Couple left with only bitterness

BITTERNESS, anger, resentment, and disgust; as any parent knows,these black feelings are the antithesis of family life.

For Judith Kilshaw, all these terrible emotions rose up yesterdaymorning as she attempted to talk away the dark hours which hadfollowed the removal of her adopted daughters.

Her pessimism appears to be justified. Yesterday, at last, sherecognised she had become "public enemy number one". Things were sobad, she said, she would probably have to leave the country.

Pity poor Mrs Kilshaw. But alone in some faraway place, she andher husband Alan may at least find the time to ask themselves howsuch things have come to pass. They might reflect that they hadparaded so openly the grubby deal - possibly in breach of Arkansasstate law - which secured their supposed rights to two children. Itis difficult to recall a family saga so willingly exposed to theharsh glare of television lights.

Even Mrs Kilshaw, with apparently the hide of an ox, must havesensed things were going awry when she flounced out of a televisioninterview earlier in the week.

The couple might also consider whether it was wise to quibbleabout the price they paid to A Caring Hearts adoption agency. Didthey really imagine the public would share their sense of outrage atevidence they had been overcharged?

Mr Kilshaw, with his clever solicitorial brain, will also come toregret he spoke of his new daughters as if they were goods purchasedfrom an on-line grocers. According to his version, buying the rightsto babies is like picking up a bottle mineral water - so much of thecost is tied up in the packaging and the salespeople.

To make matters worse for themselves, the couple appeared torevel in the battle with the enemies they imagined in theestablishment. Mr Kilshaw rounded on the Prime Minister, attackingTony Blair as if he were the devil incarnate. But then, for a man ofMr Kilshaw's ideals - he is an initiate to the inner sanctum of thelate Sir James Goldsmith's Democratic Party - Mr Blair is the devilincarnate.

The couple taunted their enemies too. They spoke of film rights,and you could almost hear the rustle of the greenbacks as Mr Kilshawrevealed his conversations with the Hollywood movie makers. "I toldthe studio bosses, 'Let's get it on!' I really want to see thismovie made."

If it ever is, Mr Kilshaw may find he is not cast as hero.

We know now the Kilshaws had acquired an unhelpful reputation foreccentricity around Buckley. There was that vexed question ofcleanliness and the noise and detritus created by the cats, dogs andgeese around their farm. Parties and loud music would often disturbtheir neighbours late into the night.

If all this was more or less in the privacy of their own home,the Kilshaws courted problems outside too. There was a bizarreincident at a wedding reception when antagonised by another guest,Mrs Kilshaw began to strip off her clothes.

Amid all this self-revelation, warm feelings for their adoptivechildren sometimes came through. However, there seemed littleapparent concern for the natural mother, Tranda Wecker, clearly nota wealthy nor a fortunate woman. Even now, Ms Wecker doesn't knowwhether she wants her children returned, but in her sadness,plaintively reveals a desire to find the best solution. And there isthe nub of the case for the Kilshaws to consider in their retreat;what is best for these children?

There is nothing inherently wrong with adoption agencies, noreven in using the internet to find children. But people, eveninfants, have rights, and those rights at such a defenceless agehave to be protected.

When in later life they have cause to reflect on their earlyyears the girls themselves may find themselves experiencing theemotions Mrs Kilshaw felt yesterday - bitterness, anger, resentment,and disgust at precious young lives treated as commodities.