Will You Love Me?

by Cathy Glass

  ‘And the aunt?’ Peter said, checking back in his paperwork. ‘This was the lady who gave Bonnie and Lucy a home when Lucy was a baby. We thought that sounded hopeful.’

  Stevie shook her head. ‘I’ve spoken to Maggie on the phone. She’s a lovely lady, but she can’t offer Lucy a home as she is in poor health herself.’

  ‘So that leaves us with a long-term foster family for Lucy?’ Peter said.

  ‘Yes,’ Stevie confirmed. ‘The family-finding team are looking for a good match.’

  ‘Well, I hope they don’t take too long,’ Peter said quite forcefully. He finished writing and then said to Stevie: ‘Perhaps you could now tell us about the contact Lucy had with her mother last week?’

  Stevie sighed. ‘It wasn’t good. The contact supervisor’s report shows that both Bonnie and Lucy found the meeting very difficult.’

  ‘How long was the contact?’ Peter asked.

  ‘One hour.’

  He made a note, and Stevie continued: ‘Bonnie and Lucy didn’t engage with each other at all. They struggled to make conversation and weren’t able to communicate at any meaningful level. There were long, awkward silences and they were awkward with each other, and not at all tactile.’

  ‘You mean they didn’t hug or kiss each other?’ Peter asked.

  ‘That’s right. Not even when they met or said goodbye.’ Which of course I’d also noticed.

  ‘According to the supervisor’s report,’ Stevie continued, ‘Lucy suggested that they play some games together – draughts, dominoes and Scrabble – but Bonnie said she didn’t know how to play any of these games. Lucy offered to teach her and said that Cathy had been teaching her, but Bonnie said it was better she played them with Cathy, who knew how to play the games. In fact, Lucy talked a lot about Cathy and her family and the things they do together.’

  ‘Did Bonnie resent this?’ Peter asked.

  ‘Surprisingly, no,’ Stevie said. ‘In fact, Bonnie told Lucy she was pleased she was happy with Cathy. Cathy met Bonnie at the start and end of contact.’

  ‘How did that go?’ Peter asked, turning to me.

  ‘All right,’ I said. ‘I only met Bonnie for a couple of minutes, but she was polite to me.’

  ‘And how was Lucy after contact?’ Peter asked me.

  ‘Lucy wasn’t upset; she seemed to take it in her stride,’ I said. ‘I formed the impression that she hadn’t expected much more from her mother. Lucy told me that she didn’t expect to see her mother regularly and that her mother couldn’t help being the way she is, because she’d been abused as a child.’

  ‘How very sad,’ Peter said as he wrote. Then he looked at Stevie. ‘You were hoping to set up regular contact between Lucy and her mother; I take it that’s not going to happen now?’

  ‘No,’ Stevie said. ‘It’s not practical.’

  ‘Is Bonnie going to contest the case in court?’ Peter now asked Stevie.

  ‘No. Bonnie recognizes she can’t look after Lucy.’

  ‘It took her long enough,’ Peter commented dryly. ‘So, we’re just waiting for your family-finding team to come up with a good match for Lucy?’

  ‘Yes,’ Stevie confirmed.

  Then turning to me, Peter said, ‘And while the social services are finding a suitable family for Lucy, she can stay with you?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ I said. ‘For as long as it takes to find a family. The night she had contact, we were talking and she told me she would like to stay with us permanently. I’ve explained why that’s not possible.’

  Peter looked at Stevie. ‘And as Lucy’s social worker you’ve explained all this to Lucy?’ he asked.

  ‘As much as I can,’ Stevie said. ‘Lucy won’t have anything to do with me at present.’

  ‘Well, someone needs to explain the recent developments to Lucy,’ Peter said. ‘That none of her extended family has come forward to look after her, so she’ll be going to a long-term foster family. I take it she’s too old to be adopted?’

  ‘Yes,’ Stevie said.

  ‘I think Lucy understands most of this already,’ I said. ‘But I can have another chat with her if you like and tell her, as she won’t see Stevie?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ Peter said. ‘It’s a pity Lucy didn’t feel able to join us for her review.’ I felt I was receiving a little smack on the legs. ‘And her Life Story Book?’ Peter now asked Stevie.

  ‘She should have it here,’ Stevie said to me.

  ‘It’s in a drawer in her bedroom,’ I said. ‘She’s very protective of it and hasn’t let any of us see it. I’m taking lots of photographs that can be added to it.’

  ‘Good,’ Peter said, making a note. ‘Now, is there anything else?’ He looked around the room, but no one had anything to add. ‘In that case, we’ll set a date for her next review and I’ll close the meeting.’

  We took out our diaries and a date was set in January, in five months’ time. Peter thanked us all for attending, which is customary, and he and Stevie left while Jill waited behind.

  ‘That went reasonably well,’ Jill said, once they’d gone.

  ‘Yes, although it’s a pity Lucy wouldn’t come down.’

  ‘She did once,’ Jill said with a smile. ‘To let the cat in.’

  ‘I know!’

  ‘Hopefully she’ll come to her next review. It will be very close to her going to permanency so it will be an important one.’ I nodded. ‘Cathy, how do you feel about doing another short respite?’ Jill said, changing the subject. ‘Just for next week.’

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ I said. ‘Everyone was happy about David staying.’

  ‘Thanks. His name is Toby. He’s twelve and has been with his foster family for a year. His carers had booked to take him on holiday, but the social services didn’t get him a passport in time, so rather than have the whole family cancel their holiday, I’ve said we’ll arrange a week’s respite.’

  ‘That’s all right with me,’ I said. ‘Although it’s a pity Toby couldn’t go on holiday.’ The dilemma that faced Toby’s family highlighted an ongoing problem experienced by many foster families: that the child or children they are looking after don’t have passports, and the application to acquire one can only be made by the social services, not the foster carer. While this might not seem a high priority, it often resulted in either the foster family not having a holiday (sometimes for years), having to cancel a pre-booked holiday and losing their money or the foster child being left behind in respite care.

  Jill called goodbye to the children upstairs as she left, and once she’d gone I went up and told them that we were going to look after Toby from Friday evening for a week. Adrian was delighted to have a boy of a similar age to himself for company, and Lucy and Paula were happy for Toby to stay too. We made the best of the good weather that week and were outside most days, either in the garden or the local parks.

  When Toby’s foster father, Sid, brought Toby on Friday evening, he and Adrian immediately went off to play. Sid was still angry that he couldn’t take Toby on holiday with them and, out of earshot of the children, he said to me: ‘My wife told the social services ten months ago that we were booking this holiday. We had permission to take him abroad. You’d have thought they could have got him a passport! How long do they need?’ I sympathized, for had I wanted to take my family abroad I could have been in the same position; Lucy didn’t have a passport and she’d been in care for three years!

  I reassured Sid that I would give Toby a good week with lots of outings, which is what I did. We went out every day and I included a day at the zoo and a day trip to the coast. While Toby enjoyed all of this, it wasn’t as good as a holiday abroad, which Toby had clearly been looking forward to – it would have been his first time on a plane. Apart from missing out on this experience, he also missed his foster family, as I was sure they were missing him. When Sid returned to collect Toby, they hugged each other hard and I thought they were close to tears. While Toby went up to his room to collect his bag, I asked Sid if he and hi
s family had had a nice time. He shrugged and said, ‘We made the best of it, but to be honest we all felt guilty about leaving Toby behind. I think we should have cancelled and lost the money.’ I felt sorry for him and thought: all this, for the sake of some paperwork!

  It was now halfway through August and our thoughts turned to our own holiday, which was in a week’s time. Adrian, Lucy and Paula were all very excited and were planning all the fun things they were going to do: build sandcastles, paddle and swim in the sea, eat loads of ice creams, watch the Punch and Judy show on the beach, stay up very late and lots, lots more. They’d been saving up their pocket money so they could go on plenty of rides at the funfair, and when the time came to pack their cases they were more than happy to help. It was a five-hour drive to the coast, but we left home at 6.00 a.m., stopped at the services on the motorway for breakfast and arrived at twelve. We dropped off our cases at the self-catering bungalow we were staying in and were on the beach by early afternoon. We stayed on the beach until the sun began to drop and then we returned to the bungalow, unpacked our cases and went out to eat in a family restaurant overlooking the sea. It was a lovely start to the holiday, and that evening three tired but very excited children climbed into bed and were asleep as soon as their heads touched their pillows.

  We made the most of every day of our holiday; on the beach, in the sea, visiting local attractions. The resort was popular with families and, like all the other happy families around us, we had a great time. Lucy was ecstatic and kept thanking me and telling me what a fantastic time she was having – over and over again.

  ‘It’s OK, love,’ I said. ‘You don’t have to keep thanking me. I’m pleased you’re having a good time.’

  ‘I am! Thanks, Cathy. It’s the best holiday I’ve ever had.’

  As far as I knew, it was the only holiday she’d ever had.

  As I sat on the beach watching Adrian, Lucy and Paula playing in the sea, I thought more than once how much of a family unit we really were. Perhaps it was because Lucy had no proper family of her own that she’d bonded with us so quickly, and us with her. She’d fitted in so easily, and I often felt she was my daughter, and the three children were so natural together that they could easily have been siblings by birth. True, Lucy’s hair was darker than Adrian’s and Paula’s, and she had some of her father’s Thai features, but the differences were so negligible that she didn’t stand out as different. Many families are now comprised of children with different fathers, and I might have been married more than once for all anyone else knew. Stevie was looking for a good ethnic match for Lucy, but I knew such a family would be difficult to find. How long would she and the family-finding team leave Lucy in uncertainty while they looked? And how much did it really matter that a perfect ethnic match was found? Surely a stable, loving family should be the first priority?

  I ran through these questions in my mind quite a few times during the holiday, and by the end of the week there was something pressing I needed to ask Jill as soon as we returned.

  Chapter Twenty

  ‘Will You Love Me?’

  ‘Jill, would you back me if I were to apply to look after Lucy permanently?’ I asked, my heart pounding nervously in my chest. ‘I haven’t said anything to Lucy, Adrian or Paula yet; I wanted to discuss it with you first.’

  It was 5 September, the day after the schools returned from the summer holiday, so there was just Jill, Toscha and me in the house. Jill was looking at me carefully, clearly deep in thought.

  I continued, ‘I appreciate that Stevie is looking for a long-term foster family with the right ethnic mix for Lucy,’ I said. ‘But is finding such a family realistic? And how long will it take? Lucy sees herself as British. She doesn’t have issues with her cultural identity, and I’m doing all I can to promote her dual heritage. She’s had such a rough life, with so many moves and so much uncertainty. She’s settled here with us. Adrian, Paula and I think the world of her and I know she does us. More than once she’s asked if she can stay, and we want her to.’ I’d spoken passionately, straight from my heart. Jill was still looking at me intently. ‘Well? What do you think, Jill?’

  ‘Do you love Lucy?’ Jill asked after a moment.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ I said, without hesitation. ‘She’s like a daughter to me, and a sister to Adrian and Paula. I know they feel the same as I do. At present they understand that Lucy will leave us one day, just as all the other children we’ve fostered have. That’s something you have to accept when you foster, but I know they would be over the moon if Lucy could stay.’

  Jill gave a small thoughtful nod and then her face broke into a smile. ‘Yes, I’ll back you,’ she said. ‘I’d be pleased to. I can see how settled and happy Lucy is with you. She’s integrated perfectly into your family.’

  ‘Oh, thank you!’ I cried, clasping my hands together. ‘Thank you so much!’ I stood and, crossing the room, gave Jill a big hug. ‘You’re a star!’

  Jill laughed. ‘You’re welcome. Now, the first thing I need to do is to approach Stevie. As Lucy’s social worker, her view will be paramount in this.’

  In all my excitement I’d almost forgotten Stevie’s role in this. ‘Do you think she’ll support my application?’ I asked, immediately growing concerned.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure she will,’ Jill said. ‘No social worker wants to move a child unnecessarily. And Stevie will know that the chances of finding a perfect match for Lucy are very remote. If I was Stevie, I’d be on my knees thanking you for giving Lucy a permanent home. I’ll phone her as soon as I return to my office.’

  I was grinning from ear to ear. ‘So how long do you think the process will take? Can you talk me through it?’

  ‘Sure. Now, let me see. The final care hearing is set for December, but the deadline for submitting the paperwork to court will be next month. Included in that paperwork will be a copy of the care plan. Stevie will need to revise that before she submits it, to show that Lucy will be staying here as a long-term foster placement. Then, after the final court case in December, when the social services will have been granted the Full Care Order, your application to keep Lucy will go before the permanency panel. More paperwork, I’m afraid, and that will need to be in a month before the panel meets. It meets once a month, so if your application misses the January deadline then it will be included in February. You’ll have to attend the permanency panel, but not the care proceedings.’ I gave a small gasp. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I’ll be with you and I’m sure the panel will approve your application. So my guess is that by the end of February it should all be passed.’

  ‘Wonderful!’ I cried.

  I could hardly contain my excitement and could have happily kissed Jill. She’d now taken a pen and notepad from her bag and was writing. I waited patiently until she’d finished.

  ‘I’m going now,’ she said, standing. ‘I want to get your application moving. I’ll phone Stevie and then phone you to confirm the timescale.’ She grinned, and I could see she was as happy for me as I was. ‘You’ve made my day,’ she said, as I went with her to the front door.

  ‘You’ve made mine,’ I said. ‘Thanks again.’ I gave her another big hug before she left.

  For the rest of that morning and the early afternoon I was on a cloud. I skipped around the house, doing the housework as though on a cushion of air. I knew Adrian and Paula would be overjoyed when I told them, and as for Lucy, well, it was her birthday soon, and what better birthday present was there than a family of her own! I felt the luckiest person alive and I said a silent prayer of thanks. There’d been a time in my life when I’d been told that tests showed I was unlikely to have children, and now here I was with three and still fostering. ‘Thank you!’ I said out loud.

  At two o’clock the landline rang and I rushed to answer it, expecting it to be Jill with the confirmation I’d been anticipating. It was Jill, but as soon as she spoke I knew something was badly wrong.

  ‘Cathy, you’d better sit down.’ Her voice was tight and
tense. ‘I’ve spoken to Stevie and it’s not good news, I’m afraid.’ For a second I thought she was going to tell me that Stevie had found a family for Lucy – the match she’d been looking for – which would have been very disappointing, but not the blow Jill now delivered.

  ‘Stevie won’t consider your application as a long-term carer for Lucy,’ Jill said, ‘because she feels you can’t meet her needs. I tried to persuade her you could, but she’s adamant. She won’t put you forward.’

  My stomach churned. ‘What needs?’ I asked, or rather demanded.

  ‘Lucy’s cultural needs,’ Jill said bluntly.

  ‘So tell me what else I need to do,’ I said, sick with fear. ‘And I’ll do whatever it takes.’

  ‘It’s not about what you are doing or not doing,’ Jill said. ‘I know you’re positively reinforcing Lucy’s cultural identity, but you can’t change who you are.’

  ‘You mean I’m not Thai or part Thai?’ I asked, my voice rising.

  ‘That’s right. And no one in your extended family is, and neither are any of your close friends.’

  My anger flared. ‘That’s Stevie talking, isn’t it?’ I said. ‘It’s racism as well as being ridiculous. We live in a multicultural society, Jill. I have friends from many different cultures. Lucy blends in, she doesn’t stand out. You said yourself she’d fitted in perfectly. Yet because my family isn’t the same racial mix, we’re being ruled out. I think this has more to do with Stevie’s hang-ups about cultural identity than what’s best for Lucy. That woman’s been obsessed with this right from the start. Never mind that we love Lucy and can give her a permanent loving family. All that has been forgotten, sacrificed, because Stevie thinks the right ethnic mix is more important!’ I stopped. My breath caught in my throat and tears stung my eyes. I’d probably said too much, but I felt I had nothing to lose.