Cathy Glass - Girl Alone - Joss came home from school to discover her father’s suicide. Angry and hurting, she’s out of control.

‘Good.’

I guessed that Joss would want to go out again on Sunday, as previous carers had complained that she went out as soon as she was dressed and didn’t return until after midnight, and then she was too tired to get up for school on Monday morning. Joss had been out both Friday and Saturday evening, so I thought it was reasonable that she spent Sunday with us. I look upon Sundays as family time, as many others do, and I like us to try to spend most of it together, as a family, which obviously includes the child or children I am fostering. When my children were little I used to arrange an activity on a Sunday, visiting a park or place of interest, or seeing family or friends, but now they were older I accepted that they didn’t always want to be organized every weekend and liked to spend time just chilling. However, we hadn’t been out together the previous two Sundays, so I thought a family outing now would be nice for everyone, including Joss. Doing things together encourages bonding and helps improve family relationships – something Joss was a bit short on. I knew Adrian would want to do some exam revision first, so I would make it for the afternoon only. I racked my brains for an activity that wasn’t too far away, preferable outdoors as the weather was good, and that they’d all enjoy. I came up with the Tree Top Adventure Park. It was an assault course set in the treetops of a forest about half an hour’s drive away. It had zip wires, swing bridges and rope ladders, and was suitable for ages ten and above. I’d taken my children before but not for a while. I mentioned it to Lucy and Paula first, who liked the idea, and then to Adrian, who agreed that taking the afternoon off would be fine.

Then I knocked on Joss’s door.

‘Yeah? Come in!’ she called from inside.

She was propped up on her bed using the headboard for support, earphones in, and flicking through a magazine. I motioned for her to take out an earphone so she could hear me, then I explained about the proposed outing, emphasizing how much fun it would be and that it was suitable for teenagers, girls and boys. ‘You’ll need to wear something a bit looser than those tight jeans,’ I suggested, ‘so you can climb. And trainers rather than sandals.’

‘Nah, it’s OK,’ she said, returning her attention to the magazine. ‘You can go. I’ll stay here.’

‘Joss, I’d like you to come with us, so would the girls and Adrian. While you’re here you’re part of this family and it’s nice to do things together as a family sometimes.’

‘Nah, thanks,’ she said. ‘I’m OK.’

‘I want you to come, Joss,’ I said.

She looked up. ‘If you don’t trust me here alone I can go out and meet up with my mates. That’s what I did when the other carers went out.’

‘But I won’t do that,’ I said more firmly. ‘I would like you to come. It’s just for the afternoon and I’ve chosen an activity you’ll like.’

‘What if I don’t like it?’ Joss said. She challenged me on everything if she had a mind to.

‘Then you’ll put it down to experience and won’t ever go again. But at least you will have tried it.’

‘Nah,’ she said again. ‘It’s not my thing.’ She went back to the magazine and flipped a couple of pages.

There was no way I was leaving Joss alone in the house having heard about the mischief she’d got up to at her previous carers’ when she’d been left alone – underage drinking and smoking dope with friends, the house trashed and the police called. Neither was I agreeing to her going out and spending the afternoon on the streets, with the potential for getting into more trouble. Apart from which, I wanted Joss to come with us as part of the family and have a good time.

‘I think you’ll enjoy it,’ I said.

‘Nah. I won’t,’ she said.

I took a breath. It was hard work. ‘OK, Joss, the bottom line is: you come with us, which is what I would like, or I can take you to another foster carer for the afternoon.’ I knew carers who would help me out if necessary, as I would help them, but whether they were available at such short notice on a Sunday, I didn’t know. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to put it to the test.

‘I don’t want to go to another carer,’ Joss moaned, her face setting.

‘I don’t want you to go either. I want you to come with us.’ I smiled.

‘Is it only for the afternoon?’

‘Yes. We’ll leave here around twelve-ish and we’ll be back about six.’

‘OK. You win. Again,’ she said. ‘But I won’t enjoy myself. I’ll be miserable all afternoon.’

‘Joss, I bet you two pounds you do enjoy yourself. If you do, you’ll win; if not, I win.’

It took her a moment to work this out and then she smiled.

Despite her appalling behaviour and bravado, I liked Joss. I felt that underneath there was a nice kid trying to get out. I appreciated that losing her father in such tragic circumstances and then not getting on with her stepfather was a bad deal, but I was hoping that coming to live with me would give her the chance to sort her life out.

Joss did thoroughly enjoy herself at the Tree Top Adventure Park, despite staying in the very tight jeans that pinched her legs when she climbed. She was confident and tackled even the very high walks, wires, swings and ladders fearlessly. So much so that the supervisors stationed throughout the park warned her a few times to take it more steadily or she could fall and injure herself. But then, of course, that was part of Joss’s problem. She had no sense of danger. Paula and Lucy took the course together at a steadier pace, and Adrian met a friend from school and they went off together. I completed one circuit and then sat on a bench in the shade of the trees reading my book and also watching the young people having fun. By six o’clock they were all tired and hot and sitting with me in the shade eating ice creams. Our tickets allowed us to stay until the park closed at eight o’clock, but everyone agreed they were ready to go. As we left, Joss actually asked if we could come again.

‘We could,’ I said. ‘But there are other fun places to go on a day out.’

‘But I like it here. I’ve had a good time,’ she said.

‘Great. You win the bet,’ I said. I handed her the two pounds.

On the way home we picked up a takeaway, and after we’d eaten Adrian resumed his studies, Lucy and Paula went up to Paula’s room and Joss went to hers. I was just congratulating myself on a successful day when Joss appeared in the living room. I knew straight away from her expression she was in challenge mode. ‘As I did what you wanted me to this afternoon, can I go out now?’ she said.

‘No, Joss. Not tonight, love. You were out Friday and Saturday, and you have school tomorrow. It’s already seven-thirty.’

‘I’ll be back by ten. Just for a couple of hours.’

‘No, not tonight. Two nights out over the weekend is plenty.’

‘But that’s not fair.’

‘I think it is fair, but you can raise it with your social worker tomorrow if you wish.’

‘I fucking will!’ she said, stamping her foot. ‘And you can’t stop my pocket money now, because you’ve already given it to me! Cow!’

She stormed out of the living room and upstairs into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. I felt my heart start racing. Another confrontation. It was so stressful. But I reminded myself that at least she was doing what I’d asked and was staying in, which was a huge improvement. At her previous carers’ she’d come and gone as she’d liked, often defying them when they said she had to stay in. Foster carers (and care-home staff) are not allowed to lock a child in the house or physically prevent them from leaving, even if it is for the child’s own good. It’s considered imprisonment. With your own child you’d do anything within reason to keep them safe, and I think the whole area of what a carer can and can’t do to keep a young person safe is something that needs to be looked into, with practical guidelines set up.