Mummy Where Are You? (Revised Edition, new) (9 page)

              But how do you challenge these wrongs, when you are given no opportunity to do so?  How do you show why all of the lies and insinuations are wrong and the real culprit is being revered and supported by all?   That was the insanity.  That was the madness.   It was horrifying.  Here was I a good mother by all accounts being the subject of what could only be described as a witch hunt.  I endured endless criticism, judgment, scrutiny of my every word, thought and deed even from childhood, to fit the Court’s picture and demonise me in order to give my son to the man who had harmed him.  It was evil beyond anything and yet the army against me grew bigger each day and M regressed further, losing confidence, becoming babyish in his talk, and looking thin and neglected.   It was pure heartbreak - state- enforced cruelty.

              M’s constant pleas to me to take him home and his belief that I could make that happen, filled me with despair.  I did all I could to reassure him that I was fighting hard and would not give up.  I urged him to be brave and whilst he was not happy in foster care, the family were kind and the friendship he had forged with the girl in the family seemed to help.   Nothing however could make up for the loss of his mother and nothing could bring either of us comfort without each other. 

              We poured our love for each other into the two hours a week we shared at the CAS building.  In between the sessions I shopped for gifts that might bring him small comfort and help him feel connected with me.  I did this as much for myself as for him as I needed to feel close to him. He was in my thoughts every second of every day and our pain was as one.  We yearned for each other and with the help of Dan, I tried to believe this nightmare would soon be over and they would realise the momentous mistake they had made.  I tried not to feel hostile towards the CAS workers who were only doing their job and who at least were polite towards me.  I tried to believe that deep down they knew of the injustice but were powerless to go against the almighty power of the Department who had clearly fed them a pack of lies.  I clung to the hope that in three weeks a Judge would see the truth and order that M remain in Florida with me and if not, order that at least we both be kept in Florida whilst reports were done by officials who were not tainted and skewed in their beliefs but would act independently with M’s interests at heart rather than their own.

                Meanwhile I urged Dad, now that he had returned to the Island to contact friends who may be prepared to swear affidavits as to my good parenting.  My father asked my brother and tried two of my friends, but to our great sadness and horror, they would not help.  Whether it was through fear, or whether over time they had come to doubt me, I do not know, but even for M’s sake, they could not be persuaded. 

              It appeared that the ripples of the  Island's Courts and the Department had spread even further and had started to infect the minds of those who had once shown me love and support.  Those who had children of their own, I suspect felt that they may somehow be turned on themselves or have their own lives put under scrutiny.  My brother’s attitude hurt the most as he was a vicar. I felt he should show compassion, but he allowed some past childhood sibling jealousy or rivalry to prevent him doing what was best for M.  He could not get past his own feelings towards me for what he seemed to see as preferential treatment by my parents towards me as the youngest in the family.  It was a warped view and not even accurate, but in his mind it clearly was a factor and instead of thinking of my innocent child, he allowed that to prevent him from helping us – something I have found hard to forgive.

              Dan still remained optimistic.  He believed we would be able to stay in America for the immediate future if not forever.  The Fall school term was due to start and if M was placed in school it would strengthen our position as far as staying.  Dan believed they would have to enrol him, but when the term started, they did not.  The CAS lawyer was clearly confident that M would be returned to the Island.

              The date of the hearing loomed  and Dad flew back out to give me support.  At least this meant he could see M who was delighted to see him too.  We prayed hard for the right outcome and went to Church with our new friends.  The congregation offered up prayers for us and everyone told us to believe and have faith that M would be returned to me.  Nothing else made any sense and they surely had to consider M’s wishes and feelings.  We firmly believed, as did Dan that the United States Courts would not risk sending him back to potentially suffer further abuse.  They could not take the chance of getting this wrong. 

              We didn't know who would be sitting on our case, but it was likely to be one of two female Judges.  One of them, the stern-faced Judge who had been present at the first hearing and the other, a Judge who had ruled to keep a mother and child in America on another case where the mother had run.  We prayed to get the second Judge as having made this ruling in the past, we felt she would be more sympathetic. 

              The morning of the hearing came.  I had contact with M at the CAS for two hours before hand.  It was so hard because if the Court ruled against us, it might be last time I saw him for a while.  I held my tears back as I held him close to me and told him that everything would be alright.  He said that he was looking forward to going to school in America and believed he would be coming back to me, seeking reassurance that this would be the case.  I did my best to overcome the doubt in my heart and said I was sure that everything would be fine and  we would be back together soon.  Deep down I feared the worst.  No one had ever listened to either us - was anyone going to listen to us here, thousands of miles from home?  Would the Judge even look at the papers?  Would she read my medical notes and damn me for something that happened in the dim distant past, something that should not have happened?  Or would she see the love that existed between M and I and focus on our right to be together? 

              We produced the scrapbook that M and I had so lovingly put together as evidence of this great love – pictures of our past life to, notes he had written and drawings he'd done of he and I holding hands.  If the Judge was a mother, would she find it in her heart to cherish this love as we did and not want to cause my innocent little boy even more pain?  I sent silent prayers to God – a God I had long since ceased to believe in – desperately willing myself to have some faith that the Judge would see this for what it was, a grave case of injustice.

              Miriam and Bill came to the Court to wait with us.  Bill, a deeply religious man turned over pages in his bible as we waited.  Miriam, not so inclined, offered her bright positive attitude of total faith in the truth prevailing.  Each in their own way offered their support which we gratefully accepted.  There was no sign of anyone from the Island - not even M’s father.  Dan felt this would also strengthen our position as it would appear as a lack of interest on his part.  It was clear why he hadn't come out though.  He knew that anyone witnessing M's distress at seeing him, would have seen the truth.

              We filed in quietly and sat subdued in the Court room.  Our hearts sank as the Judge who had been at the first hearing walked in, her face emotionless and cold.  I tried to reach her gaze and hoped she could see the love in my heart, but she did not look at me once.  Dan loomed large next to me – an imposing figure in his Court attire.  It was the CAS lawyer who got to speak first and I sat there with every word wounding me as she made their case – a case based on all the lies that had been perpetrated by the Social Worker – a case built on hearsay evidence from biased people trying to protect their jobs, with not a thought for a little boy whose life had been smashed to pieces from the day he confided to his Mummy, what his Daddy had done – whose world had been turned upside down for daring to say that he wanted it to stop.

              The hearing went on for most of the day.  Dan was convincing and strong in Court.  He pulled no punches.  He pointed out the lies, he painted a glowing picture of the relationship M and I shared.  He criticised the CAS and he focused on M’s rights and mine.  Listening to him, I looked for a flicker of understanding in the face of the Judge, but saw only frigidity, boredom and disinterest.  I wondered if she was even listening.  I hoped I would be called to give evidence and she could see that I was a well-educated, articulate woman who loved and lived for her son.  Dan said I might be called, but that he could not ask for this, it was down to the Judge as to whether she wanted to hear from me and she did not ask me to give evidence. I was not sure if my evidence would have helped or not, but I longed for an opportunity to show her I was not some crazy woman who had acted on a misguided whim, but a mother trying to protect her only child from harm.

              The day drew to a close.  The Judge told us she would be giving a written Judgement in the next few days.  All we could do now was to go back to the house that we had longed to make our home and wait in agony for the verdict.

              Dad and I took trips around the area to fill the time and distract ourselves as best we could.  It was fruitless but we had to get through the next few days somehow as we waited for the call that would seal M's fate and my own. 

              We had bought Miriam’s car from her as without an American license I couldn't get insurance and we were spending a fortune on hire cars.  The car would stay in Miriam’s name, but in effect, be mine.  It seemed a good solution and we had done this believing that M would be kept in America even if he did not immediately return to me.  We thought too, that they must surely need to get an expert opinion from an Independent child psychologist.  Whilst staying in foster care, would be hard for M, if it led to him being kept with me, it would be short term pain for a long term future of happiness.   It would be preferable to him being returned to potential harm and perhaps being forced to live immediately with his father.

              Even though we drove miles and explored the area, our thoughts stayed firmly on the case.  Sitting in the house made everything worse, as all we could do was brood.  Being away from the house did nothing to ease this, but it helped to pass the interminable hours. The weekend seemed to last forever and life had become surreal and Kafkaesque.  We were a far cry from the idyllic life we had once had. Our surroundings were alien, our life had turned upside down overnight and we were vague somnambulists waiting to wake up from a nightmare that refused to end.

              It was the middle of the following week before we heard anything.  Dad and I had gone into town to get some lunch.  We had found a nice Sushi bar and were treating ourselves to Sushi and a glass of wine.  We still hung onto the hope that the outcome would be positive and we tried to see the lack of news as good news.  We refused to believe that anything other than M’s return to me would be the outcome. 

              Half way through lunch my mobile rang.  It was Dan.  He said the Judgment was in - “they are sending him back." The floor threatened to go from under me as I stood outside to take the call.  “No” I screamed down the phone “No, this can’t happen.  We have to appeal straight away.”  Dan sounded flat, sad and resigned.  “I’m so sorry Maam.  I am as shocked as you are.  I don’t do appeal work, so I’ll have to point you in the direction of someone who does.  You better come into the office.”   Tears pouring down my cheeks I broke the news to Dad.  We abandoned our lunch and set off for Dan’s office which was at close walking distance.  Dad was on the verge of tears too.  We, none of us, could believe this. 

              Dan was sympathetic but powerless to do any more for us.  His view was that the American Court had ruled on Jurisdiction because they feared an influx of mothers running to the States if they set a precedent.  However, whatever the reason behind the decision, the clock was ticking if we were going to launch an appeal and we needed to keep our wits about us and find someone else to take the case quickly before they put M on a plane back to the Island.  He may have already gone and I half expected my contact scheduled for the following day to be cancelled.  However, when I got home there was a message from the CAS to say that contact would go ahead as planned.  Whilst grateful for the chance to hold him for the last time in who knew when, I half dreaded it, as I knew that M would be in a state and had no idea what he'd been told.

              We spent the afternoon phoning, yet again, through the phone book of names of lawyers that Dan had recommended, without success.  It seemed there were few Appeal lawyers in Florida and unlike British lawyers they didn’t routinely do their own appeal work but farmed it out to those who specialised.  Most of the Appeal lawyers were based miles away and whilst we would have driven to the ends of the earth if necessary, the clock was ticking fast against us and we didn't know how much time we had, if any.  We needed someone immediately.  We at last secured an appointment for the following afternoon with a local law firm who had connections with Appeal lawyers.  We tried to hang onto hope and spent a sleepless night praying that we could get an Appeal launched before it was too late.

              The following morning I saw M with a heavy heart. The Social workers told me that I must reassure him that I would also go back to the Island.  They also said I could tell him that I would keep fighting to get him back which was something, but it was a very difficult contact and he was tearful and distraught  - whilst I did my best to stay upbeat for him, I was falling apart inside.

              We spent much of the time just clinging to each other and telling each other how much we loved each other.  I told him that his Grandad would be able to see him when back on the Island and would return immediately and that I would get back as soon as I could.