Will You Love Me?

by Cathy Glass

  Every evening when Leon, Maggie’s husband, came home from work they ate around a large circular table, with a spotlessly clean tablecloth and cutlery that gleamed. Dinner was a sociable event, with everyone talking and laughing, sharing their news and catching up on the day’s events – it was unlike anything Bonnie had experienced before. To begin with she felt uneasy and slightly intimidated by this noisy family and ate in silence, but gradually she began to relax and join in the conversation, although she never had that much to say. Leon did most of the talking and was a great storyteller. Bonnie loved to listen to him; to her, he was a proper dad and far removed from the men her mother had brought home. He was from a large Jamaican family and was used to accommodating members of the extended family, so he was relaxed about Bonnie and Lucy staying. He worked at the bus depot as a mechanic, servicing and repairing the council’s fleet of buses, while Maggie, primarily a homemaker, supplemented their income by working lunchtimes as a canteen supervisor at the local primary school. Liza soon forgot her grievances at having to share her room and happily traded in the lack of space and privacy for the novelty of helping to look after baby Lucy, who rarely cried at night now she was warm and fed. To Bonnie, her aunt’s family was the ideal family, like the ones you saw on television at Christmas, and she would have loved to have stayed for ever.

  That first morning after Bonnie had arrived, Maggie insisted they take Lucy to the doctor’s for a check-up. She registered both Bonnie and Lucy at her doctor’s as temporary patients, living at her address. The doctor checked Lucy’s heart, chest and stomach; asked Bonnie a number of questions about the illness and if Lucy was up-to-date with her immunizations, to which Bonnie replied that she ‘thought so’. The doctor said he would check on the system and a card would be sent to her if there were any vaccinations outstanding. He also said Lucy’s sickness and diarrhoea was very likely ‘a bug’ and, as long as the vomiting and diarrhoea didn’t return, she would be fine and he needn’t see her again. While Bonnie was relieved that Lucy had been pronounced fit and well, she was concerned that her details were now on the system and that a health visitor might call.

  ‘Don’t worry, girl,’ Maggie told her, when Bonnie voiced her concerns. ‘Health visitors help mothers with their babies. It’s nothing for you to worry about. You’re not in any trouble.’ Although, of course, Maggie wasn’t aware of the shocking conditions Bonnie and Lucy had been living in prior to coming to her, nor that the social services had been alerted and that a social worker had called at the launderette and found her gone.

  During Bonnie’s stay, Maggie looked after her as she would a daughter. She fed and clothed her, and gave her pocket money in exchange for her helping with the chores around the house as the other children did. She showed Bonnie how to cook basic meals, established a routine for Lucy and began to teach her how to play with her daughter to stimulate her – of which Bonnie had no idea. Maggie also began weaning Lucy properly – by introducing her to small nutritious meals, which she mashed down. Bonnie was happy to accept her aunt’s advice and Maggie formed the opinion that Bonnie was able to successfully parent Lucy, for as she said to Leon: ‘While Bonnie isn’t the sharpest pencil in the pencil case, she loves her baby and has an inbuilt survival kit.’

  Staying at Maggie’s not only showed Bonnie what a proper family life was, but also gave her new skills. For the first time in her life Bonnie felt wanted rather than something that had to be tolerated – as she’d felt at her mother’s and later in her relationships with men. Realizing the gaping chasm between her life and that of her cousins, Bonnie grew increasingly angry with her mother, for not only had she failed to provide the basics, but she’d allowed her to be abused. She said so to Maggie and then one morning, when there was just the two of them at home, Bonnie asked Maggie if she could use the phone to call her mother, and Maggie agreed.

  Maggie was in another room but she could hear Bonnie clearly as her voice quickly rose until she was shouting at her mother, ripping into her for all she had failed to do and blaming her for the abuse she’d suffered and the life she’d been forced into. Eventually Maggie stopped the call as Bonnie was nearly hysterical. She put the phone down and then held and comforted Bonnie until she was calmer. Late that night, when Bonnie was asleep, her mother phoned Maggie. Drunk and belligerent, she blamed Maggie for ‘putting ideas into Bonnie’s head’ and turning her against her. Maggie tried reasoning with her sister but without success, and eventually Leon took the phone from her and hung up.

  Although Bonnie knew that living with Aunt Maggie and her family was only ever going to be temporary, and that Maggie was actively looking for suitable accommodation for her, it was still a shock when Maggie returned home from work one afternoon and announced that she’d found a small furnished self-contained flat just right for Bonnie and Lucy. It was only a mile away, Maggie said, and had a large bedroom big enough to take a bed and a cot, and a small kitchenette and bathroom. Furthermore, and unlike many of the other landlords Maggie had contacted, this one didn’t mind benefit claimants. Maggie explained to Bonnie that once she had a permanent address, and until she could find a job and sort out child-care arrangements, she could claim benefit to pay the rent and live on. Worried that the flat might go quickly, Maggie had paid the deposit and the first month’s rent. Bonnie thanked her, but Maggie could see she was sad at having to go and she felt guilty, even though she didn’t have the room to let Bonnie stay. Bett was due home from university for the Easter holiday and ultimately she would return to live at home when she had graduated, and Maggie’s two younger children already shared a bedroom.

  Out of her own money Maggie bought a cot, bedding, a pushchair, a warm coat for Bonnie and the next size of baby clothes for Lucy, and filled the cupboards in the flat with food. Then she helped Bonnie move in and gave her fifty pounds to ‘see her over’ until her benefit money came through. Maggie felt she had done her best for Bonnie and, having made sure she and Lucy had everything they needed at the flat, she promised to phone and look in regularly, telling Bonnie to visit whenever she wanted and phone if she had any worries.

  All went reasonably well for the first few weeks; Maggie visited twice a week, and although Bonnie’s flat was often untidy, Lucy appeared clean, comfortable and well fed. But then, over the next month, Maggie began to have concerns. Bonnie often wasn’t up when Maggie called on her way to work at the school, although it was 11.30 a.m. When Bonnie eventually answered the door she was often still in her nightwear and Lucy was still in her cot. Although Bonnie told Maggie that she’d been up early and had fed and changed Lucy, Maggie began to doubt this. Lucy’s nappy, her clothes and the cot bedding would be saturated, suggesting she hadn’t been changed for some time, possibly not since the night before, and she was always hungry. A couple of times, while Maggie waited for Bonnie to answer the door, she heard Lucy crying, very distressed, from inside. Then Maggie found that there wasn’t any food in the cupboards and only milk and yoghurt in the fridge, despite Bonnie now being in receipt of benefit.

  ‘What are you two living on?’ Maggie asked, concerned.

  Bonnie became defensive; she shrugged and told Maggie she had to leave as she was going out soon.

  Now very concerned, Maggie returned to Bonnie’s flat after work with a bag of groceries for them, but Bonnie refused to answer the door. Maggie knew she was in as she could hear Lucy crying, so she called through the letter box, but Bonnie still refused to come to the door. Eventually she left the bag of groceries on the doorstep and, wondering what she’d done wrong, returned home. That evening and the following day Maggie telephoned Bonnie many times but she didn’t pick up, neither did she return Maggie’s messages. Unable to understand what was going on, but very concerned for Bonnie’s and Lucy’s safety and wellbeing, she went to her doctor – the one she’d taken Bonnie and Lucy to when they’d first arrived. She explained her concerns and said that she wasn’t sure what to do for the best. The doctor said that while confidentiality forbade him
to discuss Bonnie and Lucy with Maggie, he would ask the health visitor attached to the practice to visit them. When he checked their contact details he found that they were still registered as temporary patients at Maggie’s address, so Maggie gave him their new address, which he entered on the computer system. Two days later a health visitor called on Bonnie and Lucy and, having been allowed into the flat, subsequently alerted the social services.

  Chapter Six

  Neglect

  Doris was in her late thirties and an experienced social worker with two children of her own. She had a good working relationship with Bonnie’s health visitor, who was also a qualified nurse. Doris trusted her opinion, so that if she had concerns about a client and made a referral, it was acted on immediately. Doris had wanted to visit Bonnie and Lucy the day before, but with an emergency child-protection case conference in the morning and then having to place five siblings in foster homes in the afternoon, the day had disappeared. Now she was calling on Bonnie first thing the following morning. It was 9.30 a.m. when she rang the doorbell. Doris wasn’t expecting Bonnie to be up and dressed – not many of her clients were at this time – so she rang the bell a second time.

  A minute later the door to the flat next door opened and an elderly lady poked her head out. ‘You the social?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Doris said with a smile, wondering why it was so obvious.

  ‘Good. That baby’s been crying far too much for my liking, but the mother don’t talk to me,’ the neighbour said, and then disappeared back inside, closing the front door. Doris pressed the bell to Bonnie’s flat again, more determined than ever to gain entry. If the mother didn’t answer then she’d call back later, and if there was still no response she’d return with a court order and the police.

  Giving the bell another push, Doris stooped so she was at eye-level with the letter box and peered in. Her view was blocked by a draught excluder, so she tried calling through the letter box: ‘Bonnie, love, are you in? My name’s Doris. I’m a social worker. Can we have a chat please, love? Nothing for you to worry about.’ Doris knew from experience that you didn’t go straight in talking about child-protection issues if you could help it. Sometimes it was unavoidable – if a child was in danger and had to be removed – but in cases like this it was likely that Bonnie could be helped with support and monitoring.

  Straightening, Doris pressed the bell again and waited. A few moments later she heard the lock turn, and then the door opened. ‘Hello, love,’ she said, smiling. ‘Are you Bonnie?’

  The young woman nodded. Dressed in a crumpled T-shirt and shorts, with her hair dishevelled, she’d clearly just stumbled out of bed. ‘What do you want?’ she asked defensively.

  ‘I’m a social worker. I’d just like to have a chat to make sure that you and your baby are OK, and that you’re accessing everything you’re entitled to. Your health visitor asked me to drop by. I work with her,’ she added. The health visitor had told Doris that while there were no obvious signs that baby Lucy was being physically abused, the level of care she was receiving fell below an acceptable standard and was bordering on neglect – although Doris wouldn’t be saying that yet.

  ‘Can I come in?’ Doris asked with another smile.

  Clearly resenting the intrusion, the young mother stood aside and Doris stepped into the short hall, where a bag of rubbish was waiting to be taken out. She closed the front door behind her. She couldn’t hear a baby crying, but there was a strong smell of soiled nappies.

  ‘You can sit in there while I get her up,’ Bonnie said grudgingly, nodding towards the door to the living room, while she opened the door to the bedroom.

  ‘It’s all right. I’ll come with you,’ Doris said brightly. ‘We can talk while you see to your baby.’ A less experienced social worker might have sat in the living room and waited for the mother to return, thereby missing the opportunity to see more of the client’s home and how they related to their child or children.

  As Doris followed Bonnie into the bedroom she took in the rumpled double bed with only one pillow, seeming to confirm what Bonnie had told the health visitor: that she had no partner or live-in boyfriend. Doris also saw the pile of dirty laundry in one corner, the overflowing clutter on the windowsill, which was being used as a shelf, and the cot against the wall where the baby sat in silence, holding onto the bars and staring out like a little caged animal.

  ‘What a lovely baby,’ Doris said, joining Bonnie at the cot and trying to put the mother at ease. She could feel Bonnie’s hostility and it wouldn’t help in building a relationship. ‘Her name’s Lucy, isn’t it?’

  Bonnie nodded, reached into the cot and lifted out her daughter. Doris noticed the toys in the cot – the infant activity centre and rattle. That was positive, she thought. But she also saw that the baby’s sleep suit was saturated, as was the cot bedding, and there was a strong smell of faeces and ammonia, suggesting that Lucy had been in the same nappy for a long time. She watched as Bonnie laid Lucy on the bed and then, taking a roll of toilet paper from the windowsill, began removing Lucy’s sleep suit. Doris saw the baby stiffen and brace herself, as though she was expecting pain. Having removed the wet and soiled nappy, Bonnie tore off a strip of toilet paper and began cleaning Lucy’s red raw bottom. The baby cried out and Doris looked at Bonnie expecting a reaction. There was none. The mother seemed impervious to her daughter’s distress and continued cleaning Lucy’s bottom with strips of dry toilet paper without trying to soothe her in any way.

  ‘Don’t you have any baby wipes or cream for her bottom?’ Doris asked, as Bonnie reached for a clean nappy.

  ‘No, I ran out.’

  ‘You need to get some more, and a pot of antiseptic barrier cream from the chemist today. Or go to your doctor for a prescription. You’re on benefit so the medication will be free. As soon as you can,’ Doris added. ‘Her little bottom’s very sore and causing her a lot of distress.’

  Bonnie gave a tight nod and picked up her daughter, who had now stopped crying. She carried her into the living room. Doris followed. She wasn’t worried that Lucy was wearing only a vest and nappy as it was June and the flat was warm. However, she was concerned by the lack of interaction between mother and baby. At ten and a half months of age a baby would normally be seeking out its mother’s attention, but Lucy didn’t, and the most likely explanation was that she’d been ignored for so long that she’d given up trying to engage with her mother, and so far the mother had made no attempt to engage with her daughter. She held her, but didn’t talk to her or make eye contact.

  Doris noted that the living room was very bare considering a mother and child lived there. Two old chairs and a chipped coffee table were the only furniture, and there were no toys in this room apart from a heap of plastic building bricks in one corner. Clutter free and unlived in, it suggested to Doris that mother and daughter were either out a lot or lived mainly in the bedroom, possibly staying in bed for most of the day if the mother was very depressed, as the health visitor had thought. Doris sat in one of the chairs and Bonnie sat in the other, setting Lucy on the floor. As soon as Lucy was down she went onto her hands and knees and began a slow and cumbersome crawl across the room towards Doris. Doris took some comfort from seeing this, for she hadn’t crawled while the health visitor had been present, and babies who are severely neglected often fail to meet this developmental milestone, remaining like newborn infants from being left in their cot all day.

  ‘She’s doing well with her crawling,’ Doris said encouragingly, taking a notepad and pen from her bag.

  Bonnie nodded.

  ‘You are a clever girl,’ Doris said, smiling at Lucy. Lucy stared back, her large eyes unresponsive. ‘Is she trying to pull herself up into a standing position yet?’ Doris then asked Bonnie. This would be one of the next developmental milestones and was often achieved by babies of Lucy’s age.

  ‘No,’ Bonnie said, fiddling with her hair.

  ‘I expect she will soon,’ Doris said positively, making a
note. ‘What does Lucy like to eat?’

  ‘The health visitor asked me that,’ Bonnie said resentfully. ‘I told her – milk, yoghurt and porridge.’

  Doris nodded. ‘And I believe the health visitor suggested some new foods for Lucy to try?’

  Bonnie nodded again.

  ‘Good. We’ll have a look in your kitchen later and you can show me what you’re planning to eat today.’

  ‘I haven’t been shopping yet,’ Bonnie said tersely. ‘That health visitor was only here a few days ago.’

  Three days, Doris thought; plenty of time to go shopping and to start implementing the health visitor’s suggestions for feeding Lucy. She glanced down at Lucy who, having arrived at her chair, was sitting quietly at her feet like an attentive puppy.

  ‘Hello, love,’ she said to Lucy, with a smile. But the look on Lucy’s face was pretty much the same as her mother’s – suspicious and watchful.

  ‘It’s very difficult bringing up a child on your own,’ Doris said, returning her attention to Bonnie. ‘Do you have any family living close by who can help you?’ She was aware that this referral had come from a doctor after an aunt of Bonnie’s had expressed concerns.

  ‘No,’ Bonnie said.

  ‘You were living with an aunt?’ Doris asked.

  ‘For a while. But she has family of her own.’

  ‘And your mother and father?’

  ‘I don’t see them.’

  ‘Do they live locally?’

  ‘No.’

  Doris made notes as she talked, all the while wearing a smile and trying to put the mother at ease. However, although she was smiling, she was quickly forming the impression, as the health visitor had done, that all was far from well here; that the mother could be very depressed and, as a result, was neglecting her child.