Casey Watson - I Just Want to Be Loved

This book is a work of non-fiction based on the authors experiences. In order to protect privacy, names, identifying characteristics, dialogue and details have been changed or reconstructed.

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First published by HarperElement 2022

FIRST EDITION

Casey Watson 2022

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Source ISBN: 9780008484859

Ebook Edition April 2022 ISBN: 9780008484866

Version: 2022-02-03

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What a year its been! We are all now living in our new normal and it often feels like things will never be the same again. Work, travel, leisure time and even seeing our loved ones now carry certain risks and life can be pretty scary. There are things that have changed for the better too. Our time has suddenly become more important to us, our loved ones more precious. We have learned to develop relationships in new and unique ways and life online has never been so popular. In fact, Id like to thank a particularly lovely online friend, Marc Alan Powers Egan, and dedicate this book to him. Despite the problems that a chronic illness presents him with, he has tirelessly devoted his precious time to running a Facebook group targeted to readers of memoirs Fostering Memoirs and Fiction Book Club. He promotes lots of lovely authors on there, including myself, sharing his enthusiasm for life and interacting regularly with all of the members and authors.

Firstly I want to thank my fabulous agent, Andrew Lownie, and the wonderful team at HarperCollins, who continue to do such an amazing job. Ten years and counting now wow. Plus special thanks to Holly Blood, who has taken over the reins. Will be great when we can finally meet in person!

As always, I need to thank my beautiful friend Lynne Barrett-Lee, who takes my work and helps to transform it into the stories my readers love. Weve been a team for many years now, and Lynne is a much-valued friend.

I pay tribute to my lovely family, my husband and my close friends, who patiently listen to me rant on about the trials and tribulations of being a foster carer. Always there to give me fabulous advice and quick to point out all the positives when I feel things are going badly.

And lastly the most important people of all, you, my readers. If it werent for you, my stories simply wouldnt be out there. The wonderful reviews you leave me have really kept my spirits up this year and Im so, so thankful. As always, I send my love to you all.

I was very excited. As in very, very, very excited. Excited in a way that I hadnt been excited since well, probably ever. Not this kind of excited, in any case. So, I had barely got in through the front door before I was shouting ideas over my shoulder, to Mike, who was following me up the path.

Im going to have to think about my outfit, I was saying, as he came in behind me. I mean, given the time of year do you think a suit might be best? I mean, I know its not really me, but what do you think? I dont want to be freezing my proverbials off, do I? And you too. God, the only one that fits you would have the fashion police around in seconds! Mind you, perhaps Keirons thinking well go posh. Have you all matching. I should have asked him. Ill have to call him

Mike rolled his eyes, no doubt realising that this planning (hed call it mania) would go on for many months to come. I didnt care, though. It wasnt every day that your son and his fiance took you out for lunch to announce they were getting married, was it?

Oh, I do hope they manage to get a Christmas date booked, I enthused. I was already picturing the scene. Like that one in the Bridget Jones movie. Everywhere dusted in white, I rattled on at Mike, snowflakes still gently falling, the bride and her bridesmaids wearing white, faux-fur capes, with matching mufflers, and dainty gloves, and

Its May, Mike pointed out. Take a breath, love, for goodness sake. Theyve only just bloody told us. And I dont think theyll appreciate you diving straight in with all your mad ideas, either. At least not just yet, he added, his expression softening now, on seeing mine a little crestfallen. Put the kettle on, will you? I think weve had quite enough excitement for one day.

Party pooper, I thought, as I went into the kitchen. But no matter. In a bit, I could get on the phone to Riley. Shed been minding Kieron and Laurens youngest (it hardly seemed possible that little Carter was almost nine months old now) so that Kieron and Lauren could take us out and treat us, and I knew shed be as keen to do some wedding chat as I was, so I could pick up where Id left off soon enough. And men just didnt get it well, the men of my acquaintance, at any rate. It took months to plan a wedding properly. Everyone knew that. So, the time to start was now, whether Mike wanted to get involved or not.

To be fair, that or not was probably a given. And not just because my husband had no interest in bridal fashion (or any fashion, come to that), but because he wasnt generally a looking forward to it kind of man. He preferred enjoying the here and now, especially now we were both of us into our mid-fifties and time seemed to be whooshing past ever faster. And it had been a pretty intense start to the year, to be fair; up until three weeks ago wed barely had time to draw breath, owing to the mother and baby placement wed taken on back in January. And though wed fallen in love with little Seth and Tommy and, indeed, their mummy, Jenna, it had been the kind of placement that couldnt help but take a huge physical toll on us, as well as the emotional one, as life with tiny people in the house cant help but do.

So, wed taken a break, a proper break (Mike even took three weeks off work), starting with a week in Fuerteventura, just the two of us in the balmy heat, eating and drinking cocktails, and doing nothing very much at all, bar languid swims and sitting watching the glorious sunsets. Wed followed that with a couple of weeks just enjoying what had come to feel like a real novelty having nothing to worry about other than what time to drag ourselves out of bed in the morning.