important they have stability so they can start to trust and start to believe their new situation is permanent. Holidays of any description probably wouldn’t be a good idea for several years.”

I nodded. I could understand that. “That’s fine. There are parks nearby. And the garden, of course.”

“Yes, about the garden.” Clare moved a little so she could see out the window. “From what I can see, it looks very pretty. But perhaps not very child friendly? Would you be prepared to make over some of your flower borders to grass, do you think?”

I blinked, hoping she wouldn’t go on to suggest I get the plane tree chopped down. “Yes, of course,” I said. Because although it would pain me to pull up my flower borders, I sincerely believed having a child enjoy the garden was likely to give me a great deal more pleasure.

Clare scrutinised my expression, as if to gauge my sincerity, then gave a satisfied nod. “We have to be quite certain of an adopter’s commitment,” she said. “I’m sure you understand that. Were you to have pets, I’d be asking you whether you’d be prepared to rehome the animal should your child be afraid of it, or if, indeed, your child demonstrated cruelty towards it.”

A child who was cruel to animals? Was that really likely?

Clare seemed to read my thoughts. “It can sometimes happen, unfortunately. A child may come from a home where the parents habitually mistreated animals. Or sometimes, a child may behave towards an animal in the way an adult has behaved towards him or her.”

God, it was so very sad.

“But you don’t have any pets, so we don’t need to worry about that. Unless you ever bring any animals back here as part of your work?”

“I do occasionally, but only on a voluntary basis. I’m not required to.”

Clare nodded and made a note. “Good.” She closed her notebook. “I think that’s sufficient for today. I’ll leave you some worksheets to complete before we meet again. And perhaps you could do some research about any local schools or groups that might accept you as a volunteer? You really need to get as much experience with children as you can to support your application. I realise this isn’t the best time to approach anyone, with Christmas fast approaching, but if you make enquiries now, you’d be able to start in the New Year.”

“Of course,” I said, and Clare took her leave, having arranged another appointment for the following week.

After she’d gone, I felt a bit bleak. Instinctively, I reached for my phone to call Rosie. But once again, I changed my mind. Rosie already thought I was crazy, trying to adopt. If I told her about grassing over my garden and potentially having to deal with cruelty towards animals, she’d only advise me to withdraw my application.

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