In a turn of events that could only be scripted by a hack writer with a grudge against familial responsibility, a French mother and her gentleman caller have been hoisted into Portuguese custody for the cardinal sin of leaving their offspring to fend for themselves. The alleged villains: a woman whose maternal instincts appear to have been misplaced somewhere between the departure lounge and the duty-free, and her partner, a man whose concept of fatherhood seems limited to paying for the babysitter.
The abandoned children, two young lads of seven and nine, were reportedly found wandering the streets of a Portuguese holiday resort, their faces a picture of confusion and neglect. Meanwhile, mum and paramour were presumably enjoying a romantic getaway, blissfully unaware that the small print on their hotel booking did not include a clause for child abandonment.
Britain, a nation that takes its parental duties as seriously as its queueing etiquette, has reacted with predictable outrage. The Foreign Office, a department that usually reserves its moral indignation for more diplomatic faux pas, has issued a statement condemning the negligence. “We are deeply concerned,” said a spokesperson, who then promptly returned to looking up the correct spelling of “gendarmerie.”
The irony is not lost on this correspondent. A country that gave the world the nanny state, where you can be fined for not returning your supermarket trolley in a straight line, now tut-tuts at a mother who clearly took the concept of a “child-free holiday” a tad too literally.
One cannot help but wonder: at what point did the decision to abandon one’s children seem like a rational choice? Was it over a particularly potent pastis? The Portuguese authorities, presumably with their detective hats on, are now trying to ascertain the facts. I suspect the truth, as it always is with such stories, will be a messy concoction of poor parenting, permissive holiday culture, and an appalling lack of foresight.
The children, thankfully, are now in the care of Portuguese social services, which is a bit like being rescued from a sinking ship only to board a lifeboat with a hole in it. But hope springs eternal. Perhaps they will be adopted by a lovely British couple who will teach them the value of a good packed lunch and the importance of having a return ticket.
As for the mother and her paramour, they face the wrath of the Portuguese legal system, which is only slightly less terrifying than the British tabloid press. One can only imagine the headlines: “MAMMA MIA! FRENCH MOTHER ABANDONS KIDS FOR BOOZE AND SOMETHING WARM AND PORTUGUESE.”
In the end, this story is not about a single act of negligence, but a mirror held up to a society that simultaneously infantilises adults and demands perfection from parents. The real scandal is that we are all just a few bad decisions away from being the next headline.
But for now, let us raise a glass of something gin-spiked to the Portuguese police, to the British Foreign Office, and most of all, to those two little boys who will one day have a very interesting story to tell in therapy.
