The Saddest Girl in the World (14 page)

‘It's not time to say goodnight yet,’ he said.

‘No, love, I know. But I need to talk to you about something Paula has just told me.’ Once again, I sat on the edge of the bed. Adrian put down his book, and I repeated what
Paula had said. By the time I'd finished, Adrian was nodding furiously. ‘She does this,’ he said, and widening his eyes, he glared at me with a really angry, accusing, threatening expression; whether it was exaggerated or not I didn't know.

‘So why didn't you tell me?’ I said. ‘You're older than Paula. I would have thought you could have come and told me.’

‘You're always so busy with Donna,’ he said, echoing Paula's words. ‘I was going to, but when I thought about what I could say — “I don't like the way Donna looks at me” — it sounded silly. So I stick my tongue out when she does it to me. But it frightens Paula.’

I looked at him as his gaze fell to his open book. How many times since I had started fostering had I reminded myself to make sure my time was divided equally between all my children — continuously? It was something that was always on my mind. But if I was honest, I could see that when I looked after a child with a high level of needs, as in Donna's case, I had to give the fostered child more than their fair share of attention, to welcome and settle them into our family and ensure all their needs were met — apparently to the detriment of Adrian and Paula.

‘Sorry,’ I said.

Adrian looked up and shrugged. ‘It doesn't matter.’

‘It does matter,’ I said firmly. ‘I realise now how much time I have been putting into Donna. I just assumed you two were all right but now I know, I shall be able to do something about it.’ Adrian nodded. ‘I will be keeping a close eye on Donna. I like her a lot, but she has been treated very badly by her family. I think she is copying the way she was treated at home. She doesn't know any different, and
part of our job is to show her a different way. But I'm not having you and Paula upset. It makes me sad, Adrian. I love you both so much.’

‘I know,’ he said quietly. ‘We love you too.’

‘So will you work with me on this? And tell me if anything else crops up in the future?’ I couldn't have a sub-plot running in the family, with Adrian and Paula in collusion and not telling me. A foster family is a unit where all members pull together, including natural and foster children, with no double standards; otherwise it's impossible to make it work.

‘Yes,’ he said.

‘Good boy. Thanks, Adrian. I'll leave you to your book now. Hopefully in a week's time, when it's Donna's party, you and Paula will feel comfortable enough to join in, and enjoy it. There's only us, her brothers and Emily going.’

He nodded and picked up his book. I kissed his forehead. ‘It's eight thirty. I'll come up again in half an hour to say goodnight.’ I left him once more immersed in Roald Dahl's
Revolting Rhymes
, which apparently they were studying at school.

I didn't raise the matter with Donna that night, for when I thought about it, what could I have reasonably said? ‘Donna, Paula and Adrian don't like the way you are looking at them. Could you stop it, please?’ Such a complaint seemed as ‘silly’ to my ears as it had done to Adrian's, and also I wanted to see at first hand what exactly they were talking about before I said anything to Donna.

I didn't have to wait long.

The following morning at breakfast I was presented with a classic example. Paula was sitting opposite Donna
at the table, with Adrian to her side. The three children were eating, and I had just made some fresh toast and was carrying it through to take my place at the end of the table. A cornflake dropped off Paula's spoon on to the table and I saw Paula immediately look up at Donna, as though expecting censure. She was well rewarded: Donna's eyes widened and she stared at Paula — an all-in-one package of anger, chastisement and a warning that it shouldn't happen again, or else!

‘It's only a cornflake,’ I said to Donna, ‘and there's no need for you to tell her off.’

Donna looked at me, shocked and surprised by my sudden insight. ‘I didn't say anything,’ she said.

‘No, you didn't have to. Does your mother look at you like that?’

Donna looked doubly shocked by my second stab of insight and stopped eating her wheat flakes.

‘Does she?’ I asked. ‘Because if so it's not nice.’

She didn't say anything but remained very quiet and still, as did Paula and Adrian. I didn't think that Donna was particularly concerned about the cornflake being dropped and making a (small) mess; it was that she was reverting to learned behaviour, seizing any opportunity to discipline, blame and punish a family member as had happened to her at home.

My voice was even but firm, as I buttered my toast and continued, ‘Harsh words are bad, but harsh looks are equally bad,’ I said. ‘They can make you feel uncomfortable and threatened. There is a saying — a picture paints a thousand words, and your look just now, Donna, painted a picture of anger with a punishment to follow.’ I looked around the table. ‘We are a family here — all four of us,’ I
said, ‘and we work together as a family. If anyone has a problem they come to me, and I will try to put it right. I am the adult, the parent here, and if any one of my children — Adrian, Paula or you, Donna — needs correcting in any way, I shall do it. I will not have anyone else trying to tell another family member what to do, either through words or looks. It's a form of bullying. And no one bullies anyone in this family, or anyone outside it.’ They were quiet and I felt the atmosphere weigh heavy, for rarely did I speak so harshly, and to everyone. Normally I dealt with the little incidents that arose individually, but clearly this was a whole family matter and needed direct, collective and immediate input.

‘So now we will finish our breakfast and get ready for school,’ I said. ‘And I don't want to see any more looks or tongue poking from anyone. Do I make myself clear?’

Adrian and Paula nodded, very subdued. Donna remained quiet and still. I picked up my toast and continued eating. Adrian finished first and left the table to go to the bathroom and brush his teeth. I looked between Donna and Paula.

‘You know, Donna,’ I said more gently. ‘Paula could be like a little sister to you. You never had a younger sister at home and she's dying to play with you.’

Paula looked hopefully at Donna, and we both waited, but still feeling bruised by my lecture, Donna wasn't about to give anything away just yet. After a moment she shrugged and then picked up her spoon and began eating again. When Paula had finished she left the table to take her turn in the bathroom. I looked at Donna again. ‘That look you have been giving Paula and Adrian — is that what your mother has been giving you at contact? I know your
mum can't say horrible things to you at contact because Edna stops her, but a look is easy to hide and just as hurtful. Particularly if it has a history and makes you remember hurtful things that happened in the past.’ Donna gave a small nod. ‘She always does it.’ ‘OK, I'll speak to Edna. You should have told me. Your mum shouldn't behave like that, and you mustn't do it here any more. Now go into the bathroom when Paula has finished and do your teeth. We're going to give out your invitations to Emily, Warren and Jason today,’ I added brightly.

Donna left the table without saying anything, and sulking. But now that I'd spoken directly and firmly the matter was dealt with and would be put behind us, although obviously I would still be vigilant. Old habits die hard and Donna had spent all her life learning this behaviour, so it wasn't going to disappear overnight.

After I had taken the children to school I telephoned Edna and explained what had happened. Edna treated the matter with the seriousness I had done, well aware that fear and control come in many forms. She said she would watch Rita closely, and asked me to tell her immediately if Donna said she had experienced the look again at contact. I also told Edna that Donna was giving out party invitations today — to Warren, Jason and Emily — but in view of the Guardian's advice we wouldn't be giving one to Chelsea, with which Edna agreed.

‘Donna's birthday is on a Monday,’ Edna said, ‘so I'll do a special tea at contact that evening, and I'll remind Rita and Chelsea to buy a present. In fact I think I'll buy presents for them to give to Donna, because Rita will say she hasn't any
money. If I give her money it's sure to go on something else — drink. Have you got any suggestions for presents?’

‘Donna likes making things,’ I said. ‘How about some sort of craft set? A jewellery-making set or basket weaving? We've bought her a bike. She's never owned a bike before.’

‘That's very generous of you, Cathy,’ Edna said. ‘Is the birthday money enough to cover it?’ She was referring to the allowance that is paid to foster carers towards the cost of the looked-after child's birthday present and party. It wasn't enough to cover it, but if foster carers kept only to the allowance, children would have pretty meagre birthdays.

‘No problem,’ I said. ‘It has helped towards the cost.’

By the time I collected Donna from school that afternoon the heavy atmosphere of the morning had lifted, and she told me she had given out her invitations and Emily had immediately said she could definitely come.

The following day, without the quick turnaround necessary for contact, I made a point of seeing Emily's mother, Mandy, and confirmed the arrangements for Sunday. Emily hadn't been to tea yet — I had left an open invitation with Mandy — and Mandy was very pleased that Emily would be going to Donna's party, for like Donna, Emily found it difficult to make friends. I told Mandy who would be going to the party, and she said she would drop Emily off at the bowling alley at 2.30 p.m., and then collect her at the end at 5.oo. She also asked what Donna would like for a present. I said I'd give it some thought, but I was sure Emily could suggest something; as her best friend she would know what Donna liked.

The week as usual ran away with us, and very quickly it was Friday and Donna's party was two days away. However, this took a back seat on Friday morning when Donna went into school to be tested on her three times table. We had been practising the three times all week, as we had done the previous week with the two times table, and I wished her luck, as did Adrian and Paula. We'd had only two incidents of Donna giving that ‘look’ to Paula, and I'd dealt with it by saying a firm ‘No’ to Donna. Adrian and Paula seemed more relaxed in her company now that they were aware I was dealing with the situation. Donna had accepted my ‘No’ and spent only a short while sulking, for she was too excited about her party to sulk for long.

It was only when I arrived home on Friday morning, having dropped the children off at school, that I realised I hadn't had confirmation from Mary and Ray that Warren and Jason would be coming to Donna's party, although I'd assumed they would be. Occasionally I saw Mary and Ray going in or coming out of school, but not often, and I wouldn't have the chance to seek them out in the afternoon because I had to do the quick turnaround for contact. I thought I would give them a ring, just to confirm that the boys had shown them the invitations and would be at the bowling alley at 2.30 p.m. for Donna's party. I phoned at lunchtime, Mary answered, and I knew immediately something was wrong.

‘C
athy,’ Mary said slowly, as though gathering her thoughts. ‘I was going to phone you. I have been putting if off, in the hope that the boys could be persuaded to change their minds.’ I didn't say anything, and waited as Mary paused again before continuing. ‘I'm sorry, Cathy, but Warren and Jason are saying they won't come to Donna's party. I have been trying to persuade them all week, but they are stubbornly refusing.’ She stopped, and I could tell she was as uncomfortable and disappointed to be giving me the news as I was to be receiving it.

‘Why not?’ I asked. ‘There's only Warren, Jason, Emily and us going. There's nothing for them to be worried about. You can stay with them if they want you to.’

‘No, it's not that,’ she said, and she paused again. I thought, what on earth is it then? This is the boys' sister's birthday we're talking about! ‘Look, Cathy, I don't know if the boys have been got at by their mother or whether it's a continuation of their behaviour towards Donna from the past. But they are both saying they won't come to the party, and have rightly pointed out that Ray and I can't force them to go. I told Edna yesterday, and she asked me to talk to them again to see if I could find out what the problem was, and if I could get them to change their
minds. I can't. Edna said she was going to speak to you later today.’ Mary stopped and there was a very awkward silence.

‘Donna will be very disappointed,’ I said at last. ‘She has been planning this party all week. It's all she talks about. It won't be much of a party with just Emily and us there.’

‘I know,’ Mary said sadly. ‘That's what I told the boys, but they just shook their heads and wouldn't budge.’

‘And they haven't said why they don't want to come?’

‘Not exactly, although Warren said, “Mum wouldn't like it,” which is why I'm pretty certain it's come from Rita. The boys went to a friend's birthday party last Sunday with no problem; they're not shy. I'm sure Rita has told them not to go.’

‘That's dreadful,’ I said, appalled. ‘If that is so, then Rita is still managing to victimise Donna, even from a distance! It could only have happened at contact. Somehow Rita has got at them.’

‘I know. That's what Edna said. Although she's no idea how. I didn't push it with her, because she's such a dear and I know she feels it personally. Edna never leaves them alone at contact, but of course she only has to turn her back for a second and Rita could have easily whispered in Warren's ear. Jason does as his older brother says.’ I thought that with this, and the looks she had been slyly giving Donna, Rita was running rings around Edna at contact.

‘All right,’ I said, sad and deflated. ‘I'll have to try to think of a way to tell Donna, although goodness knows what I'm going to say.’

‘Do you want to tell her the boys are ill?’ Mary asked. ‘I wouldn't normally suggest lying, but I can't think of anything else.’

‘I don't know. I'll phone Edna and see what she thinks. If the boys do change their minds, will you let me know?’

‘Yes, of course, but I don't think they will. They are adamant. I'm so sorry, Cathy. I know how you must be feeling. I have bought a nice present for the boys to give to Donna, and also one from Ray and me. I'll send them with the boys to contact on Monday.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, no less disappointed. ‘Let me know if they do change their minds, even if it's on Sunday morning.’

‘I will do, but honestly Cathy, they wouldn't dare go against their mother, even now.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I know.’

We said goodbye and I put the phone down, my heart heavy and my plans for Donna's party falling apart. What mother does that to their daughter, I thought? It was vindictive to an unprecedented extent. Not only had Rita made Donna's life a misery for all the years she had been at home but she was now finding ways to continue doing so. By stopping the boys going, Rita was not only reinforcing her rejection and control, but also continuing to reinforce Donna's brothers' rejection of her. It was unbelievable. Rita must have known how much Donna's party would mean to her, particularly as it was the first one she'd ever had, and now she was sabotaging it! It was only ever going to have been a small affair because Donna only had one proper friend, and Rita couldn't even allow her that. I silently cursed the woman who, as far as I was concerned, had absolutely no claim to the title of mother apart from that of having given birth to her. I sincerely hoped she got her comeuppance one day.

I hovered by the phone, my mind frantically searching for any way to salvage Donna's party. There was no one else in her class she wanted to ask, and it was probably too late anyway to start issuing more invitations now. I considered phoning around my friends who fostered and inviting them and their children to the party, but what would have been the point in that? A party of strangers was hardly likely going to recompense Donna for her brothers' refusal to go. No, we were just going to have to do our best and make the most of it.

Just as I walked away from the phone it rang again and for a moment I thought it might be Mary, phoning back to say she'd thought of a way to persuade the boys to go.

‘Hello?’ I said, my spirits briefly rising. They fell again instantly. It was my ex-husband, John.

‘Hello, Cathy,’ he said, suitably subdued, aware that I hadn't fully appreciated his running off with a woman half his age three years previously. ‘How are you?’

‘Fine,’ I said, which was what I usually said.

‘I was due to see the children Sunday week,’ he continued, ‘but something's come up. Could I bring my visit forward to this Sunday?’ That's all I need, I thought!

‘I'm sorry,’ I said. ‘Adrian and Paula are going to a birthday party this Sunday. They are free on Saturday, though.’

‘No can do Saturday. I've got tickets for the theatre in the evening — it would be too much of a rush.’ Suit yourself, I thought, but didn't say. ‘Couldn't they miss the party?’

‘No, I'm afraid not. It's someone close.’ He didn't have to know the details; he knew I still fostered, but my business was none of his concern now, unless it was related directly to Adrian and Paula.

‘OK,’ he said. ‘I'll have to shift my visit back. I'm on holiday for a couple of weeks, so I'll see them a month on Sunday.’

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I'll put it in the diary. I'll tell Adrian and Paula you phoned.’

‘Thanks.’

Curt possibly, but I hadn't been rude. I put down the phone and wondered what other bad omen was going to blow my way this Friday. It was just as well it wasn't Friday the 13th or else I could have been persuaded into feeling superstitious. Not only did I now have to tell Donna that her brothers wouldn't be coming to her party, but I also had to tell Adrian and Paula that their father was postponing his visit and wouldn't be coming for another month. They looked forward to seeing him, and although I had my own thoughts about his irresponsibility in deserting his family, I had kept them to myself and not let them get in the way of the children's relationship with him. The time they spent with their father was limited — one day a month (his decision) — and Adrian and Paula looked forward to his visits. The last time he had postponed, Adrian in particular had seen it as a personal rejection — ‘He doesn't have to come at all if he doesn't want to,’ he'd said moodily. It had taken me some while to persuade Adrian that his father did want to see him and that the postponement had been unavoidable.

Edna phoned five minutes before I was due to leave the house to collect the children from school.

‘I'm sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn't realise the time.’ She apologised again for the boys not wanting to go to Donna's party, feeling that it was her fault that the boys had been
‘got at’, as she put it. ‘Cathy,’ she said, ‘I'm going to try to find a colleague to help me supervise the contact in future. You need eyes in the back of your head when Rita and Chelsea are together. They're a devious pair, and I know how cruel they can be to Donna, but I'm shocked they have stooped this low. Trouble is I'm finding it difficult to get someone to commit to staying until six thirty three nights a week.’

I could see her problem; I doubted many of her colleagues would want to extend their working days into the evening, one of the evenings being a Friday. In my experience Edna's commitment was well beyond the norm, and proof of her dedication and love of her work.

‘What will you tell Donna?’ she asked.

‘I really don't know yet. I think it might be the truth. If I lie to Donna and tell her the boys are ill, and she finds out they aren't, it's going to undermine her trust in me. I'm not sure yet what to say. I'll give it some more thought. I'm sorry, Edna, I'm going to have to go now or I'll be late collecting the children from school.’

‘Yes, of course. Sorry, Cathy,’ she said, finishing as she had started.

I left Adrian and Paula in the car in the staff car park while I went in to collect Donna from school. It was pouring down and the rain had a cold biting edge to it, which said winter was just around the corner. I was so preoccupied with the bad news of the day that I had completely forgotten about the three times table test, and I wondered why Donna was bounding towards me, and why Beth Adams was close behind her, clearly wanting to see me.

‘I remembered them all!’ Donna exclaimed. ‘And got all the test right!’

‘She did,’ Beth Adams confirmed.

It took me a moment to realise what they were talking about. ‘Excellent,’ I said. ‘That's fantastic news. Well done, love.’

‘I have earned another two team points,’ Donna said, beaming.

‘She deserves it,’ Beth Adams said. ‘The three times table is a tricky one, and only half the class got all the test right. Donna was one of them!’

I congratulated Donna again, and thanked Beth Adams. It was the best news I'd had all day, and also proved that with time and a lot of hard work Donna could learn as well as anyone. I thought that Beth Adams was going to have to readjust her expectations of what Donna could achieve, for if this was an indication of what Donna was capable of, then she had only just begun!

That evening when Donna was in the bath I told Paula and Adrian that I needed to talk to them. Without making a big issue of it, and thereby hopefully minimising their disappointment, I told them that unfortunately their father had had to postpone his visit planned for the following Sunday. Paula didn't say anything, which didn't surprise me, for if I was honest she had less of a bond with her father than Adrian did; she'd been only three when John had left and didn't remember a time when he'd lived with us. Adrian had been seven, and remembered a different family where his father had been present, and perhaps also because he was a boy, he had suffered more when his father had suddenly gone. Predictably, now Adrian was the one
who made the comment ‘What is more important than seeing us?’ And as I was put in the position of having to defend my ex for the sake of Adrian maintaining a positive image of his father, I felt that familiar stab of irritation.

‘He didn't say exactly why he couldn't come,’ I said. ‘But he made a special point of asking me to tell you that he is sorry. And that he misses you both and loves you very much.’ Which softened the blow a little, as it had done in the past when he'd postponed a visit. I moved swiftly on. ‘I'm afraid there is another piece of disappointing news,’ I said. ‘And I'm going to need your help on this one. Both of you.’ They looked at me questioningly. ‘It's not about your father,’ I added quickly. ‘But I have learnt this afternoon that Donna's brothers won't be coming to her party.’

‘Why?’ they asked together.

‘It's something to do with her mother,’ I hedged.

‘What?’ Adrian said. ‘We'll look after them if that's what she's worried about.’

I wish, I thought. ‘No, I'm afraid it's more to do with the bad way she treated Donna at home, and her not wanting Donna to have a good time.’

‘That's horrible,’ Paula said.

‘It won't be much of a party if no one's coming,’ Adrian said. ‘I had twelve at mine.’

‘I know, love. And that is why I'm going to need your help. I'm not going to say anything to Donna yet: I'm still hoping her brothers' carers can persuade them to change their minds. But if they can't, then the three of us and Emily must make sure Donna has a wonderful time. I'm sure we can do it.’

Paula nodded and Adrian said, ‘I could ask some of my friends to come?’

I smiled. ‘That's sweet of you, and I had thought of that, but I don't think it will be the same for Donna. She doesn't really know them, does she?’

‘But why doesn't Donna's mum want her to have a good time?’ Paula asked, her naïve and unsullied innocence making it impossible for her to grasp the concept of such nastiness from a mother to a daughter.

‘Donna's mother treated Donna very badly,’ I said, ‘which is why she came into care. I think she's still trying to do it from a distance. By making her feel rejected and unloved.’

‘I love Donna,’ Paula said, looking very sad, and my heart gave that little lurch. ‘We'll make sure she has a good time. You don't need lots of people. It's the ones close to you who count.’

‘Exactly,’ I said, smiling at Paula. ‘I couldn't have put it better myself.’

Over the weekend, when we weren't learning the four times table, Adrian and Paula paid Donna extra attention, and went out of their way to talk to her and suggest games she might like to join in. They clearly felt the rejection that Donna would be feeling if her brothers didn't change their minds and come to the party. It was at times like this that I was most proud of Adrian and Paula: I was always proud of them, but the tenderness and concern they showed for Donna highlighted their empathy and insight into Donna's plight, feeling as most children from normal families would have done. However, in making these friendly advances towards Donna, Paula and Adrian had left themselves wide open, and I had to remind Donna a few times over the weekend not to try to boss Adrian and
Paula or discipline them. It wasn't Donna's fault; she was simply reverting to the example of how her family had treated her in the previous ten years. Adrian and Paula, now more aware of what Donna had been through, and with her party looming, were even more forgiving.