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and preferring to have her own way, Anastasia kept trying to climb over the side of the bath and eventually slipped and bumped her head. Not a bad knock but enough to make her cry out, mutter something – that could have been a curse – and give the bath a good kick.

      ‘Shall I make up that Pot Noodle or whatever it is?’ Ian called from the bedroom. ‘She may be hungry now.’

      ‘Yes, please,’ Elaine returned. The instructions on the side of the pot were diagrammatic, and simply involved pouring boiling water onto the contents of the pot and letting it stand for two minutes to hydrate. There was a kettle in the room for making tea and coffee.

      Having heard Ian’s voice, and sensing something was going on that needed her attention, Anastasia ran from the bathroom. Elaine then had to keep her away from the boiling kettle, which she wanted to touch. As they waited for the mixture to hydrate and then cool a little, Ian looked up the main ingredients listed on the pot in their phrase book. ‘Mutton,’ he translated. ‘Flour, noodles, cabbage, onion, pepper …’ and so on.

      Once the food was ready, Ian tested it. ‘Interesting,’ he said, unsure.

      Anastasia was also interested in what was in the pot as the aroma rose and spread around the room. Elaine guided her to the chair, spread a tissue on her lap and gave her the pot and spoon, but stayed close by to help her or mop up the mess. Anastasia peered in, stirred the mixture, jiggled the spoon up and down but didn’t eat. ‘Hmm, yummy. Eat it,’ Elaine encouraged, smacking her lips.

      Anastasia played with the food some more but didn’t try to eat it. ‘You must be hungry by now,’ Elaine said. ‘You’ve had nothing all day.’ Taking the spoon, she ate a little herself in the hope Anastasia would copy, but she just pushed the pot away. Elaine tried again without success. It appeared that when Anastasia set her mind to something she was resolute.

      ‘Perhaps we could try room service again?’ Ian suggested when it was clear Anastasia wasn’t going to eat the food in the pot. ‘We’ll have to order for us before long.’

      ‘But what?’ Elaine asked. ‘She hardly ate anything of what we ordered last time.’

      ‘I could ask someone in the kitchen for advice,’ he said. ‘Surely they will know what children here like to eat.’ He went to the phone by the bed and pressed the key for room service. ‘Speak English?’ he asked when it was answered.

      ‘A little.’

      ‘What do children living here like to eat?’

      ‘You want to eat?’

      ‘Yes, but I need to know what a child living in this country likes to eat.’

      ‘The room service menu is in your room by the phone,’ came the reply.

      ‘I know. Thank you. What do I order for a child?’

      ‘You would like to order now?’ So it appeared his English was very limited.

      ‘We’ll order later. Thank you,’ Ian said, and ended the call.

      Elaine looked at him.

      ‘I have another idea,’ he said. ‘At least one of the girls at the reception desk speaks good English. I’ll take Anastasia down and ask her to find out what she likes to eat. Failing that, if she doesn’t eat tomorrow we’ll have to phone Dr Ciobanu for advice.’

      ‘What if Anastasia throws a tantrum and starts screaming when you try to bring her back?’ Elaine asked, worried.

      ‘I’ll carry her.’

      ‘I’ll come with you to help,’ she said.

      ‘No. You stay here and have a rest. We won’t be long.’

      ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘Yes.’

      Elaine smiled gratefully. A few minutes to herself would be very welcome right now. She took one of Anastasia’s cardigans from her case as it was cooler in reception and helped her into it. ‘See you soon. Be good,’ she said, and kissed her cheek. Anastasia stared at her, uncomprehending.

      Once they’d gone, Elaine had a quick tidy up – the room was in a mess – and then lay on the bed and tried to relax. Her eyes felt heavy and her forehead tight as if she had the beginning of a headache. Little wonder with everything they’d been through in the last twenty-four hours, and she reminded herself what a momentous, life-changing day it had been. They had woken as a childless couple, attended court, which had been emotionally exhausting in itself, and now they were parents, and Ian was out with their daughter. It didn’t get more significant than that!

      Ian was gone for over half an hour and Elaine was on the verge of going to find them when she heard thumping on the door – Anastasia – and then Ian inserting his key card into the lock. Anastasia rushed into the room, clearly very excited. Ian was smiling too. ‘That girl on reception was so helpful,’ he said. ‘She was about to finish her shift but when I explained our problem she stayed and had a good chat with Anastasia. Then she helped me order from room service. I’ve ordered for us too. It should be here in about twenty minutes.’

      ‘Fantastic,’ Elaine said. She picked up Anastasia’s cardigan, which she’d thrown on the floor. ‘What else did she talk to her about? You were gone ages.’

      ‘She told Anastasia we were nice people and she was lucky to have a mummy and daddy to look after her. I asked her to explain that we would be staying in the hotel for a week and then flying home, and I showed her the photos of where we lived on my phone. She also told me about a park not far from here. I thought we could try it tomorrow, although obviously it’s cold so we wouldn’t stay long.’

      ‘Great. And Anastasia didn’t scream when you tried to bring her up to the room?’

      ‘No. She was fine. So hopefully she understands more now and will settle.’

      ‘Wonderful. Thank you.’ Buoyed up and feeling more positive, Elaine took out the crayons and colouring book she’d brought with them to keep Anastasia amused until their dinner arrived.

      What she didn’t know until months later, when Anastasia had learned sufficient English to tell her, was that she’d repeatedly told the receptionist she didn’t want to stay with Mummy and Daddy, but to go back to the orphanage.

      Despite ordering what Anastasia had told the receptionist she wanted, when the food arrived she ate very little. Ian said again that if it didn’t change tomorrow they’d have to phone Dr Ciobanu for advice. He and Elaine ate and then it was time for Anastasia to go to bed. Elaine helped her change into her pyjamas without too much fuss, explaining what she was doing and why, although Anastasia didn’t understand. Then she took her to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Anastasia seemed to know how to brush her teeth but didn’t like the toothpaste, although it was one sold in England for toddlers. She pulled a face and spat it on the floor. Elaine tried her with their adult toothpaste but she didn’t like that either. Perhaps she’d never used toothpaste before, but at least she had brushed her teeth, which was important.

      Elaine and Ian knew it wasn’t ideal all sleeping in one room, but there wasn’t an alternative, and it was only for a week and then they’d be home and Anastasia would have her own room. Elaine also knew that establishing a good bedtime routine was important, so she read Anastasia a story, persuaded her into the foldaway bed, which was close to theirs, then they both kissed her goodnight and Ian dimmed the lights. As they were all in the same room Ian and Elaine lay on their bed and pretended to be asleep, with the intention that once Anastasia was in a deep sleep they could read for a while. But Anastasia had different ideas. She was in a strange room where everything was new and interesting. She certainly wasn’t ready to sleep. And unlike at the orphanage where the bars on her cot had kept her in, as well as a good telling-off if she tried to climb out, there were no bars on her bed and she was able to slip out easily. She ran around the room, not upset but more hyperactive, opening and closing drawers, picking up anything she could reach and

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