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‘After all that’s happened with his advertising.’ Storm asked a little bitterly, quickly explaining to Ian.
He raised his eyebrows and frowned. ‘Typical of David Winters,’ he said angrily. ‘I never did like him.’
Ian and Greg seemed to have hit it off quite well, and knowing that her brother sometimes found his long leaves hanging heavily on his hands now that his old friends had left the Cotswolds, Storm welcomed the chance meeting.
Mr Harmer couldn’t have been more charming, keeping her well entertained while Greg and Ian exchanged university reminiscences. There was only a year between them, and Greg questioned Ian eagerly about his experiences abroad.
Listening to her brother, Storm felt a small glow of pride. The responsibilities his job entailed had given him an air of authority, and trying to observe him through a stranger’s eyes she could see that he was a man who commanded respect and attention.
‘Look,’ Greg said a little awkwardly as they got up to leave, ‘don’t think I’m being pushy, but how about making up a foursome one evening? My sister Julia is a schoolteacher, but she’s between jobs at the moment. She’s got the wanderlust bug like you,’ he said to Ian with a grin. ‘She was working in Spain for a while teaching English, and now she’s been offered a job in Saudi Arabia doing some private tuition. She would have been with us today, but she only got back late last night, so we left her in bed.’
‘I’m sure Ian doesn’t want to have Julia foisted off on him,’ Mr Harmer started to protest, but Ian laughed, and accepted the invitation, after a querying smile at Storm.
It was arranged that David would pick them up the following evening, and as they drove home Ian told Storm that he was quite looking forward to it.
‘Greg Harmer quite fancies you,’ he told her with a sideways glance, and Storm responded with a brief smile. She knew quite well that with the slightest encouragement Greg would step into the empty space left by David, but she had learned her lesson now, and knew that it was pointless to get involved in another tepid relationship—pointless and unfair to Greg.
Storm had several days’ holiday due to her, and when Ian said that he had a month’s leave she decided that she might as well take them and spend as much time with him as she could.
There was no sign of Jago when she went to work on Monday morning. Ian drove her so that he could have the use of Mr Templeton’s car during the day, and after reminding her of their date that evening, told her that he intended to have a lazy day getting accustomed to the cold English climate.
‘I thought your parents were away,’ Pete commented when Storm walked into the reception office. His sharp eyes didn’t miss much, she reflected, shrugging off her coat.
‘Ian’s home,’ she told him. ‘He brought me to work. Any progress with the foster-parent appeal?’
Accepting the change of subject, Pete gestured enthusiastically to the large pile of mail on the desk.
‘An even better response than I’d expected. I’m going over to the home this morning to chat to some of the kids, see how they’ll come over on interview. Want to come with me?’
Mary Simmonds greeted them enthusiastically, offering them coffee and biscuits as they sat down in her shabby study.
‘I can’t tell you how delighted we are with what you’re doing. We’ve already placed several of the smaller children,’ she explained to Storm. ‘Not on a permanent basis, of course. These things can’t be rushed. But several couples have come forward offering to act as “aunts and uncles”. Most of them have grown-up children of their own and are aware of the hazards and pitfalls.’
‘And the children?’ Storm asked.
‘Oh, they’re loving it. We’re being very careful not to let them get too excited before anything actually happens, but it’s going to make such a difference in their lives, even if it’s only the odd outing and visit. To children like these just to have someone pay them individual attention means so very, very much.’
‘The older kids are going to be more of a problem,’ Pete said frankly. ‘Teenagers are difficult at the best of times.’
‘You’re quite right,’ Mary Simmonds sighed. ‘And these children more than most are suffering from such a sense of rejection that it makes them automatically withdraw into themselves; sometimes even deliberately scorning the thing they want most. You see, they’ve been without individual love and attention for so long that they’ve convinced themselves that they don’t really want it. I was wondering if Mr Marsh might come and talk to some of them,’ she said quietly to Storm. ‘His success might encourage them and provide the spur we need.’
Not sure if Pete was aware of Jago’s background, Storm said hurriedly that she was having a few days’ holiday but that Pete would mention the matter to him.
When the cups had been cleared away, several gangly teenagers were brought into the room, and introduced to them. They were awkward, and inclined to eye them warily, and Storm’s heart went out to them. Pete had exactly the right touch, she acknowledged, listening to him drawing them out as he asked about their interests. ‘How about coming on my show?’ he asked when they had eventually relaxed.
‘So that everyone can feel sorry for us?’ one tall, thin boy muttered suspiciously. He was about fifteen with a shock of brown hair and wary, defensive eyes, and Storm found herself holding her breath as she waited to see how Pete would handle him.
‘Do you think they ought to?’ Pete asked casually. ‘I reckon most teenagers would envy you, eh, Storm? No parents moaning about loud music and untidy bedrooms.’ When the laughter had died down Pete said seriously, ‘Look, no one wants to force any of you into something you don’t want. How you feel about becoming a member of a family is something personal and very private—no one denies that. But wanting to be part of a family is nothing to be ashamed of, you know. And it isn’t all one-sided. There’s lots of folk out there whose kids have left home, or perhaps who never had any, who would give their right arm for the chance of fostering…’
‘Yeah, as long as it’s a kid under five,’ another of the boys jeered resentfully. ‘When it comes to us, no one wants to know.’
‘That’s where I think you’re wrong,’ Pete said quietly. ‘But the choice is yours and I don’t want you to make it right now. Think about i
t, and then next week I’ll be along to talk to you again. Even if you don’t want to be on my show, you can still come and have a look round the studios. The invitation doesn’t come from me, it’s from Mr Marsh,’ he told them as he stood up. ‘So think about it, okay?’
‘I think you managed to get through to them,’ Mary Simmonds announced when the children had gone.
Pete looked embarrassed. ‘Oh, Jago suggested that might be the best way to approach them. He seems to have a pretty good idea how their minds work.’
