Chapter Six
FRANCIS
One week later
St Thomas Hospital
Adele is crawling happily across the nursery floor, giggling as she plays with one of the volunteers, under the watchful eye of Nurse Duke.
I rest my forehead for a moment against the doorframe, just watching her.
I’m exhausted from the night shift, but if I’m honest, it’s not the lack of sleep that’s weighing on me. It’s the thought of what I’m about to do.
I’m here to collect Adele, to take her to the meeting that was arranged with Sarah Simmons, the social worker, and Detective Patel.
She’s made a full recovery from the pneumonia; clinically, there’s no reason to keep her on the ward any longer.
And with no word, no trace of Kelly Adkins… no one coming to claim her… it’s becoming painfully clear that the only remaining options are foster care or a children’s home.
I’ve cared for hundreds of children, many of them with difficult backgrounds. By now, I should have built up enough professional detachment not to let their personal situations get to me.
But this time… watching Adele lift her little head, the fine red fuzz of her hair catching the light as she searches the volunteer’s face for a smile… this time feels different.
A strange sense of disorientation creeps in, like the ground beneath my feet isn’t quite solid anymore.
Maybe I just haven’t slept enough lately.
Maybe I just need a few days off, if only I didn’t know how much strain that would put on the ward.
Thankfully, it’s nurse Duke who snaps me out of my thoughts. She must have spotted me hovering by the doorway, because she calls out and gestures for me to come in.
“Dr Starkey? What are you doing there? Didn’t you just finish a night shift? Come in for a moment, I’ll make you a cup of coffee!”
“Thanks, Eliza,” I reply, genuinely grateful for her kindness. “I’d love to, but I’ll have to take a rain check. I’m actually here to pick up this young lady…” I nod towards Adele with a smile, just as she lifts her face to look at me.
“We’ve got an appointment with Mrs. Simmons and Detective Patel,” I add, already beginning to feel the unpleasant stirrings of nausea in the pit of my stomach.
“Why didn’t you have someone call me? I would’ve taken her myself,” Eliza replies, ever thoughtful.
Then she adds, “You should go home and rest, doctor, you’re dead on your feet.
I’ll take care of the little one. We’ve just changed her; I’ll grab her medical file and bring her to the appointment myself. Just tell me where to go…”
“No!” I cut in, a little too sharply, just as she’s bending down to lift Adele into her arms.
“Erm… Sorry, Eliza, I didn’t mean to snap at you,” I add quickly, catching the surprised look on her face.
“I really do appreciate the offer, and yes, I’m definitely running on no sleep, but…
I want to take little Adkins myself. You see, I’m the one who admitted her and…
” I trail off, not even sure how to finish the sentence.
Eliza’s probably right, I should let her take Adele to the appointment, but I still can’t bring myself to do it.
Instead, I kneel down on the soft foam floor and hold my arms out towards Adele, who doesn’t even hesitate. She crawls over without needing any coaxing and lets me scoop her up.
As I rise to my feet with her warm little body curled against my chest, I catch Eliza’s understanding gaze.
“Don’t worry, doctor, I get it,” she says softly. “This little one’s an absolute gem. I’ve never heard her fuss, not even when we had to put in the IV…” Her voice trembles just slightly, but then she carries on.
“Life hasn’t been too kind to baby Adkins so far… but I really hope she finds a proper family. One that loves her like she deserves.”
I don’t know what else to say, so after thanking the two women, I leave with Adele held tightly in my arms.
As I walk down the corridor, heavy with the scent of disinfectant, a lump rises in my throat, and with every step, it seems to grow.
In the staff room, Caroline is already waiting, along with Detective Patel and Ms. Simmons.
The moment they see me enter with the baby in my arms they all turn to greet me with strained smiles.
The social worker, the oldest of the three and, despite her world-weary expression, the kindest-looking, steps forward and gently strokes Adele’s cheek.
But the little one, as if she could somehow sense the bad news this woman might bring, turns her head away in protest, hiding her face in the crook of my shoulder and curling up there, unusually quiet.
“Shall we sit down for a moment?” asks Detective Patel, who, just like last time, is the first to cut straight to the point.
As we all take our places on the hard plastic chairs around the table, she continues, “Based on the clinical reports you’ve submitted, which, we must say, have been both thorough and punctual, we can assume that Adele Adkins is ready to be discharged, is that correct?”
Caroline and I don’t even need to exchange a glance. We both nod in perfect unison, confirming the child’s full recovery.
At that point, while Detective Patel nods in silent agreement, it’s Ms. Simmons who speaks up: “As I’m sure you’ve gathered from the absence of any further updates on our end, the child remains under the custody of the State, and therefore, under the care of Social Services…”
“There’s still been no word from Kelly Adkins, then?” I ask, unable to stop myself, as Adele shifts more comfortably in my arms and begins sucking her thumb with quiet determination.
The social worker opens her mouth to reply, but is swiftly cut off by the detective, who shoots her a sharp look: “As we’ve already explained, Doctor, this information is protected under privacy regulations and is entirely irrelevant to the reason we’re here today, namely, to confirm the child’s clinical condition. ”
At that point, she gestures quickly with her hand, inviting the other woman to continue, while Caroline gives me a look filled with guilt, as though she were the one who’d just shut me down so abruptly.
Since there’s no real point in arguing, I decide to stay silent, waiting at least to find out what Adele’s immediate future will look like.
“Given the particular uncertainty of the situation,” Ms. Simmons finally says, “I’ve assessed that, as things stand, the most appropriate placement for the child would be a residential care facility.”
She doesn’t seem particularly pleased with that decision herself.
“We still need a few days to finalise the paperwork,” the detective adds, her voice calm but firm, “but Adele will be transferred soon. By the end of the week, at the latest.”
Her tone leaves little room for objection, yet I still feel compelled to ask one last question.
“Why can’t she be placed with a foster family? I understand that she’d be looked after in a care home too, but she’s so young… and she misses her mother. Wouldn’t it be better for her to experience the warmth of a family, even if only temporary?”
The detective now stares at me with open hostility, but, against all odds, it’s Ms. Simmons who speaks up.
“Dr Starkey…” she begins, her tone patient, almost as if addressing a child.
“I understand these procedures may seem difficult to grasp, but placing a child in Adele’s situation into foster care isn’t as straightforward as you might think, believe me.
Her mother’s rights haven’t been revoked, not yet.
Even though she walked away and effectively abandoned her daughter, she could return in a few months’ time, and despite everything, a judge might still grant her custody. ”
She shakes her head at my stunned expression, a gesture that feels almost patronising, then goes on, “You’d be surprised how often that happens.
Very few families are willing to take in a child this young, with all the emotional and practical burden that comes with it, knowing full well the child could be taken away again at any moment… ”
“But… but is it really possible that nothing at all can be done to protect the child’s emotional stability?” I ask, exasperated.
The social worker answers in her usual calm tone, not losing an ounce of composure.
“Not really, no. At least not until the child is declared legally adoptable.”
“And how long does that usually take?” I ask, increasingly worried.
“It’s hard to say, but typically… it takes years.”
“Years?” I burst out, incredulous. “And what’s Adele supposed to do in the meantime?”
“If all goes well, she’ll remain in the group home we plan to place her in over the next few days. Otherwise, if the facility at some point can no longer keep her, we’d have to find her a new placement, unless, of course, her mother returns to claim her before then…”
“That can’t be! There has to be a family willing to take care of her long-term, even without the intention of adopting her, right?”
“If you think you can do my job better than I can, be my guest,” the social worker replies, infuriatingly unbothered, while Caroline and Detective Patel glance between us as though we’ve both lost our minds.
Patel doesn’t say a word. She just gets to her feet, clearly annoyed, and signals to her colleague that their time here is up, that there’s nothing more to discuss.
But Ms. Simmons seems to think otherwise. She stands as well, meets my gaze, and says curtly, “Then you find this perfect family.” She shakes her head, like she’s talking to a lunatic.
And maybe I am one. Fully, entirely mad. Because as the two women turn towards the door, already half out and ready to get on with their day, I hear myself saying the words I know, without a shadow of a doubt, will turn my life upside down.
But I can’t stop myself.
“I am that family.”