Cathy Glass - Too Scared to Tell - Part 3 of 3

I texted a reply: Thanks for letting me know. Don’t forget to tell Andrew .

Andrew would have to reinstate contact at the Family Centre. If it wasn’t possible for Roksana and Oskar to have the same arrangements, she would be offered alternative dates and times. I told Oskar that his mother was returning to the UK on Monday.

‘When she’s back will I still be able to talk to Aunty Dol?’ he asked.

‘Hopefully. I’ll need to ask your social worker, and find out your aunt’s number.’ I’d been phoning Roksana’s mobile when Oskar had been talking to his aunt and her family.

‘Mummy has Aunty Dol’s number,’ Oskar said eagerly. ‘I can get it for you.’

‘It’s OK. I can ask her once I’ve spoken to Andrew.’

‘Can I talk to my aunt every night?’ Oskar persisted.

‘Probably not. Remember, you also have to phone your mother and see her at contact,’ I said practically. ‘I was thinking of once a week if Andrew agrees.’

Oskar pulled a face, suggesting he’d rather phone his aunt than see or phone his mother, which in some ways was understandable. It was a more positive experience for him.

It was seven o’clock when we finally arrived home, to an almost empty house. It was Saturday evening and Adrian and Lucy had texted to say they were going out and would see us later or in the morning. Sammy was in and ignored us, punishing us for leaving him as cats do.

‘Sammy doesn’t like me any more,’ Oskar said as the cat turned his back on him and sauntered off.

‘He’s sulking,’ I said. ‘He’ll get over it.’

‘He should tell you what’s wrong,’ Oskar said. ‘Like I do.’

I smiled. Whenever Oskar had a sulk, looked gloomy or angry, I told him to tell me what was wrong and I’d see what I could do to make it better.

While Paula made us a drink, I unpacked the essentials from our suitcases and then got Oskar into bed. He was exhausted from travelling and fell asleep almost immediately, cuddling his teddy bear, Luka, who had also come on holiday with us. Paula went to her room to enjoy her own space again and I sat in the living room with a mug of tea and phoned my mother. We chatted for a while about our holiday and what she’d been doing. She’d seen my brother while we’d been away and also a friend, and had spent time gardening. She seemed fine and I said we’d visit her the following weekend.

I then opened the mail. There’s nothing like the stack of letters that greets us on returning from holiday to ground us in reality again! The tedious assortment of circulars, bills and appointments seemed to have conspired in my absence, as if to say, How dare you try to escape from this lot and relax! Included in the mail was an invitation to Oskar’s second review (which was to be held the following week at the council offices, as the school was closed) and the review forms for Oskar and me to complete. I put those to one side with the other letters that needed to be acted on. The rest I shredded and put in the recycling bin.

At nine o’clock it was still light, so I opened the patio doors and stepped outside. The air wasn’t as warm as in Crete, but it was still very pleasant. Adrian and Lucy had done a good job of watering the potted plants on the patio and they’d also cut the grass. The bird feeder had been topped up and a couple of finches were having a late supper. Sammy strolled out of the living room and, finally forgiving me for leaving him, rubbed around my legs, purring. Normality had returned.

I waited up for Adrian and Lucy to arrive home. Adrian returned at eleven and we hugged and then sat in the living room and talked until nearly midnight. He was going on his walking holiday in the Lake District with Kirsty the following day. As we talked, a text arrived from Lucy to say she was spending the night at Darren’s house and would see us tomorrow.

I texted back, Thanks for letting me know, love. Look forward to seeing you tomorrow .

‘Has Lucy stayed at Darren’s much while I’ve been away?’ I asked Adrian.

‘Yes, most nights. His parents have been away too, so they had the house to themselves. She’s fine, Mum, don’t worry.’

Sunday morning I spent unpacking and washing clothes, while Adrian packed for his holiday. We gave him the gifts we’d brought back, then wished him a happy holiday and waved him off at the door. He was going to collect Kirsty and then drive to the Lakes. Lucy arrived home in time for lunch and hugged and kissed us all, and Paula gave her the present we’d brought her. We talked as we ate. She was interested in Crete and what we had to say. The music festival she and Darren were going to began on Thursday and lasted four days. It was being held on a country estate about half an hour away. Coaches were being laid on, with various pick-up points, to dissuade people from taking their cars. She was very excited and told us Darren had a tent, small cooking stove and utensils. They both had sleeping bags.

‘You will be careful,’ I said, aware there was often lots of alcohol and drugs at music festivals.

‘Of course, Mum. Trust me. I’m not daft.’

‘I know, love. I just worry about you all, and I can’t help that.’ I wished I could worry less now my children were adults, but as most parents know that is difficult; regardless of how old they are, they’re always your little children.

As the afternoon was warm, we spent most of it outside and had dinner there too, pretending we were still on holiday. Adrian texted our Glass WhatsApp group to say he and Kirsty had arrived safely in the Lakes and were going to get something to eat. Lucy, Paula and I texted back to wish them a good time.

Once Oskar was in bed, I finished the last of the unpacking, put away the cases and emailed Andrew. I’d been checking my email while I’d been away so I didn’t have to face the same deluge in my inbox as I had with the physical mail. I told Andrew that Oskar had enjoyed the holiday, and Roksana was returning to the UK tomorrow. I said that while we’d been away he’d spoken to his mother most evenings and also his Aunty Dol, Uncle Ivan and cousins Sabiny and Tamary. I said Oskar had asked if he could still call them now that we were home, and I suggested once a week. I also acknowledged receipt of Oskar’s review forms and asked if I should bring him with me to the review, as he would have to be there for the whole of the meeting. The first review had been held at school during term time and Miss Jordan had brought him in near the end. I concluded by mentioning that while I’d been away I’d forgotten to set my mobile phone to private number, so Roksana now had my number, although it hadn’t caused a problem so far. I didn’t expect Andrew to reply today as it was Sunday. We phoned Roksana at five o’clock, but the call went to her voicemail, so Oskar left a short message.

On Monday morning I took him food shopping, then after lunch, while he was playing, I printed a dozen of the nicest holiday photos of Oskar to give to his mother at contact. I then completed my review form and helped Oskar to complete his. I would take the forms with me to the review, rather than post them, to make sure they arrived in time, as the review was on Wednesday. There was now a marked difference in Oskar’s replies compared to his first review form, when he’d been scared, unhappy, anxious and harbouring the painful secret of the abuse he’d suffered. Now his replies were far more positive. He circled many more emojis with happy, smiling faces and wrote that he liked seeing his friend Leo, going to the gym and swimming. I said I’d take him swimming during the summer holidays and we could also arrange some play dates with Leo if he wished.

At five o’clock we telephoned Roksana and she answered straight away. Stressed, she told Oskar her plane had been delayed by over five hours and then cancelled, and she’d had to catch another, later flight and was now having to go to work having not had any sleep. Oskar remarked curtly that he was tired too and cut the call.