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Can I Let You Go?: A heartbreaking true story of love, loss and moving on
Can I Let You Go?: A heartbreaking true story of love, loss and moving on
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Can I Let You Go?: A heartbreaking true story of love, loss and moving on

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‘Now, Faye,’ Becky said, ‘before we arrange a day for you to move to Cathy’s, do you have any questions?’

Faye looked sheepishly at her gran and then asked, ‘Can I bring Snuggles with me?’

I thought that Snuggles might be a small caged animal, as there was no sign of a dog or cat, but then Becky explained: ‘Snuggles is a cuddly toy that goes everywhere with Faye. In fact, where is Snuggles?’ She looked around the room.

‘I hid him,’ Faye said, giving an impish grin. ‘Gran said Cathy might think I was a baby if I had him in our meeting. He’s here.’ With a laugh she turned and, reaching behind the cushion on the sofa, brought out a cute, furry soft toy. It was an animal of indeterminable breed with big doleful eyes and soft silky fur that asked to be petted. Faye held him to her face and rubbed her cheek against him soothingly.

‘Hello, Snuggles,’ I said. ‘Nice to meet you. Yes, of course you must bring him with you.’

Wilma tutted and Stan raised his eyebrows indulgently. ‘She’s had Snuggles since she was a small child and he goes everywhere with her,’ he explained. ‘At the day centre and the stables they put him in the office for safe keeping. Heaven forbid if he got lost.’

‘I’ll keep a close watch on him,’ I said.

Faye kept Snuggles pressed to her cheek as Becky asked us, ‘Any more questions from anyone?’

Stan shook his head and then Wilma looked at me and said, ‘Will Faye be seeing your parents? Becky said you were a close family and Faye gets on very well with older people. Probably because we’ve brought her up.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘We are a close family and she’ll see my parents whenever we do, as long as it doesn’t clash with when she sees you.’ I stopped. A lump had suddenly risen in my throat and I felt my eyes fill. My bottom lip trembled. Don’t cry, you silly woman, I told myself. But they’d seen my discomposure and were looking at me. I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It’s just my mother now. We lost my dad recently. It was his funeral last Tuesday.’

‘Oh, I am sorry,’ Becky said, touching my arm kindly. ‘We didn’t know. The records haven’t been updated. I’ll tell Edith to change them so this doesn’t happen again.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, fighting to recover my composure. I felt such a fool. I took another deep breath and then said, ‘Yes, we are a close family, and Faye will be part of our family while she is with us.’ I left it at that, for I knew that to say any more about my parents, or rather Mum, would open the floodgates on my tears.

‘Faye,’ Becky now said, looking at her. ‘It’s Thursday today. I suggest we move you to Cathy’s at the weekend. Does that suit everyone?’ We all nodded. ‘Any preference for Saturday or Sunday?’ She looked around.

‘Sunday,’ Wilma said. ‘Gives me a chance to sort out what Faye needs to take with her.’

‘Sunday is fine with me,’ I said.

‘Do you want to take Faye in a cab so you can see where she is going to live?’ Becky now asked Wilma and Stan.

‘There’s no need,’ Wilma said. ‘We’ve seen the photographs Cathy brought. It would be such a kerfuffle getting us all down and into the cab, and then back again. We’re on the council waiting list for a ground-floor flat or bungalow,’ she added, glancing at me.

‘It must be very difficult for you up here,’ I said. ‘I can collect Faye. One of my children can come with me and help with her bags so we don’t have to make too many trips up and down in the elevator.’

‘That sounds good, thank you,’ Becky said. ‘What time shall we make it on Sunday?’

‘I’m easy,’ I said.

Stan and Wilma didn’t offer any suggestion on time so Becky said, ‘Shall we say two o’clock? Then Faye can have some lunch here with you before she leaves.’

‘OK,’ I said. Stan and Wilma nodded.

‘Great,’ Becky said and made a note before putting away her pad and pen.

Faye wanted to show me her bedroom before we left, which was a good sign. She was more relaxed with me now. Becky stayed in the living room while I went with Faye. It was a medium-size room, prettily decorated in shades of pink, with shelves of cuddly toys and dolls, much like a young girl’s bedroom might be. I admired it and then we returned briefly to the living room, before Faye came with Becky and me to see us out. Stan and Wilma remained seated in the living room and I had the feeling that it was probably such a struggle for them to get around that they only moved when they had to.

At the door Faye threw her arms around Becky. ‘She always hugs me goodbye,’ Becky explained. Then Faye wanted to hug me, so childlike and innocent in her display of affection and at odds with her obvious pregnancy.

‘I like you,’ she said after a moment, drawing back.

‘Good. I like you too,’ I said. ‘See you on Sunday. Three more sleeps.’

She smiled and we said goodbye.

‘Snuggles says goodbye too,’ Faye added.

‘Bye,’ I said.

Becky and I left and Faye closed the door.

‘Well, what do you think?’ Becky asked once we were in the elevator. ‘She’s a nice kid. Her grandparents have done a good job of bringing her up, although they can be overprotective.’

‘Yes, she’s lovely,’ I said. ‘But how on earth did she get pregnant when they never let her out of their sight?’

‘Exactly what they and I would like to know,’ Becky said.


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