SCOTLAND ZEN and the art of SOCIAL WORK
Couples at risk of Huntington’s disease are not usually allowed to adopt although they may be able to undertake fostering. IVF(in vitro fertilisation) and AID (artificial insemination by donor)may also be considered. Your decision to have children may depend upon the results of genetic testing or your religious beliefs. If you do have the faulty gene then your unborn children can be tested to see if they have inherited it.
I went to get the girls from dance class, my mate Betty had dropped them there earlier and then to collect John from school and take them straight to Kate’s house. They can’t wait another minute to see their new cousins, and they practically run the whole way up the road. Kate was alone with the twins, all the visitors had left and the babies had been fed and changed and faithful Phillip had been sent shopping with a list of all the things we had forgotten yesterday. Rosie and Theresa settled on the couch close together and Kate and I handed them each a baby. John knelt in front of them and all three were speechless with wonder. Rosie said with delight that they were the tiniest babies she had ever seen and gathered Paul to her little chest. Theresa said they were both beautiful and she loved them already. It was John’s turn next; he swapped places with Rosie,
‘How do you know who’s who, Aunty Kate?’
‘Well, it’s difficult at the moment because I’m a very new mum, but I’ve dressed them in different clothes to help everyone get it right. John’s holding Paul, he’s got a blue babygrow on and Theresa’s got David with the white one.’
‘Will you make sure they both learn to play football?’
‘I think I’ll leave that to Phillip, but they have a lot of things to learn before that.’
David opened his eyes and started to cry, and almost immediately Paul did the same, what a racket. Kate and I take over and hold and rock them to calm them down. They both burp monumentally and my kids giggle at this stereo wind attack and the crying crisis is over. We settle them back in the cradles and help to open the presents that have been arriving all afternoon from neighbours and friends. There are rattles and teddy bears and tiny clothes and soft satin shoes. Theresa and Rosie decide to organise the nursery and busy themselves putting the toys in the two cots and the clothes in the new blue and white chest of drawers and two teddies on the windowsill. John sits between the two cradles and observes the babies on each side like a spectator at a slow motion tennis match they are squirming and making small noises as they settle to sleep.
‘What do they want?’ he says.
‘Maybe they need a story to settle them down,’ says Kate.
‘You mean me tell them a story?’ John is taken aback by this.
‘Why not, you’ll be great at it, storytelling runs in this family. Go on, give it a try’
John sits up a bit straighter and takes on a self important look, he clasps his hands and bends his head unsmiling for a few moments, as if composing a great saga. In a quiet calm voice he tells them a story of a boy called John.
This boy called John is a great footballer, of course, the best in his team. One day he is playing for his school team against Newarthill primary. In the first half he scores a goal and assists another. At half time he goes to the dressing room and his trainer says there are a few important scouts at the game. This makes him very nervous in case he makes a fool of himself but he runs out for the second half determined to do the best for his team and forget about the big teams looking for talent. He scores another goal from the twenty-five yard line and assists the forth. The final score is four one to Saint Bernadette’s and the crowd go wild. He is the hero of the game, man of the match. While he is taking his boots off in the dressing room a man scouting for Celtic comes in and there is silence, like a sudden fist punching against you ear. He walks right up to John and asks if he would kindly come for a trial at Parkhead. John is ecstatic of course. He does very well at the trial, playing out of his skin and showing off for them. He plays his heart out, and when he is old enough he signs a contract for a year. He is very rich now and buys his Mother a car and his two wee cousins David and Paul a new pair of football boots each. At the end of the first season they have a friendly game with Valencia and he scores the winning goal. He is spotted by a scout for Barcelona. This is his dream come true. He is transferred to Barcelona, the greatest team in the universe. John moves his whole family to Spain and they have lots of money and have a great time.
The babies are now asleep and Kate and I are transfixed by the story, and by the ease at which John slipped into the storyteller’s role. We will need to start writing these down, for the next generation.
‘Well, I think that deserves a chocolate biscuit, you did very well, I think they loved it,’ said Kate, her eyes a glassy with tears, ‘you’ll be a great big cousin to these boys.’ John is beaming with self importance, so we tell him to keep an eye on them as we have to chat at the back door for a minute. In the garden we share a cigarette and I ask Kate how she is really feeling, as it’s been quite a day.
‘I feel like Theresa and Rosie, as if I’m playing a game, folding clothes, feeding babies, changing nappies and at the end of the day I’ll tidy up and put everything back in the toy box, it just doesn’t feel real yet.’
‘They’ve been so good I think the hippy duo must have given them mogadon to make a peaceful handover and a good impression, but believe me the reality will hit when they both start bawling at two in the morning.’ I said
‘My sons don’t bawl,’ Kate stops, amazed at what she’s said, ‘My sons, my sons, listen to me,’ she is now laughing and crying at the same time.
‘I know it’s been a strange day but don’t crack up so soon, what did you think of the aged Sonny and Sher.’
‘I thought they were great, very different but helpful, but I thought Mam would’ve had a stroke when Horse was introduced. She did very well to keep her mouth shut and not ask what saint was it he was called after.’
‘She cornered me in the Kitchen and said Aunty Therese had phoned to tell her about my visit, but it wasn’t the right time or place for a discussion or a row so I made a quick exit.’
‘You’re digging yourself in deeper with Mam, but there’s no point in me telling you what to do, you’ll do your own thing. Tommy called to ask if everything had gone well and said he’ll visit after the funeral on Monday. He says he can’t wait to see the boys.’ Phillip appeared and hearing the last words he said,
‘We can’t thank him enough for making things run smoothly, but he said he was just doing his job, he’s a nice man Mags you should hold on to him.’
‘Sure thing Phillip, as if I have any experience at that, but I know what you mean, he’s a nice man.’
We prepare to go home after me and the kids have hugged and kissed the twins soundly,
‘Your sons are beautiful beyond belief, they take my breath away,’ I leave Kate ready to cry again but Phillip is on hand beaming from ear to ear.
At home the kids all settle down to make cards for the twins, welcoming them to the family. Tommy phones and needs a full rundown on the foster parents and the delivery of the babies. He tells me the arrangements for the funeral and promises to see me as soon as he can,
‘I miss you Mags, but there is too much going on in my head right now.’ I know he is having a hard time at the moment, organising his Mother’s funeral and spending time with relatives he hasn’t seen for years.
‘Don’t worry, our time will come, it’s good to miss each other.’
As soon as I put the phone down, before I even get to feel sad about not seeing him the phone rings again and it is Mam. She wants to meet me tomorrow to talk. This sounds ominous,
‘Margaret, I think it’s time for us to have a wee chat, I want to talk to you about your visit to your Aunty Therese.’
‘No Mam its okay, you don’t need to worry yourself…’
‘I insist Margaret, please meet me in the morning.’ Bugger, what does she want to nag me with now? I reluctantly agree and put the phone down quite rudely. Maybe I’m too hard on her but I?
??m fed up with her avoidance if not outright lies about Uncle John. What else could she be hiding?