Cathy Glass - Innocent - Part 2 of 3 - The True Story of Siblings Struggling to Survive

Once home, Adrian unpacked the car and helped put away the groceries, and then after lunch he went to see Kirsty. Lucy went out too later, and once Paula had finished her college work she came downstairs and joined me to play with Molly and Kit. I saw her looking at them a little sadly, clearly deep in thought.

‘It must be awful for their parents at the weekend,’ she said. ‘Having all that time to fill without their children.’

‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘And for Aneta it’s during the week too. Her husband worked long hours so for most of the day and evening there was just her and Molly and Kit.’ I hardly dared think about it: to be a full-time mother, when your life revolved around your children – your reason for living – and then to suddenly have them taken away was the stuff of nightmares. Little wonder Aneta had needed a sedative.

‘Do you think she did hurt them?’ Paula presently asked. I’d told my family what they needed to know about the reasons the children were in care.

‘I honestly don’t know, but clearly the social services think so. Ultimately, the judge will decide.’

‘I hope they get it right,’ Paula said, worried.

‘So do I.’

Usually, in respect of the children I fostered I felt the right decision had been made to bring them into care, but with Molly and Kit I harboured doubts. However, as the foster carer, I didn’t have all the information the social services had, and my job was to look after the children, log anything relevant and basically do as I was told, not question decisions.

That night both children slept well again and I felt we had turned a corner, in their sleeping at least. Yes, they would have restless nights from time to time as all children do, but we had established a bedtime routine that was working. I think sleeping apart was helping too, as they didn’t wake each other.

I took the food diary with us to my mother’s on Sunday so I could add to it during the day. I’d booked a table at a pub restaurant not far from where she lived. We drove in convoy to her house, the children, Lucy and me in my car – the smell of disinfectant still lingering – and Adrian, Kirsty and Paula in his car. Mum lives about an hour’s drive away and Lucy fed CDs of children’s songs into the player to keep them amused.

Mum was overjoyed to see us all and completely taken by Molly and Kit, as I knew she would be. They took to her too. She’s everybody’s idea of what a grandmother should be: kind, caring, gentle, loving, attentive and with plenty of time for everyone. Molly was a little quiet to begin with but soon thawed out and from then on monopolized Mum. It wasn’t long before Kit had scrambled onto her lap, where he stayed while she tried to talk to us.

I made us coffee and cold drinks for the children, and then just before one o’clock we drove to the restaurant. It was very popular for Sunday lunch and was buzzing with conversation. Adrian lifted Kit into the high chair provided and he and Kirsty sat either side of him. We sat Molly on a booster seat opposite Kit and between Lucy and Paula. I sat next to Mum so we could have a chat. On the floor by my chair was what had become known as The Bag. It contained Kit’s nappies and changing paraphernalia, drinks and a change of clothes for both children, a few books and small toys to keep them amused, and of course the food diary. I explained to Mum about the food diary and that I noted everything they ate. They both had the children’s Sunday roast, which contained plenty of food neither of them had eaten before with me – like stuffing and mashed parsnips. For dessert they had the children’s trifle, which seemed to be mainly fruit set in orange jelly and topped with whipped cream. I noted it all down, and the blackcurrant drink that came with their meals.

We returned to Mum’s for the afternoon and I watched both children carefully for any signs of illness. I tried to do it surreptitiously, as I didn’t want to worry Mum, but certainly my family were aware it was possible that one or both children could fall ill at any time. It was very worrying. However, the afternoon passed without any sign of them being sick and when we said goodbye at six o’clock they were still well. By bedtime I was certain that all those new foods could be eliminated from causing their allergic reactions.

On Monday, when I took Molly and Kit to the Family Centre, Tess was already in Blue Room to observe contact. Filip, Aneta and the contact supervisor were there too, so I said a general hello and, having seen the children in, I left. When I returned at the end I sensed an atmosphere and as soon as Aneta saw me she grabbed the children and held them tightly to her. I knew we were going to have a scene and I immediately felt anxious. The contact supervisor was writing, and Tess was watching Aneta. Filip was tidying away the last of the toys.

‘Time to go,’ Tess said eventually, but Aneta clung tightly to Molly and Kit.

‘They’re mine,’ she said to me. ‘You can’t have them. Go away and leave us alone.’

I remained where I was, just inside the door, unsure whether to wait or step outside. Then Tess said to me so everyone could hear, ‘Aneta has been a bit upset because you’ve taken the children out. Molly has been talking about the park and going to Nana’s. I’ve explained that while children are in care it is expected that the foster carer takes them on family outings.’

I was sorry that Aneta was upset, but what Tess had told her was true – while Molly and Kit were with me they were part of my family and would join in all family activities, including days out and holidays.

Aneta was still clinging to her children and it was clearly upsetting them. Molly began to cry. ‘I don’t want to go!’ Which of course upset Kit.

‘Perhaps you could take them to Cathy,’ Tess said to Filip.

He went over to the sofa where Aneta was huddled with the children. ‘Time to go,’ he said firmly. ‘We’ll see you both on Wednesday.’ Scooping them up, he brought them to me and set them down, more confident in his role as father now.

‘Don’t forget this,’ the contact supervisor called, and brought over a small carrier bag containing their unfinished drinks and biscuits.

‘Thank you.’

Filip kissed Molly and Kit goodbye. ‘Love you both,’ he said. Aneta stayed on the sofa, looking miserable and wiping her eyes. I felt sorry for her, but Molly and Kit had to go.

‘See you Wednesday,’ I said, and we left.

Molly began to cry loudly for her mother and I thought that if being upset was causing the children to be sick then it was going to happen now. Outside I calmed them both down before we got into the car, and then drove home, every so often glancing at them in the rear-view mirror. They weren’t sick, and by the time we arrived home they were both happy to see Paula. However, the next day, Tuesday, when there was no contact, half an hour after lunch both children were sick. I had a feeling I knew what had caused it.

Once I’d cleaned them up, I looked at the food diary and, as I thought, the only new food they’d had for lunch was the shop-bought fish cakes. I took the packet from the freezer and examined the list of ingredients. In addition to the white fish, they were covered in a breadcrumb coating, which in this brand contained additives: flavour enhancers, food colouring and preservatives. I knew that some of these could trigger allergic reactions in some children. I noted them all down and in future would check on food labels for these. A very small number of children are allergic to a whole range of additives that have been passed by the Food Standards Agency and cause no problems for most of us. I didn’t think that was so for Molly and Kit, and I felt it was only a matter of time before I identified which additives affected them.