FEELING WANTED

7. At the age of 44, childless and single after the death of her long- term partner, Sarah had given up hope of being a mother. But tomorrow, the part-time teacher from south London will meet Louise — the one- year-old child she is about to adopt.

Sarah has been encouraged to adopt as part of a pioneering drive by Southwark council. The authority's campaign aims to raise adoption and fostering rates by targeting those who assume - wrongly - that they are unsuitable to adopt or foster.

Louise has been in foster care since her young, single mother gave her up for adoption at birth. Her right foot is slightly malformed and will need minor corrective surgery and physiotherapy over the next two years, but she is expected to develop into a healthy child. For her, adoption will give her the stable and permanent home she desperately needs. For Sarah, it will mean she is finally able to realise her desire to care for a child.

"I'd always wanted to have children, but it never happened," says Sarah. "After my partner died I wondered if there was something I could give and something that I wanted and didn't have. I looked into adoption, but thought I'd only be considered for very hard-to-place children. I was bowled over when I heard about Louise — I didn't think I would be a first-choice adopter."

Southwark launched its three-month campaign, entitled Never Thought I Could, at the end of March. The drive — the first actively to recruit people falling outside the stereotypical family unit — was a response to government plans for the biggest shake-up in adoption law in a quarter of a century. The Queen's Speech last week outlined details of the adoption and children bill, designed primarily to speed up the process and aiming to increase adoption rates by 40%.

Southwark's campaign included advertisements on billboards and buses emblazoned with messages such as: "Valued, wanted, needed - whether you're over or under 45, you could be eligible to adopt." The posters were tailored to appeal to couples or single people over 45, those who work full-time, or are unemployed, and gays and lesbians.

The Labour-run council says the response has been huge: the adoption and fostering team has received calls from 204 people wanting to adopt or foster long-term, and another 40 want to foster short-term. The majority of inquiries have been from those who would otherwise have ruled themselves out of being adoptive parents because of their sexuality or age. (The Guardian, by Saba Salman, June 27, 2001)

RUSSIA'S RICH HOUSEWIVES GET DESPERATE

8. THEY live in lavishly furnished mansions, spend thousands of pounds a month on clothes and are the envy of ordinary Muscovites. But the glamorous wives of the novi Russki, Russia's fabulously wealthy business elite, are haunted by a fear of losing their husbands.

A new book that provides startling insights into the lives of Moscow's rich claims that many of the city's most affluent women spend their time desperately trying to hold on to their millionaire spouses.

Paying expensive fortune-tellers to find out about their husbands' affairs and drowning their insecurities in alcohol are part of their everyday life, it seems. Some are reduced to seeking solace in the arms of male strippers and toy boys.

The book, Casual, was written by Oksana Robsky, a new Russian who has been married three times. She describes it as a semi-autobiographical novel, with many characters based on her friends and acquaintances.

The novel is set in Rublyovo-Uspenskoye Shosse, a long tree-lined road in the western outskirts of the capital. It is known as a "billionaires' reserve" and is home to members of both the business and political elites, chief among them President Vladimir Putin. More billionaires are said to live in the area than in New York city and during the rush hour the two-lane highway is jammed with luxurious cars tailed by armed bodyguards in four-wheel drives.

Casual is the story of a woman whose rich husband is gunned down. She hires a contract killer to murder the prime suspect, only to learn that he was innocent. Robsky's second husband was the victim of a contract killing, but she will not be drawn on whether her heroine's act of revenge is pure fiction.

Robsky's female characters lead largely frivolous lives of almost unimaginable opulence. Reflecting a real-life Russian trend, one of them has her poodle dyed to match the colour of her dress. They dine in Moscow's most expensive restaurants, drive the latest sports cars, undergo plastic surgery, take drugs and get drunk on vintage wines. (The Moscow Times, by Mark Franchetti, February 20, 2005)