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

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PART 3 OF 3The true story of a 6-year-old boy with a dreadful secret.Oskar’s school teacher raises the alarm. Oskar’s mother is abroad and he has been left in the care of ‘friends’, but has been arriving in school hungry, unkempt, and with bruises on his arms, legs and body. Experienced foster carer Cathy Glass is asked to look after him, but as the weeks pass her concerns deepen. Oskar is far too quiet for a child of six and is clearly scared of something or someone.And who are those men parked outside his school watching him?

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Copyright Certain details in this story including names places and dates - фото 1

Copyright

Certain details in this story, including names, places and dates, have been changed to protect the family’s privacy.

HarperElement

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published by HarperElement 2020

FIRST EDITION

Text © Cathy Glass 2020

Cover layout design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2020

Cover photograph © Johner Images/Getty Images (posed by a model)

A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

Cathy Glass asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Find out about HarperCollins and the environment at

www.harpercollins.co.uk/green

Source ISBN: 9780008380380

Ebook Edition © February 2020 ISBN: 9780008380434

Version: 2019-12-18

Contents

1 Cover

2 Title Page

3 Copyright

4 Contents

5 Chapter Twenty-One: Good and Bad News

6 Chapter Twenty-Two: Adoption

7 Chapter Twenty-Three: Photographs

8 Chapter Twenty-Four: Break My Heart

9 Chapter Twenty-Five: Unsettled

10 Chapter Twenty-Six: Court Case

11 Chapter Twenty-Seven: Retiring?

12 Chapter Twenty-Eight: Leaving

13 Chapter Twenty-Nine: Unexpected News

14 Suggested topics for reading-group discussion

15 Cathy Glass

16 Moving Memoirs

17 Praise for Cathy Glass

18 About the Publisher

Landmarks CoverFrontmatterBackmatter

List of Pages v vi 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236237238239240241242243244245246247248249250251252253254255256257258259260261262263264265266267268269270271272273274275276277278279280281282283284285286287288289290291292293294295296297298299300301302303304305306307308309 311 iii

Chapter Twenty-One

Good and Bad News

Our holiday was everything we’d hoped for. Endless days of warm sunshine, clear blue skies, azure sea, golden sands, delicious food and buckets of the holiday spirit that makes people smile. Having said that, taking a child on holiday is obviously different to adults going away, as children need to be supervised the whole time, and large parts of the day are built around what they want to do. But Paula and I didn’t mind. It was a delight to see Oskar so carefree and enjoying himself. Paula, away from her college work, had time to chill on a sunbed too. Not having to cook was a luxury for me. We were all-inclusive, so breakfast, lunch and dinner were provided, buffet-style, in the dining room. All we had to do was arrive and choose what we wanted to eat. There was a fantastic choice and Oskar found plenty he liked and was willing to try new foods, including the local traditional dishes, which were delicious.

The beach was a few minutes’ walk away from the hotel, and the hotel had three swimming pools in its grounds, one designed for children with water activities. Oskar couldn’t swim – his class would be starting swimming lessons in the new term – so he was wearing armbands at present. Paula and I went in the water with him and as well as having fun we showed him some basic swimming strokes. He didn’t mind water splashing on his face and towards the end of the week he was attempting a few strokes unaided as long as we were close by. We spent most of our time either in this pool or at the beach, but one day we went on an organized trip to see more of the island. The tour included historic sites, a church, breath-taking scenery and a traditional market, where we bought presents to take back with us, including ones for Roksana and Luka.

I took plenty of photographs and would give Roksana copies at contact as I had been doing. It’s usual for foster carers to give the child’s family some photos, but previously Roksana, preoccupied as usual with her worries, had said thank you and tucked them into her bag rather than spending time going through them with Oskar. Hopefully she would show more enthusiasm with these, as they were of his first holiday.

I phoned Adrian and Lucy midweek as well as texting them, and Oskar told them excitedly all about swimming and what a great time he was having. They were pleased for him and interested in what he had to say. As was Luka, Aunty Dol, Uncle Ivan and his cousins when we phoned them. Sadly, his mother’s responses were often uninspiring, and she continued to share her problems with him. ‘I’ve just heard that my afternoon shifts have changed. I’ll need to sort that out when I get back,’ she told him once. Then another time, ‘I have to email your social worker and tell him when I’m returning to the UK.’

Oskar didn’t want to be reminded of his social worker when on holiday. ‘Bye, Mum,’ he said, and cut the call.

I wasn’t going to phone back as he’d spoken to everyone, but a few minutes later my mobile rang and I was surprised to hear Roksana’s voice. She wasn’t supposed to have my contact details, then I realized what I’d done – or rather not done. At home I used the landline to call her, which was set permanently to private number. I must have forgotten to do the same with my mobile. Hopefully it wouldn’t cause a problem, but I’d need to let Andrew know.

‘Can you tell Oskar that his abusers have been caught,’ she wanted to tell me.

‘Oh, thank you. Good. I’m pleased,’ I said.

‘So am I.’

‘Did you want to speak to Oskar again?’

‘No, you can tell him.’ And she said goodbye.

‘Was that Mummy?’ Oskar asked. We were in the hotel room.

‘Yes. Those men who abused you have been caught,’ I said, and then wished I hadn’t.

His face fell and I saw the sadness and pain return to his eyes, which I hadn’t seen the whole time we’d been away.

‘So there is nothing for you to worry about,’ I added quickly, and changed the subject.

Each evening after dinner there was an hour’s family entertainment, beginning at eight o’clock. The three of us went and then afterwards returned to our hotel room. There was entertainment later for adults too, but I didn’t feel comfortable using the hotel child-minding service and Paula wasn’t fussed about seeing the cabaret or going to the disco. Once Oskar was in bed, Paula and I either read or listened to music on our headphones. The room had a king-size bed, which Paula and I slept in, and a single bed in the recess, which Oskar had. There was enough space for another single bed, as the room could sleep four. Oskar changed in the bathroom and slept like a log, as did Paula and I. But all too soon the week came to an end and it was time for us to pack up and return home. Not only had we had a lovely, relaxing time, but I felt it had helped cement our family bond, as holidays can do.

Roksana hadn’t telephoned again since the evening I’d inadvertently divulged my mobile number, but on Saturday, as we were waiting at the airport for our flight to be called, she texted: I have an early flight back on Monday so I’ll see Oskar Tuesday .

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