Devon, England 2014

A breeze from the sea brings the smell of seaweed up onto the beach and a warm March sun shines down from a blue sky. A large seagull cries and swoops above us as I spread a blanket on the sand and the children hurriedly sit down pulling off their socks and stuffing them into their shoes. As they jump up barefoot I say to Jack, "You can go as far as the rock pools, but don't go into them, I don't want you slipping on the seaweed, okay?" Jack nods and taking Cara's hand they each pick up a bucket and spade and run off together, legs working like pistons.

I sit down on the blanket. This is the first time I've sat down all day, although I know I won't be here long. A four year old and a six year old certainly know how to keep a woman on the go, even if one is at school and the other at nursery. Even so, I have never been happier. I'm smiling now, watching their antics. Jack is doing funny walks and Cara is in stitches.

I stand up as I see a woman walking a large dog by the shoreline. She lets him off the lead and he runs up to Jack and Cara, nosing into their buckets. Jack stands between himself and the dog to protect Cara, who fidgets behind him. The woman calls the dog, throwing a ball for him to chase and he runs off in the opposite direction, much to Cara's (and my) relief.

The children run back, seeking re-assurance.
"Did you see that dog, Jo? He was bigger than Rory....Cara was scared...."
Jack is out of breath, he's run so fast.
"Yes, but you did the right thing Jack, you took care of Cara," I say.
"Big dog," says Cara, her forehead creased in a frown. I search in the bag for a chocolate bar for each of them and a carton of apple juice. They eat and drink for all of twenty seconds and then are off again down the beach. I expect they will be up again in a few minutes as Jack likes to keep close to me, whenever he can.

We've fostered Cara for eighteen months now. She's a sweet little thing and I've grown very fond of her. She has short blonde hair and large blue eyes. Her vocabulary is poor for a four year old and she's only just begun toilet training. Caring for her has been challenging at times and her tantrums hard to cope with. We've been told it isn't autism, but more tests are forthcoming, so she'll need special help. Sadly, she was abandoned in a shopping trolley outside a Tesco supermarket when she was one year old, on a freezing cold January day. Her parents were never found. She needs a stable family to adopt her.

Jack has been with us for nine months. He's such a darling. He and Cara get on so well, it has made my life much easier. There have been fewer tantrums since he came, although it may be coincidence. Jack is extremely bright and is doing well at school being in the top set for all subjects. He needs constant re-assurance as he often feels insecure. Happily, he bonded with Cara straight away. He understands everything she tries to say. "Cara wants a drink" he says and she nods her head. "Cara didn't do that on purpose" he had remarked, when she'd written all over our cream sofa with a pen. (Tom and I weren't so sure!) Jack's mother died of a heroin overdose when he was two years old and his father is serving a long prison sentence, so he is also looking for a suitable long term family.

My thoughts turn to the conversation I'd had with my husband Tom this morning as he was preparing for work. He was combing his hair in front of the mirror.
"I know we said if I got pregnant we would stop fostering, but I don't think I can." I said.
"I couldn't bear for Jack and Cara to leave us. It would break my heart."
Tom turned round abruptly to face me.
"I know you've hinted at this before, but Jo... how could we fit three children into this house? It's barely big enough for the four of us and the dog. Anyway, we have to put this baby first. We've waited long enough for it."

Before I could reply, his mobile rang and he answered it. "Must dash, Paul's waiting in the van. I'll see you tonight." He planted a quick kiss on my cheek, grabbed his jacket and was gone. Even though I was feeling somewhat sad, I thought 'There goes the Sparky who lights up my life.'  And it is true...

Jack enjoys all the jokes about electricians. He's written them in a book to show his friends. Once, when Tom and I were arguing, Jack remarked "The atmosphere in this house is electric." He's quite the comedian!

The breeze turns chilly and I pick up my sweater and pull it on. The children are running back now, perhaps they are cold too? I feel their arms and find they are, so I hand Jack his hooded fleece and help Cara with her cardigan. I expect a tantrum, but she appears too busy to think about it.

"Come and see Jo, there's a dead sea creature down there. I think it's a jelly fish." says Jack.
"Ellyish" says Cara. They take a hand each and pull me laughing to my feet.  Together, we run down the beach to inspect the creature, which is a jelly fish, and Jack takes pictures of it on my mobile to show Tom later on. He is very fond of Tom and likes to include him in his day by showing him pictures or asking him questions.

We spot a large piece of driftwood further along and the children want to investigate.
"No, please keep away." I say "It's full of splinters...look children, carry on digging we'll
probably be going home soon as it's starting to get cold." I walk back to my blanket, looking over my shoulder to check that they are where I left them, digging in the wet sand looking for sand hoppers.

My thoughts turn to the driftwood. I wonder where it has come from and where it will end up. It strikes me that Cara and Jack are like driftwood, tossed about by life, not knowing where their future lies; certainly, there will be no plan to keep them together whatever we might say. The sudden awful vision of them being torn apart brings tears to my eyes and I search in my pocket for a tissue. Isn't there enough heartache in the world already?

The children are running back again, Jack leading the way, holding out his hand.
"Mummy, mummy...look I've got a splinter!" he cries.
I'm startled at his words. Why is he saying this today when he's never said anything like this before? Again tears prick my eyes, but I try to control my emotions.
"You call me Jo, Jack. I'm not your mummy."
His brown eyes search my face, pleadingly.
"But I want you to be my mummy, Jo. Please be my mummy!"
He glances at Cara. "And Cara wants you to be her mummy too!"
My stomach lurches and I suddenly feel awkward. I take hold of his cold little hand and inspect the sore, red patch with the wooden splinter sticking into it. This is the very situation I wanted to avoid so I feel annoyed that Jack has disobeyed, but too upset to say anything.
"This looks nasty, we'd best get back to the car and the first aid kit. You're being very brave, Jack." He smiles at the compliment.

We pick up the blanket and gather our things together, Jack and I. Jack, as
always, very helpful. Cara starts to shriek, turning her peaches and cream complexion into that of a beetroot. "No go...no go..." she cries, stamping her feet.
Jack takes Cara's hands and immediately she stops screaming and looks up into his eyes.
"Look Cara, if you're good, Jo might give you a treat after tea. You'd like
that wouldn't you; chocolate ice cream!"
As usual, his words work their magic, where mine would fall like lead to the floor!

By the time we reach home my emotions are in turmoil, although one splinter has been extracted and one tantrum overcome. As I open the front door our black Labrador, Rory, rushes out wagging his tail looking pleased to see us. I kneel down to rub his head and ears, while the children kick off their shoes and throw them into the porch.
"Good boy, Rory." I say.
"Rory, Rory, good old Rory." sings Jack, stroking his back and Cara laughs.
The three of them disappear into the lounge and I follow and turn on the TV. Jack and Cara clamber onto the sofa and sit side by side resting their feet on Rory's back.
"I'll make some drinks." I say.
Then, like a bolt out of the blue, Jack asks
"If you were our mummy, would that mean Tom was our daddy?"
I am rendered speechless and retreat into the kitchen.

I stand in the kitchen feeling emotional. As I reach for a mug and a tea bag, I re-think the problem. If Jack and Cara need stability, surely Tom and I could adopt? Our Social Worker has said how much the children have flourished with us. I know it will be hard work bringing a baby into the equation, but babies grow up quickly. The trouble is we'd need to move house or have an extension, which we can't afford. I feel depressed.

The front door bangs. Tom is home early. I glance into the hall and watch
him crouching on the floor, one laughing child in each arm. "Hey, buster, had a good day?" he says to Jack. He kisses Cara on the cheek, saying, "How's my princess?"
I smile as I watch him chase them into the lounge. He comes into the kitchen, hugs me and kisses my nose.
"Hello darling, how are you?" His eyes twinkle mischievously.
"I'm fine, but you stink....." I say. "Go and shower."
Tom laughs and turns to go, just as the door bell rings. He goes to answer it and I
follow behind. He opens the door to a smart, well to do looking woman, her hair slightly greying, but beautifully styled. She holds out her right hand for Tom to shake.
"Hello, I'm Jack's Aunt Marie. I would like to see him please."
Tom throws me a startled look and I am struck with a sense of foreboding.

                                                                       *   *   *   *   *   *   *

In the September sunshine, I watch Tom and the children running on the beach with Rory. This is the beach where Tom first kissed me and later asked me to marry him.  Momentous decisions are often made on this beach, like the one to adopt Cara.

Jack is with us today as he now lives in the next village with his Aunt. She and her husband had worked abroad for many years and lost touch with her brother, Jack's father, as he was such a trouble maker. Only on returning to the UK did she learn of Jack's existence. I can't take to her, she's too pushy for my liking, but she certainly loves Jack and has accepted Cara.

I cried for a week when Jack left, but Tom said "Jo, we just have to go with the flow," so that is what I've done. I am grateful that Jack is still in our lives. He's happy and often comes to visit calling Cara his 'cousin.'

I glance down at our miracle babe, Sophie, sleeping peacefully in my arms.

There is no driftwood on the beach today...

                                                                                             THE END