Cathy Glass - Where Has Mummy Gone? - Part 1 of 3 - A young girl and a mother who no longer knows her

‘And her father?’ I asked. Knowledge of the family helps the foster carer.

‘They don’t live together. It’s unclear if Melody sees him at all. He’s also an intravenous drug user. Both parents have served prison sentences for drug dealing.’ Which again I’d heard before. ‘Melody has four older half-siblings, different fathers. All those children were taken into care and then adopted years ago.’

‘Why leave it so long to bring Melody into care?’ I asked, almost sure of the answer.

‘Her mother, Amanda, is very good at evading the social services,’ Jill said. ‘She has been moving flats regularly and doesn’t answer the door when a social worker visits, or she gets someone else to say they don’t live there. The social worker only got access yesterday because the main door was open. It’s a multiple-occupancy house and their room is in the basement. The room was freezing, and Melody and her mother were watching television in bed with their coats on.’

‘Dear me,’ I sighed.

‘Amanda has been funding her drug habit from prostitution. If she’s brought the clients back to her room, there is a possibility Melody has witnessed her mother with them, and might even have been sexually abused herself. So be vigilant for any disclosures she may make. Oh yes, and she has nits,’ Jill added. This was common for children coming into care.

‘I assume Melody won’t be returning home?’

‘Highly unlikely. The social services intend to apply for a Full Care Order, so she will remain in care.’ Sad though this was, in cases like these there really was no alternative. It was too early to say if Melody would have the chance of being adopted, but aged eight and with behavioural problems it was unlikely.

‘So, Cathy,’ Jill said, rounding off, ‘that’s it really. Neave, the social worker, will phone once she’s left court, then she and a colleague will take a police officer to collect Melody from home and come to you. I’ll try to be with you when she is placed.’

‘Thank you.’ Jill, as my supervising social worker, offered support and made sure I had all the information I needed and the correct placement forms were signed when a child was placed.

‘See you later then,’ she said, and we said goodbye.

Yes, it was a depressingly familiar story, which I was sure I’d heard before about many children brought into care. As it turned out, I couldn’t have been more wrong. There was another side to Melody’s story, which at this point no one knew.

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