I Miss Mummy (21 page)

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Authors: Cathy Glass

Tags: #General, #Personal Memoirs, #Political Science, #Biography & Autobiography, #Families, #Family & Relationships, #Family Relationships, #Public Policy, #Foster home care, #Abuse, #Foster mothers, #Child Abuse, #Adoption & Fostering, #Social Services & Welfare, #Foster children

BOOK: I Miss Mummy
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Chapter Thirty-Seven
Ten Days


W
e’re going to reduce Alice’s contact with her father and Sharon,’ Kitty said. ‘I had a meeting with the Guardian a week before Christmas and we have decided it’s appropriate now.’

‘I see,’ I said, taken aback. It was Tuesday and I had just returned from taking Alice to school – it was the first day of the new term. I was in the hall with my coat still on. ‘Will she have contact with her father as usual tonight?’

‘No. From now on she will see her father for an hour every two weeks on a Thursday. Alice had contact with him last week, so there will be none this week. Contact with her mother will remain unchanged – every Monday. Contact with the grandparents will be increased from fortnightly to weekly – every Wednesday.’

‘I see,’ I said again, aware these changes were highly significant and hadn’t been made lightly, but without knowing the reason behind them. ‘Alice will be very pleased she is seeing her nana and grandpa more often,’ I said.

‘Yes. Cathy, as you know the Guardian and I have had doubts about the care plan for a while now. But the social services couldn’t simply take the decision to alter it and reduce contact with Alice’s father without very good reason. Now the Guardian has raised concerns we have a better chance of altering it. I have rewritten the care plan, reduced contact in line with it, and am taking Alice’s case back to court next week.’

‘So that Alice can be adopted?’ I asked, which seemed the most likely explanation for the reduction in contact with her father, but didn’t explain the increase in contact with her grandparents.

‘No. Not for adoption at this stage.’ Kitty paused, and as I waited my heart set up a queer little rhythm in expectation of what I might hear. ‘If the judge agrees,’ Kitty continued, ‘we are hoping to return Alice to live with her grandparents temporarily.’

‘Oh! Returned? Temporarily. When?’

‘Probably within the month – after a period of transition.’

‘Oh,’ I said again, trying to sort out my thoughts.

‘If the judge agrees to the new care plan, we will return Alice to live with her grandparents to allow Leah time to complete her recovery. If Leah doesn’t recover fully within a year then we will place Alice for adoption. Alice will remain on a care order while she is with her grandparents and we will monitor the situation carefully. Leah will continue to have supervised contact with Alice at the family centre and she knows she must keep to the arrangement and not try to see Alice at the grandparents’. I am meeting Mr and Mrs
Jones, and Leah and her partner Mike, tomorrow morning to make sure they understand these contact arrangements, so there can be no misunderstanding as there appears to have been last time, which led to Alice coming into care. Obviously don’t say anything to Alice until it is definite. I’m in court a week on Thursday, so we should have a decision then.’

I was quiet for a moment as all manner of thoughts and feelings flashed through my mind. The good news was that Alice could be returning to live with her grandparents, where she belonged; the bad news was she might be removed again if Leah didn’t make a full recovery within the year. ‘Kitty, can I ask why you have taken this decision now?’

Kitty paused before answering. ‘I have read all the case notes in depth and my feeling is that a different social worker might have made a different decision and not brought Alice into care, but continued to monitor the situation instead. Although Mr and Mrs Jones are considered too old to give Alice long-term care, they are more than capable of giving Alice short-term care. Having said that, there were concerns that Mrs Jones was allowing Leah unsupervised contact with Alice. I think she now has a better understanding of why we make the decisions we do. Also, more evidence has come to light in respect of Chris – his violence and past record – and to be honest his and Sharon’s marriage is very shaky. Sharon has phoned me a number of times and said she’s seriously considering leaving Chris.’

‘And Chris and Sharon are aware of the changes you are asking for?’

‘Yes, although their barrister has advised them they still have a good chance of Alice going to live with them. He will be in court next Thursday to challenge our decision.’

‘So Alice could still go to them?’

‘It’s possible.’

‘And Mr and Mrs Jones understand this – that nothing is definite?’

‘I hope so. I have explained the process to them in depth, although Mrs Jones is sure the judge will “see sense”, as she puts it, and return Alice to them. I have warned her. I have also warned Leah that nothing is definite, and also that she mustn’t say anything to Alice at contact on Monday.’

‘Thanks, Kitty. It would be dreadful if Alice had her hopes built up only to have them dashed. And thanks for all you have done for Alice. You have been so thorough. I just hope the judge makes the right decision.’

‘So do I,’ Kitty said flatly. ‘So do I.’

I replaced the handset and finally took off my coat and hung it in the cupboard under the stairs. Deep in thought, I walked slowly down the hall and into the sitting room, where I sat on the sofa by the French windows and gazed out on to the wintery garden. Only a few nests of lilac crocuses suggested there was life in the barren soil, and the overhanging leafless branches were a stark reminder spring was still a long way off. It has been said that social workers are damned if they do and damned if they don’t, and this was certainly true of Alice’s case. When Kitty went to court next week if the judge decided to return Alice to live with her
grandparents then presumably the decision to take Alice into care in the first place had been wrong. But conversely if Alice hadn’t been taken into care and something had happened to her, the finger of blame would have pointed directly at the social services. Alice was known to the social services, and was being visited by a social worker, who would have been castigated for not having seen the warning signs and acting sooner.

Yet while I sympathized with the difficult decisions social workers have to make on a daily basis, I was troubled by the often frequent changes of social workers – as in Alice’s case – which meant there was little continuity. Had one social worker been involved right from the beginning, he or she would have been able get to know Alice’s family and would have been in a better position to judge the situation and whether or not Alice was at risk. I had seen so many cases where, for reasons I’d never understood, multiple social workers had been involved. Alice had had four social workers in three months and perhaps that had contributed to the ‘quick fix’ solution of deciding to send Alice to live with her father. Kitty had taken time to investigate and research Alice’s case, and as a result had drawn up a new care plan that the judge would, I hoped, approve. But even if the right decision was now made and Alice was returned to her grandparents, it was temporary and dependent on Leah’s full recovery within a year. Once again I worried for Alice’s future and the emotional damage Alice had suffered as a result of being separated from her loved ones.

There were ten days until the Thursday, when Kitty would be in court, but it seemed more like ten years, so slowly did the time pass. When I saw Alice’s grandparents at contact on Wednesday Mrs Jones handed me another jar of her home-made chutney ‘Just in case it’s needed,’ Mrs Jones said bravely, meaning she hoped Alice would be with her by the time our present jar was empty.

‘It would be nice if I was eating this one alone,’ I smiled, and Mrs Jones nodded.

Leah also put on a very brave face when I saw her at contact the following Monday. Indeed, she seemed to be coping very well with the additional pressure of knowing Kitty was going back to court and that so much rested on the judge’s decision. The only outward sign of her anxiety was a certain nervous restlessness and biting her fingernails, which I hadn’t seen her do before, and she quietly admitted to me she couldn’t settle to anything at home.

In line with the new care plan there was no contact with Alice’s father on Tuesday. When I took Alice to the family centre to see her grandparents on Wednesday, it was the eve of the court hearing, and only Mr Jones was present. ‘Nana isn’t feeling too well,’ Mr Jones explained to Alice and me. ‘She’s having a lie-down so she’ll be well in the morning.’ I understood the reference to the morning but obviously Alice, unaware of the impending court case, didn’t. I could imagine the dreadful stress the care proceedings were causing Alice’s grandparents; little wonder Mrs Jones was ill. I asked Mr Jones to pass on my best wishes for a speedy recovery and Alice sent her love.

On Thursday morning I took Alice to school as usual, stopped off at the supermarket and then came home. Kitty had told me that Alice’s case was in court at 9.30 a.m. and had been allotted half a day, so I was expecting to hear something early afternoon. Alice was due to see her father and Sharon for contact at 4.00 p.m. and I envisaged it being a pretty difficult meeting. I hoped Kitty would phone me in plenty of time, as it would be very awkward if I went into contact without knowing the judge’s decision.

She did.

At 2.30 the phone rang and I pounced on it, nearly knocking it to the floor. Kitty was calling from her mobile. ‘Cathy, I’ve just left court and, with a few provisos, the judge has agreed to our care plan. Alice will be returned to her grandparents while Leah has time to recover.’

‘Thank God,’ I said. ‘Fantastic. Well done. I’m so very pleased.’

‘Thanks. The judge made a few changes: contact with dad will be reinstated to once a week for the time being, and reviewed in three months. The judge also decided that no transition period was needed and that Alice should be returned to her grandparents as soon as possible. He was critical of the social services’ decision to take Alice into care and said there was no reason not to return her straightaway. Is this Saturday all right?’

I took a breath, shocked by the suddenness of it all, but pleased for Alice. ‘Yes. Shall I tell Alice or do you want to?’

‘Could you tell her, please? Then I will see her tomorrow after school and explain in more detail. I don’t think Chris will cause trouble, but I have notified the family centre of the outcome. He didn’t seem too fussed about the decision in court. It was Sharon who was upset, but then she has always been the one who wanted Alice.’

‘Yes,’ I said reflectively. ‘I hope she’ll have a chance to have her own child one day.’ But while I empathized with Sharon, I wasn’t letting it stand in the way of my sheer joy for Alice, who was going home to her dear nana and grandpa, albeit temporarily. ‘I’ll tell Alice when I collect her from school, then.’

‘Yes please.’

‘And thanks again, Kitty. I think it’s true to say this wouldn’t have happened without you.’

Chapter Thirty-Eight
You Can Say No

I
had just enough time to make a quick telephone call to my parents to tell them the good news before I left to collect Alice from school. ‘I’ve just heard: Alice is going home to her grandparents,’ I said as my mother answered. ‘This Saturday!’

‘That’s fantastic, but you’ll miss her so much. We all will.’ Alice had found a very special place in my parents’ hearts just as she had in ours.

I could hear my father in the background, asking my mother what was ‘fantastic’, and she repeated what I’d said, and then passed the phone to him.

‘I’m very pleased,’ he said. ‘But if you want my opinion Alice should never have been taken away in the first place. Those poor grandparents.’ Although my parents had never met Mr and Mrs Jones they had identified with their plight and felt their loss personally.

‘We won’t have time to visit you before Alice leaves,’ I said. ‘So we’ll phone tomorrow evening, and you’ll be able to say goodbye then.’

‘Thanks, love,’ my father said, a little subdued, and told my mother what I’d said. It’s as difficult for grandparents in a family who fosters as it is for the family itself, as they welcome new ‘grandchildren’ into their homes and lives and then have to say goodbye.

Adrian, Lucy and Paula were aware that Alice’s case was in court today and that, as it was Thursday, I would be taking Alice straight from school to the family centre. I left a note telling them what they would be wanting to know: ‘Good news! Alice is returning to live with her grandparents – on Saturday! Will tell you more when I see you at 4.30. Love Mum xxx’.

It was now 2.50, time to put on my coat and leave the house to collect Alice from school at 3.15. I must have had a silly grin on my face when I arrived, for as I went into reception the class teacher said: ‘You look happy. Won the lottery?’

‘Nearly,’ I said. ‘I’ve just had some very positive news. I’m sure Alice will tell you tomorrow.’ And perhaps her teacher guessed for her eyes widened with delight and she nodded knowingly.

‘I’ll look forward to hearing your news,’ she said, smiling at Alice.

Outside, as Alice slipped her hand into mine and we crossed the playground, I said. ‘Alice, love, you know I’ve talked to you about the judge – the wise man who decides where you live?’ She nodded. ‘Well, Kitty saw him today, in court, and he has decided you will live with your nana and grandpa again, for the time being, while Mummy gets better. He wants you to go home as soon as possible – this Saturday.’ I looked at Alice.
Her little face was expressionless, overawed, as she struggled with the enormity of what I was telling her. ‘So I will pack up all your things,’ I continued, spelling it out. ‘And on Saturday you will go and live with Nana and Grandpa again, just as you did before you came to me.’

‘On Saturday,’ she repeated, still not fully comprehending. ‘I watch the football on Saturday afternoons with Brian the Bear and you.’

‘Yes, I know, love, we have done for all these months, but this Saturday and for many Saturdays to follow you will be watching the football with Brian the Bear at your nana and grandpa’s house. Just as you did before you came to me.’

Alice looked up at me and her eyes widened. ‘But Nana doesn’t watch the football. Only Grandpa and me, and Brian the Bear sits on the sofa between us.’

‘That’s right, love, and all that will happen again – this Saturday. Just as it used to.’

I opened the car door, helped Alice into her seat and fastened her belt. Closing her door I climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. As I drove I continued to talk to Alice, occasionally glancing in the interior mirror to make sure she was all right. ‘Kitty is coming to see us tomorrow after school to explain more,’ I said. ‘But the judge has decided you will live with your nana and grandpa, as you used to, and you will see your mummy at the family centre, as you have been doing. You will also see your dad and Sharon once a week at the family centre. I expect next week your grandpa will take you.’

In the interior mirror I saw Alice nod as she slowly took it all in. A minute later my phone began ringing from its holder on the dashboard and I pulled over to answer it. It was Kitty. ‘Have you told Alice?’ she asked. My heart sank as I thought she was going to tell me she’d made a mistake and Alice wouldn’t be returning home, for I too was struggling to believe it.

‘Yes. We’re in the car now, on our way to contact.’

‘Sorry, but you’re going to have to turn round and go home. Sharon has telephoned and neither she nor Chris will be going to contact tonight.’

‘Oh, I see,’ I said.

‘They have decided to separate and need time to get things sorted out. Can you tell Alice? I’ll leave the explanation up to you.’

‘Yes, yes, of course.’

‘Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow after school.’

Swivelling round in my seat to face Alice, I told her that unfortunately her father and Sharon couldn’t make contact tonight but they sent their love, which seemed enough of an explanation and satisfied Alice. ‘That’s all right,’ she said amicably.

I turned the car round and drove home, with Alice now asking questions about the move to her nana and grandpa, having finally started to take it all in: ‘What time will we be going?’ ‘Will all my things fit in the car?’ ‘Will I still see you?’ ‘Will you look after another child?’ etc. By the time we arrived home Alice had come to terms with what was happening and was ecstatic. Eager to share her news with Adrian, Lucy and Paula, she dashed up the front garden path. But as I
opened the front door a welcoming party appeared in the hall: Adrian, Lucy and Paula, with my parents! who were just taking off their coats.

‘We came straight over,’ Mum said. ‘We couldn’t let little Alice go without saying a proper goodbye.’

Alice rushed straight into my mother’s arms. ‘I’ll miss you, Gran,’ she said, giving her a big kiss and squeezing her tightly. I saw my mother’s eyes immediately mist.

We went into the sitting room and, once settled, everyone wanted to know what had happened to allow Alice to return to her grandparents and how it had happened so quickly. Smiling at Alice, who was sitting on my mother’s lap, I explained that after further investigation, and having discussed Alice’s case with the Guardian, Kitty had revised the care plan and the judge had agreed that it was best for Alice to live with her grandparents. I wasn’t sure how much Kitty was going to tell Alice of the long-term plan of Alice eventually returning to live with her mother, as it relied on Leah making a full recovery, so I didn’t say anything about that. My parents were happy for Alice, as we were, although of course we were all going to miss her dreadfully.

I made my parents a cup of tea and then my father suggested we order a take-away by way of a small celebration, so the evening turned into an impromptu leaving party for Alice. Alice stayed up long past her normal bedtime as we sat around the table and ate a Chinese take-away, washed down with lemonade and followed by Neapolitan ice cream. We then played some of Alice’s favourite games and by 8.45 Alice was
yawning and rubbing her eyes. My parents said they would make a move and go now. My father gave Alice a hug and my mother hugged and kissed her.

‘I’m afraid we haven’t had a chance to buy you a leaving present,’ Mum said. ‘So we are giving you a little something you can spend when you’re living with your nana and grandpa.’ My mother produced a card from her handbag. Alice opened it and a £10 note fell out.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘That’s very generous.’ Then to Alice: ‘Shall I read what it says in the card?’

Alice nodded and I pointed to the words as I read what my mother had written: ‘Dear Alice, thank you for being part of our lives. You are very special and will be greatly missed. Please say hello to your nana and grandpa from us. All our love and best wishes for a healthy and happy future.’ Both my parents had signed it with kisses.

‘Thank you,’ Alice said, and gave them another kiss each.

We all went down the hall and I helped Mum and Dad into their coats. Then Adrian, Lucy and Paula said: ‘Goodbye, Gran, Grandpa,’ and Lucy added: ‘Is it all right if I call you Gran and Grandpa now? I’d like to. I’ve never had grandparents of my own.’

Mum, who was already close to tears at having to say goodbye to Alice, now took a tissue from her pocket to wipe her eyes. ‘Yes, of course, love,’ she said to Lucy. ‘We’d be honoured.’ She hugged and kissed Lucy, then Adrian and Paula, while Lucy kissed my father’s cheek, as Paula had done, and Adrian gave him a ‘man hug’.

It was a cold but dry night and we followed my parents down the path and then stood on the pavement and waved until they were out of sight. It was unlikely that my parents would see Alice again, although I would obviously pass on any news I had about Alice in the future.

Returning indoors, Lucy paused and looked at Paula. ‘So if I’m calling your grandparents Gran and Grandpa,’ she said, ‘is it OK if I call you sister? You feel like a proper sister to me.’

I was touched by Lucy’s request but I looked to Paula for her reaction; so too did Adrian. For while I recognized that Lucy had fitted easily into our family, was particularly close to Paula and was loved by us all, I wondered if Paula would resent her request and didn’t actually want a sister. I should have known my daughter better!

‘Sure,’ Paula said with a smile. ‘You’ve felt like my big sister for ages.’

‘Oh no!’ Adrian cried in mock displeasure. ‘Not two sisters! How will I cope!’

I took Alice up to bed and tucked her in; she was nearly asleep by the time I said goodnight and came out. As I passed Lucy’s room she called out: ‘Cathy? Have you got a moment? There’s something I need to ask you.’

Lucy had left her bedroom door open – a sure sign there was something on her mind and she needed to talk. I went in and found her already in her pyjamas and propped up in bed. Lucy often got into bed early and then read a magazine, listened to music or sometimes
even did her homework in bed, although I didn’t encourage this. Having never had a proper bed or bedroom room of her own before coming into care, she really appreciated the comfort and security her own space offered. I perched on the bed and she looked at me seriously.

‘Cathy, it was nice of your parents to let me call them Gran and Grandpa.’

‘They were touched you wanted to,’ I said.

‘And it’s nice Paula wants me as a proper sister.’

‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘You two get along very well.’ I waited, for I knew this wasn’t the real reason Lucy had called me into her room – to tell me she was pleased she had grandparents and a sister to call her own. I sensed there was something much bigger, heartfelt, that she needed to share with me but was finding difficult. I wasn’t wrong.

‘Cathy,’ she continued hesitantly after a moment, toying with the edge of the duvet. ‘I want to ask you something, and you can say no if you like. I’ll understand. I promise I won’t be hurt or disappointed – well, I will be, but I’ll try not to be.’

‘Yes?’ I prompted, wondering what on earth it could be she was finding so difficult to ask. Lucy didn’t normally have this much trouble talking to me.

‘Well, it’s this,’ she said, still looking very serious and fiddling with the duvet. ‘You know I think of all of you as my proper family?’ I nodded. ‘And you know I sometimes call you Mum?’ I nodded again. ‘Well, this feels like my home to me – my proper home – and I don’t ever want to have to leave it. I’ve been reading
some books in the school library, doing some research, about adoption, and I was wondering, well, if you could adopt me? Then I wouldn’t have to leave and could be part of your family forever. I promise I won’t be any trouble, and I could help you with the washing up. You can say no if you want…I’m sorry, Cathy, I didn’t mean to make you cry.’

I put my arms around her and held her close, and for a few minutes that was all I could do: I was too choked-up to speak. Finally, drawing slightly away, I wiped my eyes. While I knew what my answer was, I also knew I had to be practical.

‘Lucy, love,’ I said. ‘I already look upon you as a daughter, and I hope you will be with me forever. I would be very happy to adopt you, but you realize it’s not my decision.’

‘I know, it’s the judge’s,’ Lucy said.

I nodded. ‘Look, love, I’ll speak to your social worker tomorrow and see what she says. You still have some contact with your mother and her views will be taken into account. It may be she won’t want you to be adopted.’ Lucy’s face clouded. ‘I can ask, love, but if it doesn’t happen we don’t need a piece of paper to say we’re mother and daughter, do we?’

She smiled sadly. ‘I guess not, but it would make me very happy and feel more secure.’

‘I know, love, I understand, and I’ll try my best.’

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