The following day, I took Emma to the hairdresser's (thankfully they asked no questions, although I did see a few raised eyebrows, and Emma looked cute with her hair cut into a layered bob with a fringe). Deciding to take immediate action, as soon as we arrived back home, I sent Luke into the garden to play with Barney and summoned the rest of the family into the living room. It may have only been a one-off incident, but for Simon and me it was our job to instil our expectations into Emma as early on as possible. I didn't want another "mishap" to occur.
"Do you know why we've brought you in here?" Simon began.
She nodded, hanging her head in what appeared to be in shame. As we considered what to say next, I noticed tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. Biting down on the corner of her lip, she was trying hard not to cry.
"We're not angry with you, Emma," I reassured her, although I wasn't quite sure that was one hundred percent truthful. "We just want to know why you cut your hair."
There was a short pause before she said "I don't know."
"You must have had some reason," Simon urged her.
"No."
"Look, Emma, whatever your reason was - no matter how silly - you can tell us," I added. "You're a part of this family now."
I thought back to the way she had looked when I found her behind the bedroom curtains. The look of fear fixed upon her face had kept me awake that night, feeling somehow I had failed her. Something was bugging me. Something was not right.
"There is a reason..." Simon and I turned to face Emma, listening intently.
"Yes?" Any answer was better than none.
"I can't tell you." Well, that was great.
"Okay." Pushing her into saying something uncomfortable was not going to achieve anything. She would probably tell us in her own time anyway.
Parenting had practically been plain sailing with Luke. Obviously, I knew it was going to be a completely different ball game with an adopted child, but I hadn't expected things to kick off quite so early on.
"Why don't you go play with Luke and Barney?" Simon suggested to Emma. She hopped off the settee and raced into the garden.
* * *
Emma settled into our household quickly. Just two weeks after her first day with us, I was beginning to find imagining a life without her fairly difficult. As if an unnoticed gap in our household had been filled, it felt like everything was as it should be. Luke discovered an excellent playmate in Emma and she told me one day "I love my new brother," bringing a smile to my face that lasted from morning until night. The "hair cutting incident", as we referred to it, became a thing of the past - something we never spoke of but was always there in the back of our minds. Emma never gave us a reason why she did it, but it didn't seem to matter as long as she was happy and it never happened again.
When we were a third of the way through the summer holidays, Amanda (the social worker) paid us a visit. Over tea and cakes, we discussed everything from the "hair cutting incident" to Luke's fast-approaching birthday, which was in a couple of weeks' time.
"Are you doing anything special?" she asked, wiping icing sugar from her lips with one hand.
Usually we went for a full-on garden party, with most of the kids from the neighbourhood invited; however, this year we were just having one of Luke's friends, Tyler, for the birthday celebration. We thought it would be easier for Emma.
"We're just staying at home," I said. "We've hired this 'pirate' bouncy castle for them to play on. Luke seems to be pleased with it all."
"They're easily pleased at that age," she replied. "Wait 'til they both reach their teens - they'll want you to splash out the cash at any opportunity. My Ella wants a 'make-up party' this year, which is gonna cost a fortune 'cause she wants a 'posh' meal out as well!"
"I suppose I'm lucky at the moment in that way," I laughed, watching as she poured herself some more tea.
She nodded vigorously. "Yeah, you've got so much fun awaiting you!"
It was nice to spend some time with another mum roughly my age - especially one who knew a lot about Emma. After communicating with only children and Simon for two weeks, I desperately needed a proper chat.
"How is Emma settling in?" Amanda asked. "Aside from the 'hair cutting incident'!"
"I think she's doing quite well."
Over the past two weeks, I had been putting in a lot of effort to spend one-on-one time with her, bringing up a variety of subjects including: school, past foster homes and parents, her favourite food (pizza) and nursery rhyme ('ring-a-ring-o-roses'). I felt that she was beginning to get to know me, as I was with her, and the two of us were developing a closeness which, although it was nothing like a mother-daughter bond, was a great start.
"That's nice to hear," Amanda replied after a moment. "I think she's going to really flourish in this family, you know. It's always great to hear a success story."
We laughed and gossiped for a while, before it was time for Amanda to leave. I fetched her coat, then stood by the door as she leaved, waving her off. The house felt oddly silent when she was gone.
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