Casey Watson - A Boy Without Hope, Part 1 of 3

Some things are set in stone. Thats as true for me as for anyone. Those little anchor points of life that provide stability and reassurance. The perfect way to make coffee. Tylers special breakfast porridge. The fact that Christmas wouldnt be Christmas without at least a dozen strings of fairy lights. Mikes bear hugs. My many cleaning routines.

Birthdays, too, of course. Not to mention all the associated parties. Particularly those of my grandkids, in which my role was unchanging: chief entertainment officer, chief caterer and, invariably, chief bouncer as well.

I held two hot, sticky hands in mine those of my two darling granddaughters, whom I was about to lead, suitably subdued, back into the dining room.

Now, girls, I said in my strictest grandmother voice, are you sure you can go back into the party without arguing?

Marley Mae, my daughter Rileys youngest, opened her mouth in indignation. She was never one to shy away from giving the world the benefit of her opinion, but clearly thought better of it having caught my expression. So instead she sighed heavily, as if having been forced to concede a great military defeat.

Well? I asked.

Yes, Nan, she said finally, reaching around to wrap her cousin in a bear hug and mumbling the requisite sorry as she did so.

My son Kierons daughter Dee Dee, now three, was a year younger than her bossier cousin, and though they loved one another, they were both very competitive, so managed to find an argument in just about anything. Todays anything was a pink balloon, which both had laid claim to, and, in the ensuing scuffle, it was a miracle it hadnt already popped. Perhaps better that it had, to stop them squabbling over it. As it was, I had tethered it to the bannisters instead, telling them that if they couldnt share nicely then neither of them could have it. And I dont want to hear any more about it, I told them sternly. This is Jacksons birthday party. Which means its his special day. So no more of this arguing. You both got that?

They both duly nodded, keen to rejoin the party. So I opened the door and ushered them back into the dining room, where a game of musical bumps had just started.

You should have left both of them on the naughty step, Mum, Riley said as I rejoined her in the kitchen area. Marley Mae gets four minutes at home when she carries on like that. She needs to learn to share better.

Oh, she will, I told my daughter. School will sort her out in no time. Its only because she has two older brothers who give into her all the time because they want a quiet life.

Maybe, she said, though she sounded unconvinced. I wish she could go full-time. Shes more than ready. And so am I! September seems a very long way away still.

Problems? Kieron asked, as he passed me his empty coffee mug. Well, they all look as if theyre having fun. I cant believe Jackson is ten already. Can you?

Kieron has Aspergers, which is a mild form of autism, and one of his special talents is asking questions, making statements and issuing instructions all at once. Its been the same since he was little; as if he makes these mental lists of every passing thought, before opening his mouth.

No problems we cant handle, I told him. And yes, they are having fun. And, yes, time flies I cant believe Jackson is ten already either. And yes, Ill make more coffee. Anything else? I added, laughing at his confused expression.

Oh, yes, he said, handing me my mobile, which I hadnt spotted. Here you go. John Fulshaws on the phone.

Oh Kieron, honestly, I said, snatching it from him. You could have started with that, couldnt you? Sorry, John, I added, as I put the phone to my ear. As you probably noticed, youve caught me mid-party. Hang on, let me find somewhere quieter to talk.

I wove a path through a dining room full of small people, and some unfamiliar adults, into the conservatory, en route to the back garden the one place, because of a heavy April shower earlier, we had opted to make out of bounds. Id happily agreed to Rileys suggestion that we hold Jacksons party at our house it was a good bit bigger, so it made sense but Id forgotten just how many friends the average ten-year-old simply must invite to their parties. These days, a whole forms worth, plus a couple of extras, seemed to be the norm. Throw in a couple of cousins, and friends from various clubs and activities, plus half their parents (did they not have anything better to do?), and there didnt seem an inch of our downstairs that wasnt occupied by a human, and the house seemed to be creaking under the strain of it all.

Literally, I thought, as I clacked across the squeaking floorboards.

You sound a bit ruffled, Casey, John said, once Id shut both the door and noise behind me. I could always call back later if youd rather?

No, no, I said, perching myself on an upturned log at the bottom of the garden. Its just a birthday bash for one of the grandkids, and its a good excuse to escape for a few minutes, to be honest. I think Im getting a little old for all this mayhem. But nothing that wont be over within the next hour or so. Anyway, long time no speak. To what do I owe the pleasure? Have you got a child for us?

In reality, it had been no more than three weeks or so, but John, being our fostering link worker, was so much a part of the regular fabric of our lives that three weeks was actually quite a while. Wed been in limbo for the last three months or so recuperating, for want of a better word, after our last long-term child had left us.