So, picture this: there are millions of kids in foster families across the UK, and were one of those families. Why not look for another set of parents, you ask? Because for us, its simple here no one will hurt him, and over there you never know what could happen, even if you dont hear about it.
Arthur never imagined his wife could be so sensitive. The loss of his friends hit him harder than anything else. Nobody wanted to take the little boy away, and Arthur kept begging Victoria to keep him
—
Emily was a fairly lateborn child. Her parents were already pushing thirtyfive when she arrived, and her grandparents were well past sixty. She was late, but longawaited, beloved, and, lets be honest, a bit spoiled. Whatever she wanted, she got.
Her mornings always started the same way mum would rouse her, call her down for breakfast, and have her outfit ready. Today was no different.
Morning, sleepyhead! Mum chirped. How did you sleep? Dream anything?
Mums voice was perky, even at seven in the morning.
Morning, mum! I think I had a dream cant remember it, Emily replied.
Give it time, youll recall it and tell us. Now hurry up, weve got a lot to do today!
On the table were fluffy pancakes the kind Grandma used to bake before she left for her weekly GP appointment and a bowl of fresh fruit, neatly sliced by Arthur before heading off to work. Emily perched on her high chair, piling pancakes onto her plate while spilling the latest discoveries from school.
Mum, what should I wear to the morning concert? she asked, dunking a pancake into jam.
In a yellow dress, Mum said.
Again yellow
Want to try red? Mum suggested.
Yes, red, please!
The concert was still a month away, but Emily was already buzzing with anticipation.
After breakfast came the walk. Emily bounced out the door because today was a special one her first ride on the scooter Grandpa had gifted her for her birthday. The snow had finally melted and the air was mild enough for a proper outing, which was a relief; a week of cold would have been unbearable for her.
In her trainers, she bolted into the garden, Mum halfdragging behind. The moment the other kids saw her new scooter, they swarmed over, eager to have a look and a go. Emily, grinning, showed off every trick she could think of.
Look at this! she exclaimed, giving the scooter a tentative push and wobbling down the pavement. Want a turn?
She lost her balance and toppled over shed only done a handful of short rides with her preschool friend before. No one laughed.
Your turn? Emily brushed herself off, as if nothing had happened, and offered the scooter to the others.
One by one they grabbed the handle and tried to copy the moves theyd just seen. All day long Emily was the little star, and by the end most of the kids were begging their parents for a scooter just like hers.
When Dad got home that evening, Emily ran to meet him that was her routine and he had a surprise waiting.
Surprise! he announced, holding out a small box that smelled of something sweet.
Whats inside? Whats inside? she babbled, eyes wide.
Arthur handed her the box. Inside were the most decadent chocolate eclairs you could imagine.
Dad, youre the best! Emily squealed.
After the treats, it was time for her favourite activity building with her plastic bricks. She spread out a rainbow of pieces on the floor of her room and set about constructing a princesss castle, checking the picture on the box now and then.
Up until she turned seven, Emily never knew a worry or a problem. Everyone doted on her, showered her with gifts, took her wherever she wanted, and gave her endless attention.
But one afternoon, when she was waiting for Mum to pick her up from the nursery at six, something shifted. Victoria showed up a halfhour early a small but noticeable change and the nursery assistant, a friend of Mums, tried to strike up a chat.
I saw that film you mentioned last week. Its not really my cup of tea, but theres something about the lead actor she began.
Victoria cut her off briskly, Sorry, were in a rush. Well talk later.
Emily, oblivious, forgot her favourite doll on the bench because she was busy watching Mums hurried steps and blinking at the door. Shed never seen Mum look flustered before; Emily couldnt imagine Mum getting angry or upset. Her childhood felt like endless sunshine.
Back home, Victoria, hair pulled into a messy ponytail, set Emily down for dinner not in the kitchen but on the sofa, and handed her a bowl of curd with sliced fruit.
Sit here, love, have a bite, and lets put on a cartoon, she said.
Emily just nodded cartoons were exactly what she wanted, not whatever Mum might be fussing about. Victoria, trying to be patient, headed to the kitchen where Arthur was already waiting.
She started where theyd left off before shed gone to the nursery:
Arthur, we just cant seem to adopt a child, she said, her tone a mix of frustration and resignation, It never works out. Its always so sudden If we had more time, maybe wed think it through properly
Arthur, ever the optimist, replied, Whats there to think about? This is the son of our best mates. He has no close relatives, no grandparents like Emilys. Theres an uncle a few degrees removed, but hed never take a stranger. If we dont act, Charlie could end up in a care home. What if it were Emily?
Victoria shivered at the thought of losing the little family shed built, but kept going, Hell find a good foster home
And how do you know that? Arthur asked. How do you know itll be good?
Millions of kids are placed in foster families, and well be his. So why look for anyone else?
Because were us. Here nobody would hurt him, and somewhere else you never know, Arthur snapped, his voice rising. Where theres one, theres another.
Victoria hadnt expected Arthur to be this emotional. The death of his friends hit him harder than anything. No one wanted to take the boy, and Arthur was practically pleading.
Im not ready for this. I love Emily, dont get me wrong, but a second child its more attention, and hes a toddler that means me back on maternity leave, she admitted.
Isnt it worth it for Lily and Victor? Arthur pressed. Well manage, Vic. Emilys old enough to help. We have the money. Weve handled kids before. Well think about a second child eventually
When? At fortyfive? Victoria laughed, already convinced theyd only ever have one child.
Even at fifty, why not?
After a long backandforth, Victoria finally gave in. Six months later, after the usual paperwork, they drove home not alone. In the backseat was a little boy theyd named Charlie.
Emily, now in primary school, was told a brother was on the way. Her parents tried their best to reassure her that theyd still love her just the same.
But the moment Emily saw Dad cooing over the brandnew baby, a strange feeling washed over her. She realised Dad now had two kids, and that was a shift she hadnt felt before.
That evening she refused to join the celebration.
Vic, bring more sliced fruit! shouted Arthur from the living room, where relatives were bustling about the table.
On my way! Victoria called back.
Vic, grab an extra spoon! shouted her mother, Agatha, from the kitchen.
Emily sat in her room, hopping at every shout as if they were calling her name. Eventually, someone finally noticed.
Wheres our little party queen? Grandpa asked, Emily, where are you?
Emily? Shes probably in her room with her tablet. Once you buy her one, you cant get her attention, Victoria replied, a hint of exasperation in her voice.
But Emily had already declared a boycott.
Grandparents tried to coax her out, but she stayed put. Her parents seemed to have forgotten about her entirely, their focus glued to the new baby.
It was as if the chapter where Emily was the centre of the household had closed.
Now everything was shared attention, games, presents. Dad, who used to always find time for her, now spent most of his evenings with Charlie, putting him to sleep, playing with him, or teaching him new words. Mum, who used to be Emilys best mate, was constantly occupied with the little one.
One day Dad came home with a bright plastic tractor for Charlie. Emily, spotting it, ran over and shouted, What about me? What did you get for me?
Arthur winced, forcing a nervous smile. Oh, love, Im sorry, I completely forgot. Well get you something tomorrow, promise.
From that point Emily stopped meeting Dad at the door after work. She felt hed simply forgotten her.
Mum, juggling Charlies bedtime routine, would say, Honey, could you help me with maths? I dont get it and then rush off to calm a crying baby.
Emily would fall asleep before Mum even managed to get Charlie to brush his teeth, start the washing machine, and prep tomorrows meals.
When Emily tried to talk about school, Mum, apologising, would ask her to wait a moment because she needed to soothe Charlies feverish cries. Hes running a temperature, Mum would say, the doctors coming, we cantstop now.
Over time Emilys resentment toward Charlie grew to an almost hatred. The boy who should have been a little brother became, in her eyes, a rival for parental love.
Its nice we dont have to share a room, Emily told a friend as she got older.
Yeah, lucky you, replied Anna.
Whats good about it? Emily asked.
Not sharing a room! Youve got a doublebedroom, Im stuck in a tiny space with two younger sisters. Whos worse?
No point in comparing, really, Anna shrugged.
Charlie turned seven, and Emily was on the brink of thirteen. Her animosity only deepened. Before, Charlie might have stolen a bit of attention, but the parents still gave hers. Now he was in Year1, and she couldnt just turn away.
Emily, what are you doing? Charlie peeked into her room.
Sleeping! she snapped.
Wanna play?
No.
One afternoon Charlie burst into her room with a toy water pistol, eager to surprise her. He tried to aim at the curtain above her head, missed, and sprayed her notebook instead.
Dont come into my room! Emily shouted, pushing him away.
It was an accident! he protested.
Your fault! she retorted.
Ill tell Mum, he threatened.
You tell her, Emily sneered, lets see what happens. Youre supposed to be quiet as a mouse, youve been adopted out of pity! She slammed the door, effectively confirming to Charlie that he was a foster child a truth theyd later tell him when he was ready.
That night, when the parents got home, Dad laid down the law.
No phones or tablets for a month. No, six months! And you wont see any gifts from us again. How could you even think of saying something like that?
Charlie burst into tears on the sofa, Mum at his side.
What? You mean the truth? You brought a baby into our lives and now youve forgotten about your own daughter! Arthur shouted, his voice shaking.
For the first time ever, Arthur raised his hand toward Emily. In the morning he tried to apologise, but Emily, fed up, grabbed her coat and shoes and fled to school.
Victoria clanged a fork against a plate and laughed, Bravo, she said to her husband, Topnotch performance. Now youve basically lost a daughter.
Dont be ridiculous. Well talk later, he muttered.
It wont be forgiven, Victoria said, wrapping her arms around herself, Not because you hit her, but because of how we treat her I try to talk to her, but its never enough. And you never loved Charlie. By trying to save him, we lost Emily.
Do you want to change your mind?
I dont know! she snapped, Im attached to Charlie, hes a wonderful boy, but I still feel hes not my child.
Good mother! Arthur retorted, Five years raising a son and you never loved him?
I warned you this would be too much, Victoria replied, Ive twisted myself for years to give Charlie a normal family and it never worked. Happy eating.
Their relationship had long been strained. Victoria sensed something off.
Charlie, now looking more and more like Arthur same cheekbones, same laugh raised more questions. How could that be? He was adopted, after all.
Mum, who Victoria often consulted, smiled, Sweetheart, it happens. Adopted kids can end up looking a lot like their adoptive parents. Its quite common.
I know, but Charlie looks exactly like him, Victoria insisted.
Exactly, nothing surprising there.
He even walks the same way! The same little gestures!
Hes just copying his dad, nothing unusual.
But Victoria couldnt shake the doubt. She began to suspect that Arthur might have had a past connection with Charlies mother, a friend whod died years ago. Arthur had mourned her deeply.
One day Victoria, gathering courage, ordered a DNA test.
The results came back quickly and confirmed her worst fear: Charlie was Arthurs biological son.
She drove Emily to school and then headed to her mothers house, unwilling to face Arthur. Shed discovered that Arthur and Vera, behind their backs, had been seeing each other. First, Arthur raised someone elses child, now Victoria was doing the same.
Her elderly mother, frail with age, tried to console her, Victoria, dont tear everything apart now. Think of the children. You have two. Charlie is now your son. What will you tell him? Will you say Im sorry, I cant be your mum any more?
Ill still see Charlie, Victoria replied.
And Emily?
Emily, overhearing, hadnt been upset about the split with her dad or brother; she just kept on.
Sorry, Arthur, she whispered, when did this happen?
He gave me a child
Well, who raises children that arent theirs?
If hed told us earlier, maybe wed have forgiven him, but now its too late.
Emily listened in, not knowing what the future held, but it was clear their childhood was over.
