Taken: Part 3 of 3
Experienced foster carer, Rosie Lewis, takes on the heart-breaking case of Megan, a baby born with a drug addiction and a cleft palate.Addicted to drugs from birth because of her mother’s substance abuse during pregnancy, new-born Megan is taken into Rosie’s loving care. Rosie is supposed to help Megan find her new permanent home, but it turns out that Megan has already found her ‘forever mummy’ in Rosie.Rosie grows incredibly attached to Megan and applies to adopt her, but the system refuses her in favour of a young couple and Rosie is devastated. Against all her instincts, Rosie does her job and prepares Megan for her new ‘forever family’, but everything about Megan leaving feels wrong.When Rosie learns a few months later that Megan’s adoption has broken down, she is saddened but also filled with hope – will this little girl be allowed to return to her true ‘forever home’?
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Certain details in this story, including names, places and dates, have been changed to protect the family’s privacy.
HarperElement
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First published by HarperElement 2017
FIRST EDITION
© Rosie Lewis 2017
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2017
Cover photograph © Victoria Haack/Trevillion Images (posed by model)
A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
Rosie Lewis asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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Source ISBN: 9780008113018
Ebook Edition © January 2017 ISBN: 9780008171322
Version: 2016-12-19
Contents
I remember everything about the day it happened. The way the wispy white clouds moved across the sky above the glass roof of our conservatory, the accompanying breeze caressing the dark-green leaves of the apple tree in our garden so that the fruit-laden branches swayed low, kissing the silver-white bark of the trunk. I remember hearing Emily, Jamie and Megan’s voices blending together as they moved around not far from where I sat at the computer desk, the occasional shriek when one of them made Megan laugh.
The date was 29 August 2013 and it was just five days after the letter had arrived from the adoption team confirming that we were to be assessed as adopters.
Afterwards I cursed myself for checking my emails, wishing I had delayed the moment for just a little while longer, savouring the glorious, happy ordinariness of the day. Earlier we had driven across town to visit my brother Chris, stopping off at a farm on the way home to pick some strawberries. Megan had gorged herself as she pottered, basket over her arm, and the sweet smell of the fruit lingered on her skin long after I had washed her hands.
Leaving her to wash the fruit in a bowl on her small table, I had switched the computer on with the intention of printing out some pictures from the CBeebies website for her to colour. As often happens, I got sidetracked, and ended up logging onto my emails instead. Among the adverts and reminders, one of them stood out.
It was from the adoption team.
Dear Rosie
On further examination of Megan’s file, it has come to our attention that her birth mother has had contact in your home, a fact the adoption team has only recently become aware of. Unfortunately, after careful consideration and a full risk assessment, we feel that Megan’s interests would be best served by placing her with an existing adoptive family in a secure location, somewhere she cannot possibly be traced.
I understand this may come as disappointing news to you and your family, but, as I’m sure you will appreciate, Megan’s best interests and personal safety are paramount. We feel you have many attributes that would make you an excellent adoptive parent and welcome the opportunity to assess you on behalf of another child.
Please feel free to contact me if you feel there is anything you would like me to clarify.
Best
Veronica
It was only when I touched my hands to my face that I realised I was crying. At the sound of footsteps, I quickly clicked the mouse to minimise the screen and pushed the keyboard away from me. ‘What’s wrong?’ Emily asked, coming up behind the swivel chair.
‘Nothing,’ I said, with a quick sniff. I couldn’t face telling her right at that moment. I didn’t know how to break it to her, for a start, and part of me wanted to deal with my own feelings before I shared the news with anyone else. There was no way I could put a positive spin on Megan leaving, feeling the way I did.
‘M-u-m,’ Emily said chidingly. ‘I’m not a little girl any more. And I’m not as dumb as you think.’
I gave my eyes a brisk rub. ‘Of course you’re not dumb,’ I said, angling myself away and pretending to tidy up the pens on the desktop while I tried to organise my face into a smile. ‘I know you’re not dumb.’ I took a breath and grabbed the mouse, pulling the email back onto the screen. I turned to look at her. ‘It’s not very good news I’m afraid, sweetheart.’
