Cathy Glass - A Baby’s Cry

‘Yes?’ I called back from the kitchen, pausing from preparing the vegetables. ‘What is it?’

‘Someone’s watching the house.’

I immediately put down what I was doing and went round to the front room. Although Adrian was a nine-year-old boy with a good imagination his worries needed to be taken seriously. I entered the front room and crossed to the bay window. ‘Where?’ I asked, joining him and Paula behind the net curtains.

‘There!’ Adrian pointed.

I looked across the road to the woman standing on the opposite side of the street a few houses up. She was of medium height and build and was dressed in beige summer trousers and a short-sleeved blouse. She wasn’t looking at our house now, but up the street as if she might be waiting for someone. Her face was turned slightly away, so I could only see her profile, but it suggested someone in her late twenties or early thirties with chin-length dark hair.

‘She’s been standing there for ages,’ Adrian said.

‘She’s probably waiting for someone,’ I said. ‘What makes you think she’s watching our house?’

‘She keeps staring over here,’ Adrian said, with the same mixture of excitement and anxiety. ‘She’s stopped now. But she’s been there all the time we’ve been watching for Nana and Grandpa.’

As I looked the woman did indeed look over and possibly at our house or the house next door, but it was no more than a cursory glance before she continued looking up and then down the street.

‘There! Told you,’ Adrian said.

‘She just glanced over,’ I said. ‘I’m sure she’s waiting for someone. There’s nothing to worry about.’

‘It’s all those silly spy comics he reads,’ Paula put in.

‘No, it isn’t,’ Adrian returned.

At that moment my parents’ car drew up and Adrian immediately forgot the woman as he and Paula rushed into the hall, where they waited for me to open the front door. Before my parents were out of the car we were on the pavement welcoming them, and the woman was walking up the street, presumably to meet the friend she’d been waiting for.

We had a lovely afternoon with my parents. Mum chatted to me in the kitchen as we put the finishing touches to dinner. Then after we’d eaten we all went in the garden, as the weather was warm and dry. Mum and Dad were soon as besotted with Harrison as we were, and Harrison spent most of the afternoon on one of their laps being cuddled and fussed over. Mum naturally asked me why Harrison’s mother couldn’t look after him and I replied honestly that I didn’t know. Mum helped me bath Harrison while Dad played badminton in the garden with Adrian and Paula. It was seven o’clock before my parents left, and once they’d gone the children began their bath and bedtime routine, ready for school the following day.

The following week was very busy and flew by. I drove Adrian and Paula to and from school each day. On Tuesday I took Harrison to the clinic to be weighed – he’d put on four ounces, which the health visitor entered in his red book. On Wednesday I had foster carer training run by Homefinders fostering agency, who also provided a crèche so that Harrison was looked after in the room next door while I attended the course. On Thursday I went to Adrian and Paula’s school sports day with Harrison in his pram. He slept for a while and then when the cheering and applauding woke him I held him in my arms so that he could see what was going on. So many outdoor activities in the UK rely on the weather for their success and the weather stayed fine that afternoon, so the annual sports day was a great success.

By the end of the week I felt I had established a good working routine with Harrison and although I was tired – from having two three-hour sleeps instead of one of seven hours – I knew from the experience of having Adrian and Paula that in a few months Harrison should, I hoped, no longer need his 2.00 a.m. feed and sleep through. And to be honest I didn’t mind the early-hours feed, as I hadn’t minded it with Adrian and Paula. I found something quite serene and magical in sitting in bed by the light of the lamp with Harrison in my arms – the two of us quietly alone while the rest of the world slept. It was an oasis of calm and peace in an otherwise busy schedule and Harrison’s little smile when he was full, and his gurgles of contentment as he lay in his cot before falling asleep, more than compensated for any tiredness I felt.

I thought nothing more of the woman we’d seen in our street on Sunday and the week drew to a close with much excitement from Adrian and Paula, as there was only one week left until school ended for summer, or as Adrian put it: ‘Freedom! For six whole weeks.’ He was also in the end-of-year play, which the school staged in the final week. This year they were putting on The Jungle Book and Adrian was one of the vultures. He’d been practising his lines with a Liverpudlian accent at every opportunity: What do you want to do? Don’t know. What do you want to do? Don’t know, etc.

I was, therefore, starting to feel that life was running smoothly again and I needn’t have worried so much about looking after a baby, as I’d successfully accommodated Harrison into our family with minimum disruption to Adrian and Paula. Indeed, they were enjoying helping me look after him and easily forgave him if he was fractious or woke them at night. However, on Saturday morning my complacency and feelings of well-being were shaken.

I opened the front door, ready to leave with the children to go shopping, and became vaguely aware that there was someone on the opposite side of the street. I didn’t think anything of it to begin with, as I was concentrating on Harrison and checking I’d remembered to bring my shopping list, keys and purse, while Adrian and Paula stood behind me in the hall, ready to follow me out. Then I looked up and my heart missed a beat. Although she was dressed in different clothes, I was sure it was the same woman Adrian had spotted the previous Sunday. She was standing in the same place and seemed to be looking over at our house. As soon as she saw me she turned and headed up the street, walking quickly away just as she had done on Sunday.

Closing the front door and with my heart racing I put Harrison, who was in his car seat, on the floor. Could she be connected with Harrison? Had my contact details accidentally been released? It had happened before. Could she possibly be Harrison’s mother? Then something else occurred to me that made my heart thump loudly and my mouth go dry. If a child is in care under an Emergency Protection Order or Full Care Order where there are concerns for the child’s safety then the foster carer’s contact details are not given to the parents. However, Harrison was in care under a Section 20 and I knew that usually with a Section 20 the parent(s) are given the foster carer’s contact details. While Cheryl had stressed that no one knew where Harrison was, it now occurred to me that that might not have included Harrison’s mother or father.

Adrian and Paula, who hadn’t seen the woman this time but had seen me open and close the door, were now looking at me questioningly. ‘Will you keep an eye on Harrison for a minute, please?’ I said. ‘I need to make a quick phone call.’

I left the children entertaining Harrison in his car seat, while I went down the hall to use the telephone in the sitting room. I closed the door to the sitting room so that the children couldn’t hear, as I didn’t want to worry them. Perching on the sofa and wondering if I was over-reacting I dialled Homefinders’ office number. As it was Saturday I knew the call would be re-routed through to the agency’s social worker who was on duty that weekend. A moment later a male voice answered and I recognized it as Michael’s.