Another Forgotten Child (21 page)

‘I know. I’ll get back to you.’

As I put the phone down I wondered why no one had asked me for my evidence and also if Aimee would have given a better – clearer – interview if I’d been present. Although I appreciated DC Nicki Davies was trained in child interview techniques, perhaps having me in the room, or waiting outside the room, might have given Aimee that extra confidence to detail Craig’s abuse coherently. Children often find situations intimidating that adults would have little problem with.

When the landline rang an hour later I was expecting Jill but was surprised to hear a female say: ‘This is DC Nicki Davies. Is that Cathy Glass?’

‘Yes. Hello.’

‘I’ve just had a phone call from the social services about the allegations Aimee made against Craig. You’re Aimee’s foster carer?’

‘Yes.’

‘I was sent a copy of your notes in respect of what Aimee told you about Craig and I read them carefully. Our problem is that Aimee couldn’t substantiate in the interview what she’d told you. We tried for over an hour, but she was very confused. We can’t make a case strong enough to take to court if Aimee won’t give evidence and repeat what she told you. Also Aimee’s made similar allegations before about her father, so her evidence can’t be considered reliable.’

‘Perhaps her father abused her as well?’ I suggested, not understanding the logic.

‘It’s possible, but again we don’t have the evidence to take it to court. Although Aimee is eight, she’s well behind in her language development, so it’s very difficult to interview her. I’m sorry, but unless new evidence comes to light, in respect of Craig or her father, I’m afraid we can’t proceed.’

‘I understand,’ I said, disappointed but having to accept the police’s decision.

‘Will Aimee be visiting her father in prison?’ DC Vicki Davies now asked.

‘I didn’t even know he was in prison,’ I said. ‘How long has he been in there?’

‘A couple of months, I think.’

‘What’s he been convicted for, or can’t you tell me?’

‘I can tell you. It’s not a secret. He received a custodial sentence for possession of class A drugs with intent to supply, and resisting arrest. He got five years.’

‘I see. Well, hopefully the social services won’t decide Aimee needs to see him. I once had to take a child to visit a parent in prison and it was an awful experience for everyone.’

‘I shouldn’t think they will,’ DC Nicki Davies said. ‘Aimee doesn’t have much of a relationship with him, and as I said, she’s accused him of abuse before. I really don’t understand why Aimee wasn’t removed from home sooner. The older children were, years ago. I’ve been involved with that family since I first started working in child protection, over ten years ago, and it was obvious back then that it was never going to get any better in that home. Aimee should have been removed at birth.’

‘That’s what everyone says,’ I agreed.

DC Nicki Davies thanked me for my time and promised to let me know if there were any new developments in the case against Craig; then she wound up the conversation and we said goodbye. While Nicki Davies was clearly a pleasant lady who I assumed was good at her job, the fact remained that Craig would not be prosecuted for assaulting Aimee, and neither would her father, if he too had abused her. I telephoned Jill and told her what I’d just learnt, and we agreed that unless Aimee specifically asked about Craig I wouldn’t tell her he wasn’t going to be prosecuted, and neither would I tell her that her father was in prison.

Chapter Eighteen

Flashback

Aimee had a dental appointment for a check-up that afternoon straight from school and I wasn’t expecting good news. I’d seen inside Aimee’s mouth when I helped her brush her teeth and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

The check-up didn’t get off to the best start as Aimee bit the dentist – hard.

‘Ouch! That hurt!’ Mike, the dentist, exclaimed, glaring at me as if I was to blame.

‘Sorry,’ I said, moving a little closer to the chair. ‘Aimee, please try to keep your mouth open.’ The dental nurse had asked me to stand at the foot of the examining chair and although I couldn’t see what Mike the dentist could, his expression as he examined Aimee’s mouth confirmed my worst fears.

‘I’m sure she did it on purpose,’ Mike said, still smarting over the bite, and now examining the tip of his index finger rather than Aimee’s mouth.

‘It was an accident,’ I confirmed. ‘Aimee’s not used to visiting the dentist.’

‘No. I can see that,’ he said a little unkindly, and exchanged a meaningful glance with his nurse.

Satisfied that the tip of his finger wasn’t severed, or even bleeding, Mike returned – with some trepidation – to the inner caverns of Aimee’s mouth. This time he sensibly used the metal probe and kept his fingers well away from her teeth, while Aimee, bless her, now concentrated so hard on keeping her mouth wide open that her face contorted into a gargoyle-like grimace, which made her look rather odd and a little frightening.

‘Try and relax,’ the nurse suggested.

‘Good girl,’ I encouraged.

I already knew Aimee’s mouth wasn’t the best Mike had seen in his dental career and his findings, which he now read out to his nurse, confirmed this. Mike looked about seventeen but clearly had to be in his late twenties to be a qualified dentist. He was well tanned and had a strong Australian accent, and was a temporary replacement for our usual dentist, who was on maternity leave. The word ‘cavity’ featured often in Mike’s dialogue with his nurse as he went round Aimee’s mouth with his probe. And it didn’t take great insight to know that meant a lot of decay and therefore fillings. ‘Thirteen has a cavity, fourteen has cavity …’ he continued. ‘And finally the last one, twenty, has a deep cavity too,’ he said.

The examination complete, Mike sat back in his swivel dentist’s chair, sighed and glared at me. ‘The child’s diet has been appalling. Does she eat a lot of sweets and biscuits?’

‘She did but I’m changing that.’

‘Does she ever brush her teeth?’ he asked.

‘She didn’t, but she does now. I make sure of it.’

He sighed again. ‘Her teeth are in a dreadful state for a child of her age – the worst I’ve ever seen. Every tooth needs filling but that would be far too traumatic, so unless they cause her pain I shall leave the primary teeth untreated – they’ll come out soon. But I do need to fill the two second teeth, as otherwise she’ll lose those. You really must make big changes to her diet and make sure she brushes her teeth properly. The nurse will give you a leaflet on dental hygiene before you leave.’

It was then I realized that Mike might be thinking Aimee was my child and I was responsible for the appalling state of her teeth. I’d written ‘foster carer’ on the form when I’d registered Aimee, and had filled in what I knew of her medical history, but it was quite possible he hadn’t read the form and, not knowing me personally, didn’t realize.

‘Aimee is a looked-after child,’ I said. ‘I am her foster carer and she has only been with me a month.’

‘Oh,’ he said.

‘She’s on a good diet now, and I always make sure she brushes her teeth, but the damage has already been done.’

‘Oh, I see,’ he said again, now reassured that I knew how to look after a child’s teeth. ‘Well, that’s nice of you – to foster. Come up here and I’ll show you what I mean.’

I moved carefully around the instrument panel and up to the top end of the couch where Aimee’s head rested. I stood next to where Mike sat, his previous hostile attitude now replaced by something approaching admiration. Using his probe he went round Aimee’s teeth, pointing out the cavities. I knew from helping her brush her teeth they were in a bad way but now with her mouth wide open I could see the full extent of the damage. Some teeth were missing and nearly all of those that remained had some decay in them; the back teeth were brown and crumbling. How any mother could let her child’s teeth get into that state I’d no idea. NHS dental treatment is free for children in the UK.

‘It’s a form of child abuse,’ Mike said, voicing my thoughts. ‘Just as well she came to you when she did or she’d have lost her second teeth as well.’

‘Like me mum and dad,’ Aimee put in, her mouth closing awkwardly around the probe.

‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘And you don’t want false teeth, do you? So we need to make sure you brush your teeth well.’

Aimee nodded.

Mike finished by pointing out Aimee’s two second teeth, both of which already had small cavities in them and which he would fill. He then reinforced to Aimee that she must look after her second teeth, as they had to last a lifetime. He raised the dentist’s chair and praised Aimee for being a good girl and the nurse gave Aimee a sticker in the shape of a large gleaming white molar with a smiling face.

‘I’ll give her teeth a polish when she comes for her fillings,’ Mike said to me as Aimee climbed out of the chair.

‘I’ll need to have the consent form signed by her social worker,’ I said. ‘As her foster carer I can’t give permission for the treatment. I’ll make the appointment as soon as I have the form signed.’

‘As soon as possible, please,’ Mike said. ‘And Aimee, you make sure you don’t eat too many sweet things, and brush those teeth well. All right?’

‘I will,’ Aimee said. ‘Cathy makes me.’

‘Well done, Cathy,’ Mike said, and I wished Susan had been present to hear this.

We said goodbye and on the way out I collected the consent form I needed for her treatment from the reception desk. Once outside I took the opportunity to reinforce again to Aimee just how important it was to brush her teeth and not to eat too many sugary foods.

‘I hope you now understand why I don’t let you eat lots of biscuits and sweets,’ I said. ‘And why I make you brush your teeth.’

Aimee, subdued by the prospect of having fillings, gave a small nod, and then said, ‘I think my mum should have done the same.’

‘Yes,’ I agreed quietly. I hoped Aimee was starting to appreciate that the guidance I gave her was for her benefit. ‘And Aimee,’ I said lightly, with a small smile, ‘the next time we see the dentist, please try not to bite him. He’s only doing his job and you hurt him.’

‘But I don’t like having things shoved in me mouth,’ she said. ‘That’s why I bit him.’

‘I know it’s not very pleasant but it doesn’t last for long.’

‘I didn’t like it at me mum’s either,’ she added, frowning.

‘But you didn’t go to the dentist while you were living with your mother, did you? That was some of the problem.’

‘No. I mean I didn’t like having things shoved in me mouth at me mum’s.’

‘What sort of things?’ I asked naively.

‘You know,’ Aimee said, elbowing me conspiratorially in the side. ‘Man’s things.’

I looked at her carefully and hoped I’d misheard. ‘No, I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Can you explain?’

‘Man’s thingies!’ she said louder, frustrated by my ignorance. ‘You know, dinglies.’ And she pointed to her crotch.

I hadn’t misheard. There was no doubt. It was a cold winter’s day but that wasn’t the reason I shivered. I slowed my pace. Aimee, walking in step beside me, slowed too. ‘Aimee, love, I need you to explain exactly what you mean so I can tell your social worker.’

Aimee gave a little sigh at my apparent lack of understanding but didn’t appear outwardly distressed by what she’d just divulged. ‘When the dentist put his fingers in my mouth,’ she began, ‘it made me think of when I was at me mum’s. It felt like when the man put his thingy in my mouth. That’s why I bit him.’

Reeling from the new disclosures, I was silent for a moment. I wasn’t sure if I should question Aimee and try to find out more about the abuse or leave it to the child protection police officer, for it would certainly be a police matter. But what I was sure of was that before I reported what appeared to be gross sexual abuse, I needed to clarify what I was reporting. ‘Aimee,’ I said carefully. ‘Are you telling me that while you were at your mother’s a man put his penis – his willy – in your mouth?’

‘Yes. His thingy,’ she said. ‘Like they do in the films.’

‘What films?’ I asked, wondering if this was something Aimee had seen in an adult DVD.

‘The film I watched with the man,’ Aimee said. ‘He showed me a video of a man putting his thingy in a girl’s mouth. He said it was a game kids played with him and I had to do it. He said other kids liked his game but I didn’t, so I bit him like I did the dentist.’ Which sounded like the classic paedophile using pornographic material to groom the child he was about to sexually abuse.

‘What happened after you bit him?’ I asked, looking at Aimee, as we continued walking along the pavement in the direction of the car.

‘He shouted I was a fucking bitch, and then slapped my face. I screamed and Mum woke up. He took his video and left.’

‘Did you tell your mum what had happened?’

‘Yeah, but she didn’t believe me.’

‘Do you know the man’s name?’ I asked.

‘No, he was just one of mum’s friends,’ Aimee said matter-of-factly. ‘I think he gave her Big H sometimes.’

‘I understand,’ I said, apparently more shaken by what Aimee had described than she was. ‘Well done for telling me. You did right. Aimee, it was very wrong of that man to try and make you do that. It wasn’t a game, it was abuse. I’m going to contact Nicki Davies. You remember her?’ Aimee gave a small nod. ‘I shall tell her what you’ve told me and she’ll probably want to speak to you again. All right, love?’

‘I guess so, but I ain’t telling her what I told you.’

‘You must,’ I said. ‘It’s important. I can tell her but she will want to hear it from you too.’

‘No,’ Aimee said adamantly. ‘I’ll get into trouble.’

‘With who?’

‘That man I told you about.’

‘No you won’t. You’re safe with me. You won’t ever have to see him again.’

‘Already have,’ Aimee said smartly.

‘When?’

‘When we were shopping last week, we passed him in the street. He was with a woman and he winked at me. He’s still around and I ain’t telling, so you best forget what I told you.’

I stopped and drew Aimee to one side. ‘Aimee,’ I said, bending a little towards her to make eye contact. ‘I can’t just forget what you’ve told me – not as a mother or a foster carer. What the man did was very wrong and the police have to know so they can stop him doing it again.’