A Long Way from Home: Part 2 of 3

Chapter Ten

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.