The Saddest Girl in the World (23 page)

‘Would you like to see my photographs?’ she asked me after a moment.

‘Yes please, very much.’

Edna winked at me knowingly. ‘I'll leave you to it then. I'll be off now and I'll phone on Monday.’

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Donna, I'll just see Edna out then we'll look at your photographs together.’ I smiled again at Donna and she smiled back.

I went with Edna to the front door. ‘It appears to have gone well,’ I said quietly.

‘Yes, it did, bless her. She's so eager for you to see the photographs, I didn't let on you'd already seen them. But I've told her you've met Marlene and you like her. It's important for her to know that you approve.’

‘Yes, thanks, Edna.’

We said goodbye and I closed the front door. Edna was a highly experienced and dedicated social worker, and also very sensitive to children's feelings. I didn't know what exactly Edna had said to Donna, but whatever it was had left Donna in a very positive mood. When I went into the lounge she was still poring over the photographs, eager to show me.

I sat beside her and watched as she carefully turned the pages, describing what was in each picture. When we came to the photograph of her bedroom her eyes lit up. ‘It's lilac,’ she exclaimed, as doubtless she had done when
she'd first seen the photo with Edna. ‘It's my favourite colour.’

‘It is,’ I said, ‘and what a lovely room! Aren't you lucky?’

She nodded happily. ‘I'm looking forward to seeing it on Sunday. That's when we visit, isn't it?’

‘Yes, love, it is.’

Donna turned to the last photograph, of Marlene's extended family, and told me the names of those people she could remember. When Paula appeared five minutes later, Donna went through the photographs again, pointing out the details in each photo with a more elaborate commentary. When Adrian, having finished his homework, came down for a drink and snack twenty minutes later, Donna went through the photo wallet again.

That night when I went into Donna's room to say goodnight, I thought she looked sad. She was in her pyjamas, sitting in bed waiting for a goodnight kiss. The photograph album was closed in her lap. I perched on the edge of the bed and she looked at me with big wondering eyes. ‘This time next week, 'she said, 'I shall be sleeping in my new bed for the first time.’

‘That's right, love. In your beautiful lilac room with lilac sheets and duvet.’ I took her hand between mine.

She thought for a moment, then said softly, ‘I'm happy Marlene wants me as a daughter, but it will be a bit strange to begin with, like when I first came here.’

‘It will seem a bit strange, yes, because it will all be new, but I don't think it will be like when you first came here, love. Do you remember how you felt then?’ She nodded. ‘You have come a long way since then, Donna, and I am very proud of you. I know you will be just fine, although we're going to miss you loads.’

‘That's what Edna said.’ She gave a little wistful smile. ‘And we will keep in touch, won't we, Cathy? It's important to me.’

‘Of course, love. It's important to us too. We'll all stay in touch for as long as you want, Donna. I promise you.’

She put her arms around me and hugged me tightly. ‘For ever, Cathy. You will be my second family when Marlene is my new mum.’

A
s one o'clock approached the following day, the time Marlene was due, it was difficult to say who was the more nervous: Donna, who was standing behind the net curtains in the front room watching for the first glimpse of Marlene; Paula, who was making regular trips from the front room to the kitchen to update me; or me, wiping the work surfaces as a displacement for my own nervous energy. Adrian was perfecting his ‘Mr Cool’ image and, aware that Marlene's visit was soon, was in his room listening to his iPod. However, at 1.10 p.m., when I heard Donna's little voice call ‘She's here,’ followed by Paula's louder cry of ‘She's here!’ and I answered the door, it was obvious who was the most nervous — Marlene.

‘Do I look all right?’ she asked, smoothing her hand over her floral patterned dress and adjusting the small gold chain around her neck.

‘Of course. You look fine. Come in.’ I smiled and touched her arm reassuringly. ‘The girls have been looking out for you.’

‘I'm so sorry I'm late, Cathy. The traffic was horrendous, I should have guessed it would be busy on a Saturday.’

‘Don't worry. They would have been watching for you whatever time you'd come. Let's go through to the lounge.’
I led the way down the hall to the lounge, at the same time calling, ‘Donna, Paula, Marlene is here.’ Now the longed-for arrival had happened the girls had gone shy and were hiding in the front room.

‘Do sit down,’ I said to Marlene. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘No thanks, Cathy. I'm fine. It's a lovely place you have here.’

‘Thank you.’ I sat on the other sofa. ‘Your photographs were a great success,’ I said. ‘Donna was so proud of them — she must have shown us all at least six times.’

‘Were they all right? Thank goodness. I did wonder,’ Marlene said, flustered. ‘I am pleased.’ Although it was a fairly cool autumn day Marlene looked hot and her forehead glistened slightly.

I began making small talk — about the weather and the traffic in the high street; then I told Marlene more about Donna's school. It was better for Donna that we carried on in a natural manner, where there was no pressure on her; she would join us when she felt able. I told Marlene of our evening routine, some of which she could adapt in the first few days after the move to help make Donna feel at home. Then Marlene told me some more about her family. Presently we heard footsteps coming along the hall and Paula and Donna entered the lounge. Paula was holding Donna's hand and leading her, just as she had once led her down the garden in what now seemed a lifetime ago.

‘Donna, Paula, this is Marlene,’ I said. Marlene stood, and went over and shook Paula's hand, then Donna's. Donna had her eyes trained on the floor, and for the first time since I couldn't remember when, she had her shoulders slightly hunched forward.

‘Lovely to meet you both,’ Marlene said, and she glanced anxiously at me.

‘Come and sit down,’ I said to the girls. ‘We've been talking about the photographs, and the people in the family group. Marlene is going to see her niece, Kerry, later.’

Paula led Donna to the sofa and they sat beside me. Marlene returned to the other sofa, and we picked up our conversation about Marlene's family for a few minutes, so the atmosphere was relaxed. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Donna gradually raise her head and steal a glance at Marlene, then lower it again quickly. Marlene smiled and continued talking. A moment later our cat, Toscha, sauntered into the lounge.

‘Hello,’ Marlene said, and Donna glanced between Toscha and Marlene. ‘Did you see the picture of my cat, Harris?’ Marlene asked.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘He's quite a bit bigger than Toscha.’ Donna looked up, for longer this time.

‘Harris is a very lazy cat,’ Marlene said. ‘All he does is eat and sleep. He's part Persian, so he has long hair and needs a lot of brushing.’

‘I brush Toscha,’ Donna said, raising her head and speaking for the first time.

‘I don't,’ Paula said. ‘Toscha scratched me once.’

‘That's because you poked your finger in her ear, when you were little,’ I said to Paula, and she giggled.

‘Shall I brush Toscha now?’ Donna asked quietly, daring to raise her head for longer.

We didn't normally brush the cat in the lounge because of the hair but I thought it would help ‘break the ice’ and give us a focal point. ‘Yes, if you like. You know where the brush is.’

Donna and Paula went to the cupboard under the stairs to fetch the brush. I smiled at Marlene. ‘Don't worry. Donna is slowly thawing out. It's bound to take time. I wouldn't have expected any different.’

‘Do you think she likes me?’ Marlene asked anxiously.

‘Yes, of course. Please don't worry.’

The girls returned with the cat brush, and Donna sat on the floor beside Toscha and began grooming her, brushing her fur from the neck down towards her tail as I had shown her. She had a naturally light touch and a soothing, almost soporific manner, as though caressing the cat with each stroke of the brush. Toscha stretched out and yawned contentedly, making the most of this sudden and unscheduled attention. Paula sat a little away from them, not wholly convinced the cat wouldn't suddenly remember her poking its ear and turn and seek revenge, although I had spent a long time trying to convince Paula otherwise.

Marlene slipped from the sofa and joined Donna on the floor. ‘Hello Toscha,’ she said gently, then began stroking the cat's forehead while Donna continued her slow leisurely brushing. I thought the cat was going to be very spoilt after all this.

‘Harris is going to love you, Donna,’ Marlene said. I smiled, and so too did Donna.

Marlene and I kept the conversation going while she continued stroking Toscha's forehead as Donna brushed. I steered the conversation to Marlene's house, and said how much Donna liked the photograph of her bedroom. Marlene said she had redecorated it herself and was about to start redecorating the kitchen. Adrian appeared and I introduced him to Marlene. He went over, and she stood to shake hands.

‘How is school?’ she asked.

‘Good, thanks,’ Adrian said, then he disappeared into the kitchen to get himself a drink, before returning to his bedroom. I hoped she didn't think him rude.

‘He has a lot of school work,’ I offered.

Marlene nodded. ‘My son is twenty-two now, and is in his last year at university. He's studying law.’

‘That's a good profession,’ I said.

A few minutes later I thought the cat grooming had run its course and I suggested to Donna that she did a jigsaw puzzle, with the intention of Marlene and her doing most of it, so that they could continue working together.

‘I'm not very good at jigsaws,’ Marlene said. ‘Are you, Donna?’

‘A little,’ she said in a small voice.

I went to the toy cupboard and found a jigsaw that could be completed in the twenty minutes that was left of Marlene's visit. Marlene and Donna sat side by side on the floor and began sifting through the pieces, finding the corners and straight edges, with Paula helping. I continued to make light conversation. It wasn't the easiest situation, but I hadn't expected anything different with the first meeting. I hoped that Marlene wasn't disappointed and hadn't expected Donna to rush into her arms and treat her as a new mother. An hour was enough for this first visit, and once the jigsaw was complete, I confirmed the arrangements for the following day. ‘Is one o'clock still all right for us to visit you?’ I asked Marlene.

‘Yes. Would you like me to make some lunch?’

I thought having to sit and eat lunch might be too much for Donna on her first visit to Marlene's. ‘No, don't worry about lunch,’ I said. ‘A drink and a biscuit will be fine.’

Marlene returned to the sofa for a few minutes and Donna fell quiet again. ‘OK,’ Marlene said after a moment, ‘I'll look forward to seeing you all again tomorrow.’ She said goodbye to Donna and Paula in the lounge, and I saw her to the door.

‘It will be easier tomorrow,’ I reassured her, for Marlene did look quite worried.

‘Do you think she likes me?’ Marlene asked again, as she had done in the lounge.

‘Yes, you did fine. Please don't worry. It's a huge step for Donna, and she'll need time to reflect on this meeting. I know her — meeting new people is always difficult for her. Would you like me to phone you this evening?’

‘Oh, yes please,’ she said, relieved. ‘You will tell me if I'm doing anything wrong, won't you?’

‘Yes, but I'm sure you're not. Donna is quiet at the best of times.’

‘I do hope she likes me,’ Marlene said again.

I renewed my assurance and we said goodbye.

For the rest of the afternoon Donna talked about nothing else apart from Marlene and her home: ‘Do you think …?’ she asked repeatedly. ‘Will she have …? Does she like …?’ Sometimes I could answer her questions but often I had to say, ‘I don't know, but that's something you could ask Marlene tomorrow.’ When we sat down to dinner and the questions were still coming, I said, ‘Donna, Marlene is the best person to ask, and she would like it if you did ask her questions and talk to her. You might not realise it, but Marlene is just as nervous as you are. She so much wants you to like her.’

‘I do like her,’ she said quietly. ‘It's just all a bit strange.’

‘I know, love. I do understand.’

That evening I phoned Marlene while Donna was in the bath and told her that Donna hadn't stopped talking about her all afternoon. ‘And she likes you already,’ I said.

‘Did she say so?’

‘Yes, and she's going to try to talk more tomorrow.’

‘Oh, that's great. Thank you for telling me. After I left you I bought some more jigsaws, and also a new doll, which I have sat on Donna's bed.’ Marlene was trying so hard — I really felt for her.

‘That's lovely,’ I said, ‘but please don't worry. I know this will work out fine. It will just take time.’

That evening after I had read Donna a bedtime story and was saying goodnight to her, she said, ‘It feels so strange, Cathy. I think it's because Marlene is different to you.’

‘Just as well,’ I said, smiling. ‘Give yourself time, love. It's strange for Marlene too. She appreciates how you must be feeling.’ Donna smiled but was clearly deep in thought. I remained perched on the edge of the bed and stroked her forehead. ‘You all right, love?’

She nodded. ‘Cathy, do you think Marlene really does want me?’

‘Yes, of course, love. Whatever made you ask?’

‘My mum didn't want me.’

‘Is that what you've been thinking about?’

She nodded, and looked up at me imploringly.

‘Donna, love, your mum had so many problems in her life that they stopped her from seeing the beautiful things. She couldn't appreciate you, look after you or love you enough, because of her problems. Marlene and I, and most mothers, are different. You are a lovely person, and I know
Marlene already likes you. I also know that in time she will love you as we do.’

She smiled. As we had thought might happen, the introduction to Marlene had unsettled Donna and brought back the negative feelings and memories from her past. Prior to me, the other person who had been in the mothering role, far from liking Donna, had treated her appallingly. I could only offer so much reassurance; the rest would come when Donna saw for herself that Marlene behaved as I did, with the same respect and love.

As predicted, our visit to Marlene's, the following day, was a lot easier, with everyone far more relaxed. Marlene met us at the door of her three-bedroom semi with its neat front garden, and began a tour of the house. Harris, her large (and lazy) cat, was sprawled on the sofa in the lounge and living up to his reputation. Adrian sat on the sofa next to the cat and stayed downstairs, while Marlene showed the girls and me upstairs. Donna was keen to see her bedroom, and it was even more luxurious than the photograph had suggested. The smell of fresh paint still hung in the air, and the crisp cotton lilac curtains and matching duvet cover were brand new. There were lots of little matching accessories — a pale lilac shaded lamp, a lilac velvet-topped dressing-table stool and the new doll in a lavender-colour dress that Marlene had bought specially sitting on the bed. I hoped Donna appreciated just how much trouble Marlene had gone to.

‘Isn't it lovely?’ I said to Donna. ‘You are a lucky girl.’

Donna smiled, and looked as though she did appreciate it. She and Paula sat on the bed and began playing with the doll. The doll was about twelve inches high and dressed in
Victorian costume with layers of petticoats topped with the lavender-coloured satin dress. It was a lovely doll and I guessed quite expensive.

‘Do you want to stay here and play for a while?’ Marlene asked the girls. ‘Cathy and I can go downstairs.’ The girls nodded. ‘We'll be in the lounge when you've finished,’ Marlene added.

Downstairs Marlene set up the PlayStation for Adrian, and she and I sat in the armchairs at one end of the lounge-cum-dining room and chatted, while Adrian amused himself at the other end. Marlene told me that she had moved to the house three years previously and had had to extensively modernise, and redecorate every room. An elderly couple had lived in the house before her, for most of their lives, and the upkeep of the house had become too much for them. Marlene said that although the house was structurally sound she had been working on it continuously since moving in. I admired Marlene's handiwork and told her of my own decorating.

‘When you live by yourself,’ she said, ‘it's surprising what you can do if you have to. I have even plumbed in the new kitchen sink.’

‘Really?’ I said, impressed.

The kitchen was the last room that needed work doing to it, Marlene said, and she wanted to show me how far she had got. ‘My family give me a hand sometimes,’ she said as we went into the kitchen, ‘but I don't like to keep asking them.’ The new gleaming stainless-steel sink stood out against a backdrop of half-removed tiles. ‘They're dreadful to get off,’ Marlene said. ‘The news ones are over there.’ She pointed to a stack of boxes by the wall. ‘The next job is to replace the kitchen cupboards,’ she
continued, happy to have an appreciative audience. ‘I've got a local man coming in to help. Then it's the flooring.’ She tapped her foot on the torn and faded linoleum. ‘I haven't decided what to put down yet.’