The Night the Angels Came Read Free

that was ten years ago!’
    I smiled at him. ‘Yes, sometimes they do get it wrong, and make the wrong diagnosis,’ I agreed, ‘but not often.’
    ‘So the doctors might be wrong now,’ Paula put in, feeling she should contribute something but not fully understanding the discussion. Adrian nodded.
    ‘They might be wrong, but it’s not very likely. Michael’s father is very ill,’ I said. While I would have liked nothing more than to believe a misdiagnosis was an option, it would have been wrong of me to give them false hope.
    We all quietly returned to our food but without our previous enthusiasm, and at that moment I knew I should have just said no to Jill and waited for the next child who needed a foster home. ‘Anyway,’ I said after a while, ‘I think I will tell Jill that we feel very sorry for Michael but we can’t look after him.’
    ‘Why?’ Adrian asked.
    ‘Because it would be too sad for us. Too much to cope with after … everything else.’
    ‘You mean Dad going?’
    ‘Well, yes, and having to be part of Michael’s sadness. I don’t want to be sad: I like to be happy.’
    ‘I’m sure Michael does too,’ Adrian said bluntly. I met his gaze and in that look I saw not an eight-year-old boy but the wisdom of a man. ‘I think Michael should come here,’ he said. ‘We can help him. Paula and I know what it’s like to lose your dad. I know divorce is different – we can still see our dad sometimes – but when Dad packed all his things and left, and stopped living with us, in some ways it felt like he’d died. I think because Paula and I have been through that it will help us understand how Michael is feeling when he’s very sad.’
    It was at times like this I felt so proud of my children and also truly humbled. I felt my eyes fill.
    ‘And you think the same?’ I asked, turning to Paula.
    She nodded. ‘We can help Michael when he cries about his daddy.’
    ‘Did you cry a lot after your daddy left?’ I asked.
    Paula nodded. ‘At night in bed, so you couldn’t see.’
    It was a moment before I could find my voice to speak. ‘You should have told me,’ I said, putting my arm around Paula and giving her a hug. ‘Thank you both for explaining how you feel. Now I’ve got to do some careful thinking and decide if I have what it takes to help Michael.’
    ‘You have, Mum,’ Adrian said quietly. ‘Thanks, son, that’s kind of you, but I’m not so sure.’

Chapter Three
Are You Going to Die Soon?
     
     
    T he following morning, after I’d taken Adrian to school and Paula to the nursery where she went for three hours each morning, I phoned Jill. She was expecting my call, and said a quiet, ‘Hello, Cathy.’
    ‘Has a relative been found for Michael yet?’ I asked hopefully, although I knew it was highly unlikely from what Jill had told me.
    ‘No,’ Jill said.
    I hesitated, my brain working overtime to find the right words for what I had to say although, goodness knows, I’d spent long enough practising it – during the night and as soon as I’d woken.
    ‘Jill, I’ve obviously given a lot of thought to Patrick and Michael and I also asked Adrian and Paula what they thought.’ I paused again as Jill waited patiently on the other end of the phone. ‘The children think we have what it takes to look after Michael but I have huge doubts, so I’ve got a suggestion.’
    ‘Yes?’ Jill said.
    ‘You know Patrick has asked to meet the carer so that he can discuss Michael’s needs, routine, etc.?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Presumably that meeting will also give him a chance to see if he feels the carer is right for his son?’
    ‘I suppose so, although to be honest Patrick can’t afford to be too choosy. We don’t have many foster carers free, and he hasn’t that much time, which he appreciates.’
    ‘Well, what I’m suggesting is that I meet Patrick and then we decide if Michael coming to me is right for both of us after that meeting. What do you think?’
    ‘I think you’re