Jane Renshaw - Watch Over Me

Mair: ‘Bekki is now two years and eight months old. She’s a bright, healthy child, but I would also describe her as unusually quiet and undemanding for her age. She has been assessed by medical doctors and a psychiatrist – I think you have also had those reports, Lady Semple. They found her to show no signs of physical or cognitive impairment, but there were some indications of impairments in developmental functioning and emotional well-being, in particular symptoms of anxiety, excessive shyness and withdrawal. Immediately following her removal from the family, she was found to be malnourished and was diagnosed with a vitamin C deficiency. There were also some dozen or so cuts and bruises to her arms, legs and torso. She’s now living with foster parents. There has been no contact with her mother, Shannon-Rose Johnson, or any of her biological family, under the terms of the emergency child protection order granted by this court in July of this year, following Bekki’s removal into Local Authority care, as there was felt to be a significant risk of harm.’

I dinnae lose it.

I give Bekki’s Shrek a cuddle and shake my head, like I’m that disbelieving the bitch has the brass neck.

Fwah moves back to the table and leans over his computer screen. ‘The mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I believe?’

Mair sits back with a put-on sad face. ‘Yes, Bekki’s mother, Shannon-Rose Johnson, suffers from paranoid schizophrenia. Before her arrest for murder, she had poor adherence to medication, which, coupled with substance abuse, resulted in frequent episodes of psychosis. While experiencing such an episode on the twenty-fifth of June this year, she fatally stabbed her partner, Dean McGillivray, with a kitchen knife. She has pled guilty to murder and is currently awaiting sentencing in a secure psychiatric unit.’

Fwah : ‘And these tragic circumstances resulted in Shannon-Rose’s parental responsibilities and rights – PRRs – in respect of her two-year-old daughter Bekki being removed and granted to the Local Authority?’

‘In the immediate aftermath of Shannon-Rose’s arrest, Bekki was taken to stay with her grandparents, Jed and Lorraine Johnson. In such cases there is always a presumption in favour of PRRs being allocated to the child’s biological family, with or without a formal adoption. But in the case of Bekki Johnson it was, sadly, clear from the outset that this would not be in her best interests.’

Mandy goes, ‘Was it fuck,’ and Carly goes, ‘Wait a wee minute.’

I goes, ‘Shut it yous.’

Sheriff eyeballs us.

Jed wanted the whole lot of us coming down but I wasnae having it. One look at Jed, at his bust nose and scars and the manky tattoos up his neck, one look at Ryan flashing his fake Rolex and gold chains, like he’d a big sign on him saying ‘Drug Dealer’, and the sheriff would be all Christ on a cheesy biscuit and checking security. Goodbye Bekki. Even if Jed and Travis didnae lose their shit.

So no Jed, no Ryan, no Travis. Just me, Carly and Connor, and Mandy.

It was maybe a mistake bringing Mandy but. My big sis. We’ve both of us got a cleavage on us you could smother a fucking babby in, but at least mine’s under cover, eh? Mands is putting it all out there and she’s wearing a bra two sizes too wee – her daft budget version of a Wonderbra – and she’s having issues, got her hand down her top wammling like a fucking ferret.

Aye, thanks a lot, doll, why don’t you give the court the whole fucking floor show while you’re at it? She tells folk she used to be a modern dancer, but she was just one of they fat lassies used to jiggle their bits in the back room at the Anchor Bar.

Mr Lyall told us how to act when we got here.

No eating or drinking.

No swearing.

No shouting out.

‘You have to show the sheriff that you’re the kind of people a child would be secure – safe and happy with,’ says Mr Lyall, looking down his long neb, like I wouldnae know what secure means. ‘You need to let her see you as a nice, loving family. Maybe you come from a bad area, maybe you have problems, but you love each other. You’re reasonable people. You know how to behave. All right?’

Like the only way we’ll come across as decent fucking human beings is if we’re faking it.

I put an arm round wee Connor. ‘It’s okay, love.’

Connor gives me evils.

I squeeze his shoulders. ‘It’s okay. It’s okay, son.’ I squeeze him and he wrinkles up his face but he doesnae look like he’s upset, he looks like he’s shat his fucking pants. Connor’s got my brains but he’s a wee diddy so he is. The other week Ryan’s like that: ‘Connor. I wish you all the best and every success in your chosen career, aye? But you are a dowfie wee fuckwit.’ And he’s pointing a finger like the fucker in The Apprentice. ‘ You’re fired .’

And that’s Connor’s arse out the business.

Ryan says the coppers went and stopped them up the High Street and Connor’s all ‘We’ve no got nothing on us, Big Man, so we havenae,’ and he turns round and eyeballs the bin where Ryan’s just dropped his blade.

The boy’s a wee diddy.

I give him a nip.

And another.

And there we go. It’s a wee shame so it is, the effect it’s all having on Connor.

Fwah : ‘Not in her best interests to remain with her biological family? Could you explain why this was felt to be the case?’

Mair: ‘Following an assessment of the household, Social Work concluded that kinship care was not appropriate for Bekki, and we applied for an emergency child protection order to remove her from Mr and Mrs Johnson’s home.’

Fwah : ‘And why was this done?’

Mair takes a big sad breath. ‘On my initial visit to Jed and Lorraine Johnson’s home, I found the family situation to be chaotic. The Johnsons have five children: Shannon-Rose, Ryan, Travis, Carly and Connor. They share their home with three of these children – Travis, Carly and Connor, plus Travis’s girlfriend Mackenzie, and Travis and Mackenzie’s baby Corrigan. Their eldest son Ryan and his girlfriend Shannon… this is another Shannon, obviously, not Shannon-Rose… they and Shannon’s two children from previous relationships live across the street, but they were all there at the time of my visit. The house was in a poor state of repair, with several internal doors missing or off their hinges, and holes in the plasterboard of the walls and, in one place, the ceiling… It was also very dirty, with no attempt to clean seeming to have been made for some time. The air was foetid and thick with the smell of chip fat and cigarette smoke – the family are all smokers, with the exception of youngest son Connor, and Mr and Mrs Johnson permit smoking throughout the house. There were dirty nappies in the living room, one of which a Rottweiler puppy was chewing. There was a used condom on the carpet by the side of the sofa. I was subjected to threats and verbal abuse from several family members from the moment I entered the house. They also verbally and physically abused each other in my presence. Jed Johnson told his son Travis to –’ She makes like she’s consulting her notes ‘– “Go off and take your face for a shite, you wee fucker” and attempted to strike him on the back of the head. Travis Johnson took evasive action, called Jed Johnson a “fucking old alky bastard”, and pushed him against the door frame.’

Mandy’s pissing herself laughing, and she’s no the only one.

Sheriff goes, ‘Please, ladies and gentlemen.’

Fwah : ‘I see. And had the situation improved on your subsequent visits?’

Subsequent visits?

‘Unfortunately not.’

The brass neck of her!

‘And as to the child, on that initial visit?’