A Long Way from Home. Cathy GlassЧитать онлайн книгу.
visit to the country, they’d read up about it and researched online and wanted pictures of the area to show Anastasia when she was older. The social worker who’d assessed them for their suitability to adopt and compiled their Home Study report had emphasized how important it was for adopted children to know their roots. She said they had to be completely honest with the child from the start and recommended they compile a Life Story Book and Memory Box, which they’d already begun, having taken photographs of the departure board at the airport and saved their boarding cards. They’d take photographs of Anastasia tomorrow and, if they were allowed, of the orphanage too. They’d keep the clothes she wore here and anything else significant or of sentimental value that would help give her a better understanding of her past. Elaine had also begun a diary of their journey through the adoption process, confiding their hopes and feelings from when they’d made that first phone call enquiring about adoption. Anastasia would know as much about her past as possible, just like the social worker had said, although possibly not about Lana. She must never feel second best.
That evening, after dinner, they sat in their hotel room with a phrase book and tried to learn some of the language, but it was a very difficult language to learn and they laughed at their feeble attempts to pronounce the words. Thankfully Dr Ciobanu spoke very good English, and it was important that Anastasia learned English as soon as possible, so learning the local language for them was fun rather than necessary.
They were in bed early and slept well. Nevertheless, they were downstairs at 7 a.m. having breakfast, excited at the prospect of spending time with Anastasia, and not wanting to miss Dr Ciobanu’s phone call. As soon as they’d finished eating they returned to their room. Although Dr Ciobanu had both their mobile numbers, the network service in this country was notoriously haphazard and expensive, and they knew that most professions preferred to use landlines where possible.
The morning slowly ticked by. The maid knocked on their door to make up their room but they thanked her and told her not to bother today. The phone stayed perversely silent and by noon, when Dr Ciobanu still hadn’t called, doubt and anxiety set in.
‘He definitely said he’d phone in the morning,’ Elaine said, ‘and the morning has gone now.’
‘Perhaps he got held up or called away,’ Ian offered.
‘Or perhaps Anastasia’s mother has refused to give consent and is taking Anastasia with her,’ Elaine said, voicing her worst fears. ‘If so, I can’t go through this again, Ian. I can’t. We forget about it and go home.’
‘We don’t know that,’ Ian said, trying to be rational. ‘Let’s assume for now that no news is good news.’
Elaine wasn’t reassured. ‘Dr Ciobanu said we could visit this afternoon but before long it’s going to be too late. We can’t just sit here waiting indefinitely.’
‘But we know from other couples that there is a lot of waiting and hanging around,’ Ian reminded her.
‘But that was waiting for the court date,’ she said, irritable from worry.
‘All right, calm down. We’ll give him another hour and then I’ll phone at one o’clock.’
The hour passed, the phone didn’t ring and their unease increased.
‘Shall I phone or will you?’ Elaine snapped at 1.05.
‘I will,’ Ian said, but went to use the bathroom first.
Elaine would have liked to give Dr Ciobanu a piece of her mind for causing them all this extra stress. International adoption was emotional and fraught even when it ran smoothly. But neither she nor Ian would criticize the doctor to his face, as they were relying on him to give them what they wanted more than anything in the world – a child of their own. He could keep them waiting for as long as he wanted and they had to put up with it.
Returning from the bathroom, Ian sat beside Elaine on the edge of the bed and pressed the speaker button on the phone so they could both hear the conversation. He keyed in the number to the orphanage and to their surprise it was answered straight away by Dr Ciobanu.
‘It’s Ian Hudson,’ he said, a slight tremor in his voice.
‘Hello. How are you?’ the doctor asked jovially, apparently oblivious to the worry he’d caused them. Elaine wrung her hands in her lap.
‘We’re OK,’ Ian said. ‘But we were expecting you to phone this morning about our visit this afternoon.’
‘Yes, come here tomorrow with your paperwork.’
‘Not today?’ Ian asked.
‘No. I have a visitor from the government coming this afternoon. Tomorrow is good.’ Which again they had to accept.
‘All right. So everything went well with the mother?’
‘Yes.’
‘She has consented to the adoption?’
‘Yes, of course. You and your wife will have to learn to trust me. I know what I am doing.’
‘Yes, I’m sure you do. I’m sorry,’ Ian said quickly. ‘We’re just very anxious, having lost Lana. We couldn’t bear another loss.’
‘And you won’t have to. Come here tomorrow at two and you can spend time with your daughter.’
‘Thank you so much.’
‘You’re welcome.’
Chapter Four
With their confidence in Dr Ciobanu restored, and looking forward to seeing Anastasia again, Elaine and Ian passed the following morning with a visit to the local supermarket. It wasn’t a large shop but it was crammed full of every type of good imaginable, including groceries, pharmaceuticals, underwear and socks, toys, beer, hardware and numerous miscellaneous items. There was also a box of Christmas decorations, even though it was only August. They bought bottled water, and some bread and ham for their lunch, as it was too expensive to keep eating in the hotel and there weren’t any cheap restaurants or cafés close by. They also found a colouring book, crayons and a doll for Anastasia. Lana would have been too young for these – they had packed nappies, baby food and first-year toys for her, which were still in the suitcase. They’d also brought with them clothes to fit Lana that would be far too small for Anastasia. They’d have to buy more here before the adoption, as they knew the children often arrived at court only with what they stood up in.
They returned to their hotel room to eat their picnic-style lunch, and then with Elaine carrying the bag of toys for Anastasia and Ian his briefcase containing the paperwork for Dr Ciobanu, they waited in the lobby for the cab. They’d booked it for fifteen minutes earlier than it needed to be, to allow time for it being late, so in fact it arrived to collect them on time. ‘I’ve cracked it!’ Ian joked to Elaine, and she laughed conspiratorially. How much happier they were now.
It was the same driver they’d had on their first trip to the orphanage and he greeted them like long lost friends, shaking their hands warmly and asking how they were. ‘Perhaps we’re tipping him too much,’ Ian whispered to Elaine as they climbed into the cab.
But it was rather nice – reassuring – to see a familiar friendly face in a country where they knew no one and didn’t speak the language. He was eager to know what had happened since he’d last seen them, when they’d arrived at the orphanage to be told Lana was dead. Ian briefly explained about meeting the doctor and Anastasia the day before and that the adoption was going ahead. The driver was very pleased for them and didn’t seem to mind that they weren’t using the lady his cousin knew. ‘So I’ll be seeing lots of you,’ he said, for he knew the procedure. Couples usually visited the child most days while they waited for the adoption to go through.
He