Cathy Glass - Another Forgotten Child

‘You’ve done what!’ Paula cried, staring at me in disbelief. ‘You’ve never agreed to take her? I don’t believe it! You haven’t thought about me at all! What about my feelings? I won’t be able to have any of my friends round and I won’t be able to study. How could you, Mum? There’s nothing else for it, you’re forcing me to move out.’ Paula turned and flounced out of the room and upstairs.

Well done, Cathy, I thought. You handled that well. Full marks for tact and diplomacy. ‘Paula!’ I called after her, but she’d disappeared into her bedroom and had shut the door. I knew better than to follow her; to try to talk to her now would do more harm than good. She needed some cooling-off time – as I did, too.

I was in the sitting room and I went over to the patio windows and looked out. It was the beginning of November and the garden was bare. The trees had lost their leaves and the sky was grey and overcast. Another English winter had begun and this year I would be spending it with a highly disturbed child, I acknowledged despondently. Perhaps Paula was right and I had made the wrong decision. For while I thought Paula had over-reacted – understandably, as she was seventeen and anxious about her forthcoming exams – I knew fostering Aimee would have a huge impact on us all. Supposing she didn’t settle as quickly as Jill had hoped; supposing the damage done to her was so great that I couldn’t help her. What then? Would Aimee follow the same downward spiral into mental illness as Jodie had, resulting in her going to live in a residential therapeutic unit? I didn’t think I could face all that again. It had been a nightmare for us all – to watch Jodie’s decline and not be able to do anything to help her.

Then, as if to darken my thoughts further, the phone rang and when I answered it was Aimee’s social worker, Kristen, with more horrors to share.

‘I thought I’d introduce myself,’ she began brightly, clearly relieved that she’d found a foster carer daft enough to take Aimee. ‘I’ll give you some more background information and also explain the arrangements for bringing Aimee to you on Thursday if we are granted the court order.’

‘If?’ I repeated. ‘Surely with Aimee’s history there’s no doubt you’ll be given the care order.’

‘We were in court two weeks ago but the case was adjourned,’ Kristen said. ‘Susan, Aimee’s mother, has a good barrister, but fingers crossed we’ll be granted the order this time.’

I sighed but didn’t say anything. Adjourning a case in care proceedings is not uncommon, and essentially means that the child stays at home to suffer more neglect and abuse, for longer.

‘Aimee’s parents won’t be told your contact details,’ Kristen continued. ‘Susan is opposed to her daughter coming into care and is angry. She’s also been working on Aimee and poisoning her mind against the move, and now Aimee is determined she won’t be taken away from her mother. Removing Aimee on Thursday is going to be fraught and I’ve notified the police. Aimee is likely to arrive at your place very upset and angry. She’ll need a bath – she’s filthy – and she has a bad infestation of head lice, which will need treating straightaway. She wouldn’t let her mother treat her hair and kicked her if she tried to comb it. But you’re a very experienced foster carer, so I’m sure you’ll find a way round this.’ Kristen stopped, expecting confirmation.

‘I expect I will,’ I said. ‘But why is Aimee so angry with her mother and behaving so badly? There’s always a reason why children behave as they do.’

‘I agree,’ Kristen said. ‘There’s a lot we don’t know in this case. I only took it over two months ago and I couldn’t understand why Aimee had been left at home for so long.’ Hearing a social worker admit that a case should have been handled differently – better – wasn’t unique; neither was shifting culpability. But Kristen wasn’t wholly to blame for Aimee not being brought into care sooner, as she’d only taken over the case recently. Doubtless, prior to her there had been many other social workers, all of whom had done their best and then, for any number of reasons, moved on. Frequent changes of social worker is not unusual but can be one of many reasons why children fall through the safety net of care.

‘Aimee has been spending time at both her parents’ flats,’ Kristen continued. ‘We believe that both flats have been used for drug dealing. The last time the police raided her mother’s flat they found used syringes close to where Aimee was sleeping on a mattress on the floor, but no drugs. Both flats are dirty and poorly furnished. When Susan can’t cope with Aimee she leaves her with anyone who will have her. Aimee can’t wash or dress herself, she wets the bed, and will only eat biscuits – she demands them. She can’t read or write – unsurprisingly, as she hardly ever goes to school. And a word of warning.’

‘Yes?’ I asked, wondering what else there could possibly be.

‘Aimee’s mother makes allegations against foster carers and she’s good at it, so practise your safer caring.’

‘I will,’ I said, as I realized this was going to be something else I’d have to contend with on top of looking after Aimee and trying to change her appalling behaviour.

‘Now, on Thursday,’ Kristen continued, ‘assuming we are granted the care order, we’ll take Aimee from school and bring her straight to you. She’ll just have the clothes she’s wearing. I’ll try to get her things another day when her mother is less angry, but don’t count on it. Her clothes are in shreds anyway. I assume you’ll have some emergency clothes to put her in?’

‘I should think so,’ I said. ‘What size is she?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t have kids.’

‘Is she of average build and height for an eight-year-old?’

‘I guess so, although she’s a bit overweight.’

‘OK. I’ll find something for her to wear, and then I’ll take her shopping on Friday for new clothes.’

‘We want her in school on Friday,’ Kristen said, ‘to keep some continuity going. Aimee hasn’t been at school much but she says she likes her teacher. It will be reassuring for Aimee to see her on Friday after all the trauma of Thursday.’

‘Which school does she attend?’

‘Hayward Primary School. It’s on the opposite side of the town to you. Do you know it?’

‘No, but I’ll find it.’

‘Well, I think that’s all for now,’ Kristen said. ‘I’m sure your support worker told you that you will need to set firm boundaries and a routine for Aimee. She’s had neither.’

‘I understand.’

‘Roll on next Thursday,’ Kristen sighed, as we wound up the conversation. ‘I’ll be pleased to get rid of this case. The mother is impossible to work with.’

‘You’re leaving, then?’ I asked, surprised.

‘No, but once Aimee is in care, the case will go from the children in need team to the children in care team.’ Which, although I knew to be current practice, would mean another change of social worker. It used to be that the social worker who had worked with the family stayed as the child’s social worker after the child was brought into care, but that changed some years ago with restructuring, resulting in further discontinuity.

With my thoughts even darker now after hearing more about Aimee’s neglect and her parents’ drug-fuelled background, Kristen and I said goodbye and I replaced the handset. I went upstairs. Paula should have had enough time to cool off now, and I tentatively knocked on her bedroom door. There was no reply, so I knocked again, and then slowly opened the door.

‘Can I come in?’ I asked, poking my head round the door. Paula was sitting on her bed, facing away from me and towards the window.