The Silent Witness

by Casey Watson

  Not that Laura Daniels was terribly cooperative at first. ‘She wouldn’t have it,’ John told me on the phone a few days later. ‘Was still insistent that Bella’s version of events was all nonsense, apparently. Stuck to her story. That it was her, and that she’d hit him in self-defence. It took a lot of talking and explaining to get through to her, I’m told. Which is fair enough,’ he said. ‘Would any parent act differently in her shoes? If there were a shred of doubt that she wouldn’t be punished in some way? Let’s not forget, this is a family who’d already had several dealings with social services. I’m sure the spectre of Bella being taken from her permanently was ever present. Not to mention having probably picked up all sorts of nonsense about youth detention. You know what it’s like, Casey – some people believe anything they read in the tabloids or see on TV.’

  I refrained from pointing out that a diet of crime-on-TV ‘nonsense’ was a Watson family staple. ‘I respect her for that,’ I said instead.

  ‘Anyway, they got there in the end. Once she understood that Bella wasn’t going to be scarred for life by a criminal record, she confessed to everything, and admitted that she’d concocted the story Bella was telling. Well, in this case, not telling, of course. The classic silent witness, eh?’

  ‘Well, it certainly says a lot about them, anyway – that Bella didn’t waver for so long. I think they’ll be all right now. Once this is done with. Don’t you?’

  John agreed that he did. ‘Oh, and she’s being moved out of prison in the next couple of days, too. They’re going to put her in a halfway house close to home. So I guess we can at least say we are halfway there.’

  Bella, when I told her, didn’t look quite so jolly. ‘What’s that?’ she asked when I updated her on progress. ‘Why can’t she just come home? That sounds like it’s just another prison.’

  ‘It’s not, love,’ I said. ‘It’s really not, honestly. She can come and go as she pleases, just like anyone else would. It’s just a place where she can be supported while she gets everything straight. There’s only one stipulation: that she has to be back at home at a certain time every night. And that’s just so they know she’s safe – that they always know where she is. It’s about looking after her. After all, she’s been through a lot, hasn’t she?’

  Bella nodded. ‘Well, that’s definitely true.’ She was silent a moment then. ‘Oh, I wish she could have come and seen Harry Potter with us. It doesn’t seem right, all the nice things I’ve done with you and everyone, and her being locked up and having to eat all that horrible food.’

  ‘Did she tell you that when you visited?’ I asked. ‘That it was horrible?’

  ‘Beyond horrible,’ Bella confirmed. ‘She said it was like something out of Dickens.’

  ‘Well, no more,’ I reassured her. ‘And you know, you’ll be able to share all the photos – I’ll make sure I print some out for you. And you’ll be able to tell her all about our adventures, won’t you? Trust me, sweetheart, all that will have mattered to her will have been your well-being, not hers. I tell you what, I’ll bet she’s kept every one of your letters.’

  ‘I’ve liked writing letters,’ Bella said. ‘No one does that very much now, do they?’

  ‘Well, why don’t you write her one right now?’ I suggested. ‘Must be time for a sunflower update, don’t you think? Oh, and even better news. Sophie’s told me you can start visiting her twice a week now –’

  ‘Twice a week?’

  ‘Yes, isn’t that good?’

  But I’d misread her response. ‘But that makes it sound like it’s going to be ages and ages yet!’

  I could see her chin wobbling as she spoke. She was close to crying.

  ‘Sweetie, it’s good news! It means things are finally moving in the right direction. And yes, it might be a few weeks now, but you have to be patient.’

  ‘But it’s not fair! It’s like she’s still being punished, when she didn’t even do anything wrong!’

  I really could see her point, too. They were both still being punished, where the reality was that the whole tragic episode was not of either of their making, and I had said as much to Sophie myself.

  ‘Well, perhaps she is,’ she’d said, her tone philosophical. ‘For not walking away from Adam Cummings a long time before. Not that I’m judging her,’ she’d added quickly. ‘Unless you’ve been there, how can you possibly know what you’d do? But you see those kinds of toxic cycles again and again, don’t you? And it all fits. You know, with the grandfather.’

  ‘What exactly do you know about the grandfather?’

  ‘Not a lot. Just a couple of things Bella’s mum has apparently said. I think it was put to her that she might like to build those bridges, and apparently her response was “Why d’you think I got pregnant and got out of there in the first place?” Oh, isn’t it the craziest thing that history so often repeats itself? Still, hurrah for the chain breaking. Assuming it stays that way. At least Bella’s out of that destructive cycle.’

  John, too, was in philosophical mood about everything. In response to my plaintive comment that they were being punished despite being innocent, he was quick to point out that Bella had committed a crime.

  ‘Yes, we all know why she did what she did. She reacted impulsively when she thought her mother’s life was in serious danger, and did the only thing she could to try and stop it. And there’s also the crime of perverting the course of justice, don’t forget. If we want the law to be beyond reproach all these things have to be taken seriously, Casey. Now everything has changed from what the law was previously told was the truth, they need to know the physical evidence they have already gathered will fit the new story they have instead. Which is why things take time.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Sorry. Lecture over.’

  Though perhaps it was a lecture that bore repeating, so I did. After all, Bella herself had been keen to make sense of it, and why not add to her education by spelling it out now? Quite apart from anything else, it was education she needed, it having been agreed that it was pointless to start her at our local comp when, all being well, she’d soon be heading home – a place a good way away from us – to take up the reins of her old school life again.

  In the meantime, the precious visits to see her mum were our new priority, though my hunch was that it would be better for them to meet on neutral ground. I’d seen a few halfway houses and, though all I’d told Bella was true, they housed all sorts, from vulnerable adults to ex-junkies to all manner of colourful former prisoners, so they could sometimes be less than, well … well-appointed.

  Thankfully, Sophie was all for it. And when we put it to Bella, the following day, she even suggested a place to go. ‘From before,’ she said. Though before what she didn’t say. And we didn’t ask. Before everything, I guessed. ‘It’s got a garden, and swings and a climbing frame and everything,’ she enthused. ‘I think I’m probably too old now for all that,’ she mused, ‘but, I know! We could take Marley Mae with us, couldn’t we?’

  No, we couldn’t, and wouldn’t, because it wouldn’t be appropriate. ‘And, sweetie,’ I pointed out, ‘I won’t be able to go with you. Sophie will take you. This is all about you spending time with Mum, after all.’

  ‘But I want her to meet you,’ she insisted.

  ‘Casey, you can come,’ Sophie said. ‘In fact, John thinks you should. Well, if you want to, that is.’

  The unspoken assumption being that, actually, I might like the break. A couple of hours of down time – well, cleaning time, in my case, of course.

  But there was no question of me not going once Sophie had said that, and, actually, I did want to meet Laura Daniels. It was one of the little foibles of fostering that you so often found yourself never meeting the parents of the children you cared for. Of ending up with only half the picture. And seeing this mum, in particular, would be a good thing to do. Saying goodbye to vulnerable kids was an emotionally hard business. To know where this one was going could only help smooth the process of letting go. Of me let
ting go.

  ‘Anyway, she’s very keen to meet you,’ Sophie added. ‘Not least because she wants the chance to thank you in person. And it’ll be a good thing for you too, because you’ll know everything’s going to be okay when Bella goes.’

  They smiled at each other as Sophie said this and I sensed a shared sentiment. What was with all this mind-reading people were doing?

  I smiled too, sensing the hand of John Fulshaw in the equation. Foster carers didn’t routinely get involved in such meetings. That was the job of a child’s social worker, always. But John knew me well, and I knew how thoughtful he was. He knew how hard I found the wrench when a child just upped and left. The long goodbye. That was definitely what I was better at.

  Chapter 24

  ‘Don’t come out yet!’ Bella yelled from the back garden. ‘And absolutely no peeking!’

  Marley Mae giggled, her fists curled into balls and tight against her eyes. ‘Nanny, can I look now?’ she asked.

  It was Saturday morning, and I had a special dispensation to observe, as I’d been busy helping Bella get organised. Later today we would both be off to see her mother, along with Sophie, but right now Mike, Riley, Marley Mae and I were squashed into the conservatory awaiting the big reveal.

  Only absent was Tyler, who’d elected to avoid the girly stuff by becoming boy-minder for the morning, taking Levi and Jackson up to the local pitch to watch a ‘friendly’ football match. Though I never understood why they persisted in calling them that as on the rare occasions I’d been dragged along to them they were anything but. And that included the spectators.

  And three out of the four of us were being good and waiting patiently, but as what Marley Mae did know was that the surprise was mostly to be for her it was hardly surprising that she had such ants in her pants.

  ‘Any second now, darling,’ I told her, ‘and then you can peek.’

  ‘No fair,’ she said, her lips pouting, even though she obediently kept her eyes shut. ‘I wanna go out now.’

  ‘Hey, madam,’ Riley scolded, allowing one eye to open slightly, ‘less of the attitude or you won’t get your surprise at all. And I hope this is all worth it, Mother,’ she muttered to me. ‘Or we’ll have a little tantrum on our hands.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I reassured her. ‘Our little princess is going to love it. It’s –’

  ‘Right!’ Bella once again bellowed from the garden. ‘You can come out now!’

  Marley Mae had wriggled out of my grasp even before she’d finished speaking.

  Bella was standing proudly by her creation, which was a newly fenced-off corner of my garden, courtesy of the local DIY store. Attached to it was a wooden plaque, which Marley Mae was immediately drawn to. ‘Ta dah!’ she shouted as we trooped outside.

  ‘Mummy, look!’ she cried, squatting down in front of it and clapping her hands together. ‘It’s got me on! And, look! A princess crown!’

  The plaque, which was indeed crown shaped, had been made by one of Mike’s work mates for us, and said ‘Marley Mae’s Sunshine Garden’, and beneath it – another squeal of delight from my now hyperventilating granddaughter – were a tiny gardening fork and trowel with pink and yellow handles, and a little yellow bucket and matching watering can.

  ‘It does have your name on it,’ Bella said as she knelt down beside Marley Mae. ‘And see those teeny tiny green shoots near the back?’ She pointed. ‘Well, they are your very first sunflowers, already growing. And next week I’m going to help you plant some more, and then some more – that way you’ll have a sunshine garden almost to the winter. If you take good care of them, that is. That’s what the tools are for. So you can dig up any weeds, and thin them, and water them …’

  ‘All by myself in charge?’ Marley Mae said. I could hear Mike chuckle.

  ‘Yes, all by yourself in charge,’ Bella said. ‘Well, you’re almost exactly four now, after all.’ She glanced across at me. ‘Though if you ask her nicely, I’m sure your nanny will help you. And I’ll still be here for a bit. And I’m a sunflower expert. So if you need any advice you can ask me.’

  Marley Mae flung her arms around Bella’s neck. ‘Oh, thank you thank you thank you!’ she said. ‘My own princess garden! Oh, thank you thank you.’ She plastered grateful kisses all over Bella’s face. ‘And, Nanny, you are allowed to be my special helper. And granddad as well. You can be the very important digger person.’

  I could hardly trust myself to speak.

  I knew Mike had noticed. ‘Happy to take the job, ma’am,’ he said. ‘Hey, and guess what else, Marley? Me and nanny have bought some special plant pots for Bella to take with her when she goes back home to her mummy, and we’ve popped some sunflower seeds in those as well.’ He smiled at Bella. ‘So when she’s all settled in she can plant them in her garden and you and she can phone each other and tell each other how big they are getting.’

  Marley Mae, now sitting on Bella’s hip, clapped her hands together again. ‘Yes!” she whooped.

  ‘In fact we were thinking you could have a competition,’ I told Bella, now I’d managed to compose myself a little. ‘See who manages to grow the biggest sunflower. How about that?’

  ‘Oh, that would be ace,’ Bella said, furiously tickling Marley now, and I could see she too was fighting not to cry. She put her down then. ‘But right now I have to go inside and start getting ready. Why don’t you give them a water? I left that job specially for you today, and I bet they’re pretty thirsty.’

  Then she hurried off indoors, without a backwards glance.

  ‘Oh, bless her,’ Riley said, twisting to watch her going inside. ‘She’s really upset.’

  ‘It’s been an emotional morning, and it’s going to be an emotional afternoon,’ I said, as Mike and Marley went to fill up her dinky watering can.

  ‘You can say that again,’ Riley said. ‘God, can you imagine what it must have been like having to see her in that place? Thank God that ordeal is over at least.’

  ‘And a big change coming up,’ I said. ‘A happy change in this case. But it’s still a big transition to make. I hate it too. It’s the worst thing in the world, isn’t it?’ I knew Riley understood because though she was still mostly doing respite work, she had lived our fostering lives with us so closely. And wasn’t that the rub of it? That the better things went, and the closer you became to a child, the more you had to suffer for your fostering ‘success’?

  I followed her inside. She’d dried her tears by the time I’d found her in the downstairs cloakroom, and was busy blowing her nose. ‘So much crying!’ she observed, giving me a wan smile once she’d finished.

  ‘You and me both, sweetie,’ I told her. ‘Not to mention Mike.’

  ‘Mike was crying?’ This made her smile widen.

  ‘Only in secret,’ I told her. ‘So don’t tell.’

  Sophie arrived on the dot of two, just after we’d finished a quick sandwich lunch, and Tyler, now home, had been given his very important warnings about the sanctity of the hallowed princess space and how no ball of any kind must ever breach its boundaries. (Yeah, right, I thought. Like that was going to be in any way manageable. Happily, however, I also knew sunflowers – and a tougher, more resilient-stemmed annual you’d never see.)

  Mike was first out of the front door to greet her – or, more accurately her lovely car, which, in that way that men do, he, once given permission, observed from all angles, standing, arms folded across his chest, pointing out its many features to Tyler, and peering closely at the perfect finish on the paintwork.

  While Bella ran in to grab the photographs the printer was finishing printing out for her, Sophie and I stood and watched, amused, on the doorstep.

  ‘He’s in love,’ I said.

  She grinned. ‘I’m still a little bit in love with her too,’ she confessed. ‘Which is a new one on me. I’ve never really been much of a car person at all. An A to B – or rather “A to grim council flat on the edge of the red light district” person, given the job. You know how
it is.’

  ‘Really?’ I said, still bemused at why and how this still so young social worker (not the best-paid job in the world) had ownership of such a swanky expensive car. It was perplexing. A sugar daddy? I dismissed the thought immediately. Sophie was the very antithesis of a sugar-daddy type. And thank the lord for that.

  So I thought I’d ask her. Why not, after all?

  ‘If it’s not too presumptuous a question,’ I went on, ‘how come you are driving around in that beauty, then?’

  She turned and smiled at me. ‘I think it’s what’s called an impulse purchase.’

  ‘Some impulse purchase!’

  She laughed. ‘No, it really was! When Mum died, it turned out that she had taken out this life-insurance policy that no one knew about – certainly not Dad; though she was a pretty high-up civil servant and she’d always been sensible like that – and I found myself sitting on a big wodge of unexpected cash, so …’ She spread her arms. ‘Mad, eh? I know I should have put it in some sensible high-interest bank account, or used it as a deposit on a flat or something – and there’s still a little bit left for that. Well, a teeny bit. But, you know – I needed to change my old banger, and I kept looking at sensible replacements, and then one day I just woke up – I’d been dreaming about Mum, I think – and I thought sod it. I’m going to have something completely indulgent. Because I kept thinking of what Mum said while she was dying. Do it now. You never know what’s going to happen. Do it now. So I did. Because you don’t ever know, do you? What’s coming up round the corner … Oh, Christ, sorry …’ She waved a hand in front of her face. ‘Sorry … I’ve started myself off now …’

  ‘Blinking heck,’ I said. ‘And now you’ve started me off, and all.’

  Thankfully, Bella was way too excited on the journey to set off any further bouts of crying, and, happily, the journey this time was much shorter.