Mummy Told Me Not to Tell

by Cathy Glass

  The chairperson stopped him to ask what these were, and Mr Fitzgerald described what had happened. Then the chairperson looked to Jamey and me for further comment. Jamey explained that Reece had been exposed to inappropriate sexual behaviour at home, and that the social services knew for certain he had watched X-rated adult videos, but added that no one really knew the full extent of what had been happening.

  ‘Do you think Reece has been sexually abused?’ the chairperson asked him.

  ‘It’s impossible to say at present,’ Jamey said. ‘There is an investigation going on at present into Scott, Reece’s father, in respect of allegations Susie, his stepdaughter, has made against him. There is nothing to suggest that Reece was also sexually abused by Scott, although it is possible.’

  ‘Not by his own father, surely?’ the head asked, disgusted.

  ‘We can’t rule it out,’ Jamey said. Mr Fitzgerald looked absolutely appalled, but I knew, as Jamey did, that such horrendous abuse did happen in families, even by fathers of their sons. ‘And there was a paedophile visiting the house,’ Jamey added.

  ‘Do you think Reece has been sexually abused?’ the chairperson asked me.

  I could only agree with what Jamey had said. ‘I don’t know. It’s possible. Reece can touch inappropriately, but we haven’t seen any overtly sexualized behaviour since he first arrived. I think it will be a long time before Reece tells anyone, as Tracey appears to have quite a hold over him.’

  The chairperson nodded. ‘Thank you, Cathy.’ The minute-taker wrote. Mr Fitzgerald finished his contribution as he had begun by saying that in view of Reece being in his school for only a few days, it was too early to comment on his progress, but that everything was being done to accommodate him.

  The chairperson thanked the head for coming and Mr Fitzgerald left the conference. The two nurses were then asked to give their reports, which were brief. The community nurse confirmed Reece’s immunizations were up to date, and his weight and height were within the normal range. She said she had known the family for a year, and had expressed concerns about Reece (and Susie) when she’d first visited the home. She was pleased the children were now in care and being well looked after. The school nurse followed, and said that she hadn’t met Reece yet but would be seeing him after Easter when she was scheduled to visit the school. She said she would be testing his eyesight and hearing, as she would that of the other children in his year.

  All that remained now was to hear from Kirsty, the police liaison officer, who had already spoken briefly when she had outlined recent police involvement. She started by drawing our attention to her report in the case notes, and we all turned to the relevant document. Her report had a list of dates on the left-hand side of each page, and a corresponding paragraph on the right, which set out the incident to which the police had been called.

  Kirsty summarized as we read, and her report was a shocking indication of the high level of involvement the police had had with this family. Twenty-four separate incidents were listed, and that was only in the last three months, since the last CP conference at the beginning of the year. Sharon, Tracey’s eldest child, who lived in a teenager residential care home in the county, featured strongly, as did Tracey. Sharon had been picked up on the streets by the police for being drunk and under the influence of drugs, and for assaulting a member of the public. On each occasion she had been given a cooling-off period at the police station before being returned to the care home. On two occasions when she had been taken to the police station Sharon had hit an officer and then accused him of assaulting her, threatening him with her mother’s solicitor. On another occasion Sharon had been found in a locked children’s playground at midnight, crying hysterically, and having tried to cut her wrists. The police had taken her to hospital and she had later been discharged with the wound sutured. Sharon had been offered counselling but had refused it. ‘All the older children have been offered counselling,’ Kirsty said, ‘but none of them has attended.’

  The next list of incidents were assaults by Tracey — on a doctor, a social worker, members of the public, a shopkeeper, an ex-teacher of Reece’s, neighbours, Scott and finally Susie. Each time the police had been called they’d had to physically restrain Tracey, which had resulted in her accusing them of assault. Tracey had been taken to the police station six times during this three-month period, but after a verbal warning had been released. Tracey and Sharon had been picked up together on two occasions in the high street, late at night and both drunk. The second of these incidents had occurred in early February, a couple of weeks after Reece had come to me. When the police had asked Tracey and Sharon what they were doing they had said they were going to see ‘Reece’s new foster carer’. Kirsty said she didn’t know if they had my address or if it was bluff.

  Kim, the chairperson, sighed and looked at me. ‘If any of the family does come to your house you must call the police immediately.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I will.’ And I meant it.

  ‘And I should be careful in the high street,’ Kirsty added. ‘Tracey and Sharon are often there during the day as well as at night.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, wondering where exactly it was safe for me to go.

  ‘Isn’t Sharon supposed to be back in the care home by nine thirty?’ the chairperson asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Kirsty replied. ‘But she never is, and there is nothing they can do about it. It’s not a secure unit: they can’t lock her in.’

  The next two incidents detailed when the police had been called to the care home after Sharon had been fighting another resident. Although this case conference wasn’t about Sharon, Kirsty’s report was important to the conference as it set Reece in the wider family picture.

  The last five dates detailed incidents when the police had been called to the council offices when Tracey had been ejected by the security guards but had refused to leave the car park. She seemed to make a habit of standing in the car park and accosting staff and members of the public as they walked in and out of the building. Kirsty came to the end of her report and stopped. The room was quiet.

  ‘Good heavens!’ Jill whispered under her breath to me.

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘Just as well the head isn’t present to hear this lot.’

  ‘Absolutely,’

  ‘It’s dreadful,’ the chairperson said. Then, looking at Jamey: ‘What are the long-term plans for Reece?’

  ‘Assuming we are granted a full-care order at the final hearing in September, we will be looking for a long-term carer, as far away from this area as possible. We hope Reece and Susie will be the ones we can save in all this.’

  The chairperson nodded in agreement. ‘Does anyone want to add anything?’

  ‘It’s a pity Sharon can’t be moved out of the area too,’ Kirsty said, ‘right away from Tracey’s influence, but I guess it’s too late.’

  Jamey agreed. ‘Sharon is eighteen now. She will be leaving care soon. I understand she wants to go back to her mother. There’s nothing we can do to stop her.’

  ‘Is the paedophile still visiting the family home?’ the chairperson asked, obviously concerned.

  ‘Yes,’ Jamey said. ‘That’s one of the reasons why Sharon wants to go back home. She says she fancies him and he fancies her.’ My stomach lurched and I heard Jill sigh. The case just got worse and worse. ‘There have also been suggestions,’ Jamey continued, ‘that Scott has been having a sexual relationship with Sharon as well, but there is no proof.’

  ‘That’s correct,’ Kirsty said. ‘Sharon made an allegation against Scott nearly a year ago, but withdrew it under pressure from Tracey. The latest I have heard is that Sharon is claiming to be pregnant.’

  Jamey nodded. ‘But it could just be fantasy — she has made similar claims before. Let’s hope it is.’

  We were all quiet again. Clearly there was no end to the abuse that was being perpetrated in one form or another in this family. I would like to say that I had never heard anything like it before but sadly I had. Not too o
ften, fortunately, but there are families who seem to flaunt all the laws of morality and exist at a basic, almost feral level.

  All that remained now was for the conference to go through the formality of deregistering Reece by taking his name off the child protection register, now that he was no longer living at home and in need of the monitoring and protection that being on the register allowed. The chairperson asked us each in turn if we agreed to the deregistration, and we all said yes. This was minuted. Then the chairperson thanked us all for coming, and said again what a sad case it was. She thanked me for all I was doing for Reece, and we stood to leave.

  ‘Who is leaving the building apart from me?’ the chairperson asked.

  ‘I am,’ I said. So too were Kirsty, Jill and the nurses. So the five of us left the conference room together and went downstairs and into reception. The two security guards were at the main entrance and Kay, who had been chairing, asked them if Tracey was in the area.

  ‘We don’t think so,’ one of them said.

  We left the building in a vigilant little crowd, and then went our separate ways to our cars. Jill came with me to mine, and waited until I had driven away.

  It was with a sad and heavy heart that I drove the twenty-minute drive home, my thoughts entirely occupied by Reece and his life before he came into care. It didn’t make it any easier having heard of similar families before: each child is an individual with their own personal suffering. In some ways it made it worse, as all the work seemed a bit pointless, like a small drop in a very large ocean. Social services had been trying to help Tracey’s family for years, yet from what I’d heard today, their efforts had come to nothing. And while Reece and Susie, being younger, might have a chance to escape the cycle of abuse, I wondered about the damage that had already been done to them, and the wounds that were now festering. Certainly Reece (and Susie) must have suffered dreadfully and for a long time. Reece must now be starting to see that the life he led with his mum was not normal, compared to the life he now led in care. But unless he lost some of his fear, and started to talk, his wounds could continue to fester for years to come.

  My thoughts were still sombre as I pulled onto my driveway at nearly one o’clock. It had been a long meeting and apart from a glass of water, I had not had anything since breakfast at 7.00 a.m. I opened the front door and was looking forward to lunch, and sitting quietly for a few minutes, but it wasn’t to be. The light on the answerphone was flashing, signalling a message. As I played it back my spirits sunk even lower.

  It was Betty, the school secretary. ‘Please come to the school as soon as you get this message. Reece has stabbed a member of staff with a pencil. He is now excluded.’

  Chapter Thirteen:

  A ‘Done Bad’ Day

  The message from the school secretary was timed at 11.37, over an hour before. Having just closed the front door, I opened it again and returned to my car. I drove fast, my thoughts reeling. I felt hot and slightly nauseous. The head had left the meeting at 11.15, so I presumed the incident had happened while he’d been at the child protection case conference, and he had dealt with it by issuing this exclusion on his return to school.

  It was the end of the lunchtime play when I arrived at the school, and the children were lining up in the playground, ready to go in for the afternoon lessons. I pressed the security buzzer and the gate clicked open without my having to give my name. Likewise as I went up the steps to the main door it opened from inside.

  ‘The head wants to see you straightaway,’ Betty, the secretary, said. I guessed she’d been watching for my arrival from her office, which overlooked the main entrance. ‘He’s in his office. You know where it is — down the corridor, and then left.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. I opened the door with all the ‘welcome’ signs and then went along the corridor to Mr Fitzgerald’s office. The door was closed, so I knocked.

  ‘Come in,’ he called brusquely.

  Mr Fitzgerald was seated behind his massive desk and speaking on the phone. He gestured to the armchair in front of his desk and I sat down. I noticed he didn’t make eye contact as he wound up the phone conversation. Only when he’d replaced the receiver did he look at me, and there wasn’t an ounce of warmth.

  ‘Mrs Glass, while we were at the case conference there was a very serious incident here. My deputy dealt with it as best she could but it has shocked everyone.’

  I met his gaze and waited for the details.

  ‘Mrs Morrison was helping Reece in the classroom during a science lesson when it happened. Reece had been annoying Troy, whom he sits next to, on and off for the whole of the lesson. I understand he kept poking Troy in the ribs, and going up close to him and making loud noises in his ear. Mrs Morrison asked Reece to stop many times and eventually she sat between them. At that point Reece shouted to her, “Get the fuck out of here.” Then he stabbed the back of her hand with his sharp pencil. It pierced the skin and I have sent her to the hospital for a tetanus injection.’

  The head paused, but continued to look at me. I hadn’t got a clue what to say, but my expression said it all — I was mortified.

  ‘Everyone is shocked,’ he continued. ‘The children in the class are very upset at seeing a beloved member of staff attacked in this way, and also by Reece’s shouting. He was completely out of control. It took his class teacher ten minutes to persuade him to leave the room.’

  ‘Where is he now?’ I asked, sombrely.

  ‘In the quiet room, with my other two TAs. They have had to leave the children they were working with, but I wasn’t having one TA alone with Reece. It isn’t safe. That child is dangerous. He’s an animal.’

  Upon hearing Reece being described and segregated in this way, my first instinct was to protect and defend him, but what could I say? Clearly it was a vicious attack and on a lovely lady who was kindness itself, and had gone to a lot of trouble to look after Reece and help him. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said at last. ‘I really don’t know what else to say. Is Mrs Morrison all right now?’

  ‘I shall phone her later. I have told her to go home after she has been to the hospital. Apart from the shock of the physical injury she was very upset that Reece should attack her. She’s taken it personally.’ The head was looking at me intently now, awaiting an explanation, which I didn’t have. ‘Has there been an incident like this with you or when he was with his previous carers?’ he asked. ‘I still haven’t received anything from his social worker, although he promised me this morning that he would fax something over.’

  Although I wanted to defend Reece as much as I could, I had to be honest. ‘When Reece first came to me he was very confused and angry. Right at the beginning we had some incidents of aggression, but he responded very quickly, and we have had nothing since.’ Mr Fitzgerald continued to look at me carefully and I knew he doubted what I was saying. ‘As I told the meeting this morning, Reece has settled down remarkably well,’ I said, ‘although I can see where this type of behaviour has come from. Without doubt he has resorted to learned behaviour from his past with his mother.’

  ‘I appreciate that,’ he said, ‘but I can’t have it in school. I have spoken to the director of education, and I shall be excluding Reece for the rest of the day. Normally I would issue a formal exclusion for three days following an incident of this nature. However, the director of education has advised me not to. I am therefore making allowances for Reece’s appalling past, the fact that he has only just joined us and that there are only three days next week before we break up for Easter. I shall make this an unofficial exclusion. He will be allowed back into school on Monday, but I shall be monitoring him very closely.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Thank you very much.’ I was truly grateful: an unofficial exclusion meant that it wouldn’t appear on Reece’s school record. The last thing he needed was another exclusion.

  ‘You must make it very clear to Reece,’ the head continued, ‘that I will not tolerate this type of behaviour in school. It is vicious and very
upsetting for everyone. When I spoke to him he seemed oblivious to the fact that he had hurt Mrs Morrison, let alone his anger and foul language. I assume that is how his mother behaves.’

  ‘Yes,’ I agreed, ‘she does. I will be speaking to Reece very firmly when we get home.’

  ‘I appreciate he has had a very bad start in life,’ he said, ‘but if Reece is to make anything of his future, then he is going to have to learn what is right, and change. When he is out of control, as he was in the classroom, it is very frightening for those around. Miss Broom said she feared for everyone’s safety and some of the girls were in tears.’

  I could say nothing but apologize again. ‘Will you please say how sorry I am to Miss Broom, and to Mrs Morrison when you speak to her? I will make it very clear to Reece that this type of behaviour is wrong, and must never happen again. I don’t know why it has happened now.’

  The head looked at me and seemed to still doubt that I really couldn’t throw any light on Reece’s behaviour; it was as if he thought that I must be concealing something, which I wasn’t. ‘All right,’ he said at last. ‘I will take you to him. I have already spoken to him about the incident and why he is going home early, but I don’t know how much he has understood.’

  ‘I’ll explain,’ I said.

  Mr Fitzgerald stood behind his desk and came round. I followed him out of his office and down the corridor where the children were now working in the classrooms. I glanced in as we passed and looked enviously at the small groups of children seated at their tables working together, with the teachers walking between the tables, offering help and advice. How I would have loved to see Reece in there working happily alongside others, but that certainly wasn’t going to happen this afternoon, and part of me now wondered if it ever would.