Casey Watson - Skin Deep

‘Mrs Watson … um … your mummy … is absolutely right,’ he said. ‘In fact, Miss Carter’s class is the most fun in the whole school, Flip, and you’ll still get to play with … um … the brothers?’ He glanced at me, confused.

‘My grandsons,’ I quickly supplied. ‘Levi and Jackson. They’re both here, and that’s how Flip refers to them.’

‘Because they are my brothers,’ she added, her anxiety seemingly now forgotten.

‘Ah,’ Mr Stancliffe said, ‘yes, yes, of course . Well, you’ll get to play with them at playtime – and lunchtime, of course – and I’m sure you’ll get to wait for them at home time.’ He leaned towards her. ‘I promise you, you will love it in Miss Carter’s group.’

It was a lot to live up to, but Miss Carter looked equal to the task. She stood up and held out a hand towards Flip. ‘Why don’t you and I go and have a sneaky peek at your new classroom, eh, Flip? You can meet the other children, and do you know what? I bet you anything you make a best friend forever this very morning. Don’t worry,’ she added, seeing Flip’s worried look. ‘Your mum can come and see you before she leaves.’

I encouraged Flip to go by producing Pink Barbie, who, unbeknown to Flip, I had slipped into my handbag before we left. ‘I’m sure Barbie will be allowed just for today,’ I said, glancing at Miss Carter hopefully. ‘Just to see your new school.’

I then had to force a smile as I watched Flip leave the office, glancing back at me anxiously as she left. Bless her heart. She looked absolutely terrified.

I ended up spending the best part of an hour with the headteacher, trying to give him a bit of insight as to what he might expect from Flip; what sort of background was involved, how she’d been since she’d come to us, the problems of lack of attachments, her meltdowns and her tendency to wander, plus the fact – and to his credit, he didn’t look too traumatised – that as of tomorrow she was off her Ritalin for a month. I hurried on, then, to what long-term plans had been tentatively put in place.

‘Essentially to get her placed with a long-term foster family,’ I told him. ‘Or, ideally, an adoptive one, obviously.’ I smiled. ‘Well, once we’ve managed to socialise her a bit, at any rate.’ I paused then. Better I do it now than have it – literally – come out once I’d gone. ‘There is one other issue I should make you aware of, Mr Stancliffe.’

He raised his eyebrows quizzically. ‘Which is?’

‘That it seems she’s never been properly potty-trained.’

I could see his brain whirring, wondering perhaps if I’d delivered her in a nappy. ‘Which means?’

‘Which means we’re working on it, but she does need reminding to go to the toilet and, to some extent, if it’s feasible, er … accompanying. Which is why I’m so pleased that you’ve decided to start her off in your nurture group,’ I rattled on. ‘Because it’ll make the process altogether easier, won’t it?’

I mentally apologised to poor Miss Carter as I said that, but, again, Mr Stancliffe seemed to take it all in his stride.

‘Right,’ he said, scribbling down something on the pad in front of him. ‘Right.’

He put his pen down.

‘So she’s effectively an unknown quantity as of tomorrow,’ he said finally.

I nodded. ‘Well, I suppose, yes. We’re doing this blind. All I know is that her medication doesn’t seem to have any impact on her. She’s just the same with it as when it wears off. My GP is hoping that it’s the meds that are making her so erratic, and that after some time off from them she might settle down a bit. That’s the plan, anyway. We’ll just have to see. You never know – it might even help with the soiling.’

I saw his nose wrinkle, almost imperceptibly, but definitely. ‘Ri-ight,’ he said again, then cleared his throat decisively. ‘As you probably already know, Mrs Watson, we did tell the local authority that we were at full capacity here.’ I nodded. ‘And that, like yours with her medication, this is going to be something of a trial. If we can’t fully meet her needs, we’d be doing her a disservice if we held on to her. I’m sure you’d agree.’

I did. On both counts. The word ‘trial’ had more than one meaning, after all. So after I’d gone and blown a kiss goodbye to Flip, who I could see through the classroom window now seemed be enjoying herself enormously with Miss Carter, I crossed both pairs of fingers on both of my hands. And then crossed my thumbs for good measure.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.