‘Didn’t he look here?’ I breathed, unable to bear the suspense of Sandra’s story.’
‘Oh yes, he contacted the authorities here a number of times, and gave both the names Ondura, which is Tayo’s correct surname, and Mezer, which is Minty’s, but of course, with Minty and Tayo not registered for anything, they were invisible. They weren’t on any database in either name.’
I still couldn’t really believe what I was hearing. ‘But why didn’t the Home Office have any record of them entering the country?’
‘Mr Ondura thinks they must have used forged passports in completely different names. Apparently Minty associated with a pretty undesirable crowd out there and could have laid her hands on them easily.’
‘But I can’t understand why Tayo has never mentioned his real surname to us. He must have realized it might have helped trace his father. I remember asking him if his father’s surname was Mezer and he said he didn’t know.’
‘I don’t know, we’ll ask him at some point. I’m still getting over the shock of speaking to his father.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘It’s absolutely incredible! It’s still sinking in. There’s no mistake, is there?’
‘I don’t see how there could be. From what Mr Ondura said, Tayo’s recollections of his early years in Nigeria are spot on. Mr Ondura does live in a big house by the sea, and he used to travel a lot with his work, and still does. While he was away his mother, Tayo’s gran, looked after Tayo with the help of a nanny when he was a baby. I didn’t ask Mr Ondura if he was tall and muscular,’ she said with a laugh, ‘but when I told him Tayo loved his sport, he said he must have got it from him. He plays golf and goes to the gym regularly. He used to be very good at football and nearly turned professional when he was younger.’
‘But that’s exactly as Tayo said! And all the time I thought how sad it was that he needed to invent this amazing father …’ I sat down on the stairs, completely overcome. ‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this.’
‘What?’ Tayo said, suddenly appearing in the hall having finished his breakfast.
‘Just a minute,’ I said to Sandra, and leaving the mouthpiece uncovered, I said to Tayo, ‘I’ll be with you in a minute. Go upstairs and do your teeth, and then find your swimming trunks.’
I waited until he’d passed me and was safely out of earshot. ‘OK, Sandra, he’s gone.’
‘Mr Ondura wanted to know all about Tayo obviously. I kept it positive though, there’ll be plenty of time for him to learn about the horrors of what happened when he talks to him, and I got the impression that he’s feeling guilty enough already. I told him what a big handsome lad Tayo was, how intelligent and well mannered he was. Mr Ondura said he was quite strict with Tayo, although he loved him deeply – he always insisted on respect and good manners, as did the school he sent him to. He said he placed a lot on a good education and the school encouraged self-reliance and traditional values. I said it was probably that grounding that saw Tayo through the last five years.’
‘Yes, it must have been,’ I said. ‘What’s the saying? Give me a child until he’s seven and I’ll give you the man.’
‘Exactly. Only in Tayo’s case, it was five years. Just shows how important those early years are.’
I imagined poor little Tayo, only five years old, snatched from a safe and happy life where he was looked after and loved, into a nightmarish whirlwind of chaos, hunger and danger. Could it all be over now? ‘Does he want Tayo back?’ I asked.
‘Oh yes – but it’s not going to be that easy, which is why we need to be careful what we say to Tayo. This is the first time I’ve dealt with a case like this and I’ve got to do some research into the legal position. But from what I know so far, Mr Ondura is going to have to apply to the courts here to become Tayo’s legal guardian. Because he wasn’t married to Tayo’s mother, he has no automatic right to Tayo under English law. Tayo is a Nigerian citizen and he did have a Nigerian passport but obviously that wasn’t used to enter the country otherwise the Embassy would have had a record. Now that Tayo is in care, he’s under our legal jurisdiction – that means that if Mr Ondura wants Tayo to live with him and his mother in Nigeria, they’ll have to be assessed there by our authorities. As you can imagine, none of this will happen quickly. The first thing Mr Ondura has to do is to become party to the proceedings here and I’ve told him to instruct his lawyer, which he said he will do today.’
‘Oh, Sandra,’ I said, a lump rising in my throat. ‘This is truly unbelievable! It’s like a dream come true! But what shall I tell Tayo?’
I longed to be able to run up and share all the excitement and emotion that was welling up in me, but, for Tayo’s sake, we had to think carefully about what was best for him.
‘I think you can tell him that his father has been found – or rather he found us – and that I’ve spoken to him and he’s going to phone this evening, that’s all. I’ve suggested seven if that’s all right with you. Mr Ondura wants to visit as soon as he can but I’ve made it clear to him there’s no question of him taking Tayo back until the legal position is clarified at the final court hearing. I’ve also said that when he sees Tayo it will be supervised contact to begin with, and he understood that. I also told him to bring the original of Tayo’s birth certificate with him, which we will need for court.’
‘How long do you think it’s all going to take?’ I said. ‘Tayo’s bound to ask.’
‘I don’t know yet. But his father and gran have got to be assessed and the judge has to be satisfied, so it’s going to take a while. At least six months, I’d say. We’ll have to get the final court hearing postponed.’
‘Sandra,’ I said, ‘how did Tayo’s father find him, or rather find you? And why now and not before?’
‘It was through the authorities here. The private detective that’s been working for Mr Ondura on and off for the last five years was doing another sweep of all possible countries and of course the name Mezer came up because it’s now on our systems. They discovered a month ago that Tayo was in this country but they’ve only just managed to track him down to this authority, and me.’
‘Good grief, that must have taken some doing!’ I thought of the labyrinthine nature of the Social Services, with its millions of names and thousands of cases. ‘Well, he must be serious about having Tayo back.’
‘Yes, that’s my feeling. Tell Tayo that his father has been looking for him for five years.’ Sandra’s voice shook again. ‘Cathy, Tayo was so sure of it. That little boy had unshakeable faith in his father. I think we owe him an apology.’
‘I know.’ My eyes moistened. ‘It’s like a fairy tale. Tayo’s knight in shining armour is really coming to rescue him after all.’ Then I stopped short as a terrible thought struck me. ‘Sandra, nothing can go wrong, can it? Tayo can’t lose it all again, can he?’
‘I don’t think so. Mr Ondura obviously loves Tayo. He was nearly in tears on the phone when he finally spoke to me. He’s obviously sincere and committed about looking after Tayo, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble to find him, and as long as he can satisfy the court that he can give Tayo a good home, and assuming Tayo wants to go, which I think we can take as read, it should happen. It’s more a matter of when. Now, I’ve got to see our legal department and put them in touch with Mr Ondura’s lawyer. Will you tell Tayo?’
‘Of course. I’ve never had anything nicer to tell someone.’
‘His dad will call at seven our time.’
‘Sandra,’ I said, laughing out loud, ‘I still can’t believe this. I think I’m as excited as Tayo’s going to be.’
‘My manager was sitting next to me when the phone call came through and she was in tears as well. Now, you go and tell him and I’ll speak to you later. Also I’ll try and visit tomorrow when I know more and after they’ve spoken. Good luck!’
‘Thanks. But I think this is one time I won’t be needing it.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
My Daddy
Iwalked
slowly up the stairs with carefully measured steps that belied my racing heart. How many times had I trodden this path up to the child I was fostering to impart some piece of news – good news, bad news, indifferent messages about changes in arrangements or appointments? Hundreds, possibly thousands of times. Yet I couldn’t ever remember being the harbinger of a piece of news that was so welcomed, deserved, and life-changing.
I turned right at the top of the stairs and went along the landing to Tayo’s door. I knocked and entered. Tayo was standing with his back to me, gazing out of the window.
‘Tayo.’
He turned and looked at me, big eyes dull and unenthusiastic. ‘I don’t want to go swimming,’ he said.
‘Then you needn’t.’ I felt the smile that I could no longer contain spread across my face. ‘Tayo, love, that was Sandra on the phone. She’s been speaking to your father in Nigeria.’
He looked at me, and no words, photograph, painting, or music could ever capture the transition that Tayo went through. His expression changed in seconds from sullen despondency to absolute ecstasy, as his eyes opened wider than I had ever seen them before and his face, his whole body, lifted as though a ton weight had been taken from his shoulders.
‘My dad?’ he said, not daring to believe. ‘My dad? He’s come?’
‘He’s not here, love, he phoned Sandra from Nigeria, he’s going to phone you this evening.’
‘My dad,’ he said again, still disbelieving. ‘My dad has really found me?’
‘He has, darling, he has. You were right all along. Your tall, big, strong dad who plays football and does everything you said, has been looking for you for five years. And now he’s found you.’
‘My dad,’ he said again wonderingly. Then he yelled at the top of his voice. ‘My dad! My daddy is coming to get me, I knew it!’
Tears streamed down his face as he shouted. I felt my own tears fall. He rushed into my arms, flinging himself at me with such force that I nearly lost my balance. ‘My dad! My daddy!’ His arms tightened round my waist and he buried his head into my chest as though he would never let go. I held him for all I was worth, my chin resting again his soft shining hair.
‘Tayo, love,’ I said softly. ‘He’s really done it. He’s found you, just like you said he would.’
Adrian’s bedroom door opened and a moment later he poked his head into the room. ‘Everything all right, Mum?’ he asked, still half asleep.
‘They’re found my dad!’ Tayo cried, lifting his head up to look at Adrian. ‘They’ve really found my dad.’
Adrian looked at me astonished and I nodded. ‘It’s right,’ I confirmed. ‘Or rather Tayo’s dad has found him. Long story, but he’s spent five years looking for him. He spoke to Sandra from Nigeria this morning and he’s going to phone here this evening.’
‘Cool,’ Adrian said. ‘Well done that man.’
Tayo began to calm down as the initial euphoria subsided and he realized how many other questions there were to ask. ‘Is he coming here?’ he cried. ‘Is he going to take me back? Has he got a passport? Has he got mine? Is my gran all right?’
Adrian retreated back to his bed, while I took a couple of tissues from the box, passed one to Tayo, and we both wiped our eyes. I took his hand. ‘Come on, let’s go downstairs and I’ll tell you what I know.’
Seated beside him on the sofa with Tayo’s hand in mine, I told Tayo what Sandra had told me, of his father’s search, which had led to his eventually finding him in this country. ‘He’s going to visit you, love but it will all take time.’
‘Will I go back to live with him?’
‘That’s what your dad would like but there’s a lot of legal things that have to happen and it will be the judge’s decision.’
‘I’ll go and see the judge and tell him I want to live with my dad.’
I smiled and gave his hand a little squeeze. ‘Certainly the judge will want to know that, but Alison, your Guardian, and Sandra will take care of it and tell him. All you’re going to have to do is be patient; Sandra thinks it will take about six months, but she can’t be sure.’
I could see Tayo calculating in his head. ‘So I’ll be with him for Christmas?’
‘It’s possible,’ I said. ‘But we won’t know anything for definite until the judge looks at all the reports and make his decision. And one of those reports will be from a social worker who will visit your dad and gran in Nigeria.’
‘Why?’
‘So the judge knows that it is a good place and they are good people.’
‘They are!’ he cried indignantly.
‘I know, love, but the judge must have the report.’ I didn’t want to puncture his dreams but he had to have an understanding of the complexity of the case, and realize that he wasn’t going to be sailing off into the sunset with his father in a week. ‘So let’s take it a stage at a time, OK?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, I understand.’ And he nodded again, shaking his head up and down as though his teeth would chatter.
I laughed. ‘And I think it would be a good idea to go swimming, otherwise you’ll be sitting here all day on edge, waiting for the phone call.’
‘Yes, sure,’ he said, bright again and full of enthusiasm. ‘My dad loves swimming.’
I laughed. The old Tayo was back, and it was wonderful to see him. ‘You’re right, he does, and golf, and going to the gym. And he is tall and muscular and you’re going to be just like him.’
‘And he’s black,’ Tayo added. ‘And I’m proud I’m his son.’
* * *
We went swimming, although I could see Tayo’s thoughts were far from the chlorinated and artificially heated water of the municipal baths. His dream-like gaze suggested he was in the naturally warm water of the South Atlantic as it lapped the white sands of the Gulf of Guinea and Nigeria, while his father and gran watched him adoringly from the beach.
Tayo was quieter in the car coming home, exhausted from the swimming and the emotions of the morning. He spoke intermittently, usually beginning with ‘I suppose …’ before suggesting what his father or his life in Nigeria might be like.
All I said was, ‘It’s quite possible; you can ask him when he phones.’ I still shook my head in wonderment at the thought that Tayo’s father was going to be calling us that very evening. It was truly incredible.
As I drew up outside the house, Tayo said, ‘I suppose my dad could have a wife now, with more kids?’
‘He might, but Sandra didn’t say anything about that. I’m sure he would have mentioned it to her and she would have told us. He still lives in the same house as when you were little, I think.’
‘With my gran. And the servants,’ Tayo put in. ‘I remember servants.’
Lucky them, I thought, one wouldn’t go amiss here.
‘I don’t mind if there are other kids,’ Tayo added, ‘as long as he has time for me.’
I turned and looked at him. ‘Tayo, your father will have all the time in the world for you, love. I’ve never heard of a man spending five years searching the world for his lost son. Never ever.’
He beamed. ‘I guess I’m important.’
‘You are, love. That’s for sure.’
I tried to keep Tayo absorbed in activities as best I could for the rest of the afternoon, but I was fighting a losing battle. He just wanted to think and talk about his father and what life would be like with him. When Paula and Lucy returned home after school and college, Tayo flew down the hall as soon as he heard their keys in the lock.
‘They’ve found my dad!’ he cried, before they’d even got in.
To say they joined in his excitement was an understatement. The whole house was in uproar as the cry of ‘They’ve found my dad!’ reverberated round the walls along with screams and cheers of delight. The neighbours must have wondered what on earth was going on next door.
By the time I served dinner, I was on a heightened state of alert, eating with one eye on the clock. Tayo had asked what time his dad was phoning but I’d said
that I wasn’t sure, then added the warning that sometimes it was difficult to get through on long-distance calls and he wasn’t to be disappointed if his dad couldn’t get a connection tonight, because he would doubtless try again in the morning. I didn’t want to let him pin his hopes on a particular time, and I was even beginning to wonder if I should have promised that it would be tonight.
We finished dinner but I hovered near the phone, unable to load the dishwasher or do anything I was supposed to. Tayo had the television on in the lounge but I doubted he was actually watching it. The clock ticked up to seven and then five past. At ten past the phone rang and I flew into the lounge to answer it. Tayo pressed the remote to switch off the television.
‘Hello?’ Silence, and then crackles on the line. My heart thudded and my mouth went dry. ‘Hello?’ I tried again, and the line cleared.
‘Is that Mrs Glass?’ a highly cultured male voice asked.
‘It is. Speaking.’ There was a second’s time delay before he replied.