Cathy Glass - I Miss Mummy - The true story of a frightened young girl who is desperate to go home

HarperElement

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www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published by HarperElement 2010

Copyright © Cathy Glass 2010

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

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

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Source ISBN: 9780007267446

Ebook Edition © JULY 2010 ISBN: 9780007389803

Version: 2017-01-16

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter One: Desperate

Chapter Two: Am I to Blame?

Chapter Three: Stretched to the Limit

Chapter Four: Normal?

Chapter Five: ‘Mummy Things’

Chapter Six: Sleeping with Wolves

Chapter Seven: Accused

Chapter Eight: When Can I See My Mummy?

Chapter Nine: Pass the Parcel!

Chapter Ten: Brian the Bear

Chapter Eleven: Precious

Chapter Twelve: A New Mummy

Chapter Thirteen: Placement Meeting

Chapter Fourteen: A Beam of Love

Chapter Fifteen: A Dreadful Mistake?

Chapter Sixteen: Breaking the Rules

Chapter Seventeen: Warm and Cosy Inside

Chapter Eighteen: Bad Practice

Chapter Nineteen: A Quick Fix

Chapter Twenty: Nail in the Coffin

Chapter Twenty-One: Kitty-cat

Chapter Twenty-Two: ‘Just One Line’

Chapter Twenty-Three: Hunger Strike

Chapter Twenty-Four: Rejected

Chapter Twenty-Five: ‘Icing Sugar’

Chapter Twenty-Six: Happy Sand

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Letter

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Judge’s Decision

Chapter Twenty-Nine: A Milestone Missed

Chapter Thirty: Torn Apart

Chapter Thirty-One: Don’t You Want Me?

Chapter Thirty-Two: Love from Mummy

Chapter Thirty-Three: Expecting an Ogre

Chapter Thirty-Four: Don’t Make Me Go!

Chapter Thirty-Five: Very Disappointed

Chapter Thirty-Six: A New Year’s Wish

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Ten Days

Chapter Thirty-Eight: You Can Say No

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Adoption

Chapter Forty: Finding Home

Chapter Forty-One: Moving On

Author’s Note

Epilogue

Exclusive sample chapter

Cathy Glass

Moving Memoirs eNewsletter

About the Publisher

‘Mum has snatched her! The police are looking for them now. Goodness knows where they could have gone! They’re not at home.’

I could hear the anxiety and panic in the social worker’s voice on the other end of the phone, and I appreciated why. From the little I knew of the child’s mother, I knew she was very unstable, with ongoing mental health problems, compounded by drug addiction. I also knew she was fiercely opposed to having her daughter taken into care and had been fighting the social services for three months to stop it. But while no one wants to see a child forcibly removed from home, sometimes there is no alternative if the child is to be kept from harm.

‘When did this happen?’ I asked, equally concerned.

‘Two hours ago. They can’t have got far. The police have circulated a description of them, and the ports and airports have been alerted. No one could have foreseen this happening – otherwise we’d have taken Alice sooner.’

Alice was the little four-year-old I’d been expecting all afternoon. I’d been told the day before that the social services were going to court in the morning to ask the judge to grant an ICO (Interim Care Order) so that Alice could be brought into foster care. I knew from the referral (the print-out that gives the child’s basic details) that both her parents were drug users, and because neither of them could look after Alice she’d been staying with her maternal grandparents. I also remembered reading that Alice attended nursery from 9.00 a.m. to 3.15 p.m. every day.

‘Was Alice snatched from her nursery?’ I asked, puzzled, aware of the high security that now surrounds schools.

There was a slight hesitation. ‘No. The head teacher phoned the social services first thing this morning to say Alice wasn’t in nursery. When we went to the grandparents’ home after court this morning, to collect Alice, she wasn’t there.’

Now, I don’t think I’ve got incredible insight but if I’d been a social worker I think I might have heard alarm bells ringing if the child I was about to bring into care was suddenly absent from nursery on the morning of the court case.

‘We think the grandparents may have colluded in their granddaughter’s abduction,’ the social worker added. ‘They’re being interviewed by the police now, and I’m going to see them soon. I’ll phone you again later.’

‘All right. Thanks for letting me know. I do hope you find Alice soon.’

‘So do I,’ the social worker said. ‘And that she’s found safe.’

I replaced the receiver and returned to the kitchen, where I had been preparing dinner. It was 5.30 p.m. and I’d been expecting Alice at 1.00. The apprehension and nervousness which I’d been feeling all afternoon, and indeed which I always felt when waiting for a new child to arrive, now developed into full anxiety. Although I’d never met Alice, and had only the briefest of details, I knew enough to be very worried. Her mother, mentally unstable and possibly under the influence of drugs, had snatched her daughter in a desperate bid to keep her, and was now on the run. Who knew what was going through that mother’s mind or what she might do in desperation? News headlines flashed across my anxious thoughts: Mum leaps off bridge with daughter, Mum and daughter found dead. My morbid speculations were far fetched, but such things do happen, particularly when a parent is desperate or under the influence of drugs.

Ten minutes later the phone rang and I snatched it up, hoping it was news that Alice had been found safe and well. But it was Jill, my link worker from the agency I fostered for. In her voice I could hear the anxiety that I’d heard in the social worker’s, and which I now felt.

‘Did the social worker phone you?’ Jill asked. ‘I told her to contact you directly as soon as she heard anything. I’ve been in a meeting all afternoon.’

‘She phoned a short while ago, but they haven’t found Alice yet, although the police are out looking.’

‘Poor child,’ Jill said with a heartfelt sigh. ‘Poor mum.’

‘I know. But her mother must realize she can’t get away with it. They’ll be found eventually, and snatching her daughter is hardly going to count in her favour.’

‘Mum won’t have thought it through,’ Jill said. ‘With her level of problems she’ll have acted on impulse and won’t be thinking rationally.’ Which did nothing to ease my fear for mother’s and daughter’s safety. ‘Martha, the social worker, asked me if it was all right if they bring Alice straight to you when she’s found, assuming she doesn’t need hospital treatment, even if it’s out of office hours. I said I thought it would be.’