Chapter 34

The really important developments seemed to happen when I was in the kitchen. While I was in the middle of preparations for a chicken chasseur on Tuesday 12 March, Nicky phoned from David Rendel’s Office.

‘We’ve been on the phone to the Home Office and they’ve told us that you’ll hear from them in a few days. They’ve been given indefinite leave to remain.’ Just like that.

After the best part of a year, without preamble, the uncertainty was over.

‘You might have told me to sit down first.’ was my instant reaction. My second was to let a tear trickle. My third was to put a bottle of champagne in the fridge. Claire and the babies were out with the triplet buggy, due back any moment. I was dying to share this moment with them.

'We've got it!' So convinced was I that the essential uncertainty of the babies' continuing stay in the UK must be uppermost in everyone's mind, that I assumed no need to clarify what it was we had got. 'Leave to Remain. They can stay!'

I picked them up and whirled them round. They must have wondered what had come over their Daddy. We clinked glasses. The first battle had been won. They could stay. I had never doubted it, but now it was Citizenship that I had set my sights on.

I decided I would tell no one else until I had given the Citizenship Branch of the Home Office the chance to refuse, grant or, at least, acknowledge. I wrote that day to tell them that the boys had been given indefinite leave to remain and ask again for Citizenship. Surely, they had no option. If the 99.99% is sufficient proof for settlement, it must be sufficient for Citizenship. For the first time I felt the ground become solid.

In May, I was in a shop when my mobile rang. It was David Rendel’s secretary telling me the Home Office had granted Citizenship.

I savoured victory for a few moments. My little ones were now as British as could be. More cuddles and kisses. Another bottle of Moet went into the fridge and an application for passports into the postbox. These arrived almost by return.

In my heart of hearts, I had known this must happen, known that common sense would prevail, known that this was a precedent that needed to be set. No battles; no doubt. I was now officially a Daddy. These little ones were mine. Really mine. The nagging thought that bureaucracy could somewhow take them away could be abandoned.

But I remained a carer for my father. That aspect of our lives—almost unremarked on by the press for its mundanity, but of huge import to my family—continued without remission.