There is a finding on the file about the coaching and there is a schedule attached to Garrick’s contact with both children, and I am not going to write about the detail of it because it is theirs.
Adrienne Kask is not with him. She went in the June.
Rosamund and I speak most weeks. That is the thing I did not expect out of any of this, and it took about four months before either of us could do it without it being strange.
She said something to me in the summer that I keep.
She said, “In 2020 there wasn’t a six-year-old who’d say the true thing out loud. That’s the only difference between us.”
June is seven. She is at ours two weekends in three now by agreement between her mother and me, which is not a thing any order requires and which we sorted out over a kitchen table.
She calls the baby her brother. Nobody taught her to.
You’re not her mother, Tamsin. Sit down and let the family do it.
Adrienne Kask said that in my own kitchen holding a cake I had made, in front of twenty-five people, and somebody laughed and everybody sang.
She was right. I am not that child’s mother and I have never once pretended to be.
And four months later, in a corridor, a six-year-old was given a script that would have finished me, and she stood by a water cooler and cried rather than say it.
Nobody in that kitchen stood up for me.
