Saving Danny

by Cathy Glass

  We stood on the doorstep and waved them off. I was sorry to see them go, but also slightly relieved. Danny’s behaviour had put me under a lot of pressure, and I’d been torn between spending time with him and my parents. I’d telephone them later and try to explain the reasons Danny behaved as he did. I knew they’d understand. They appreciated the difficulties many of the children we fostered faced. However, Lucy, Paula and Adrian weren’t so forgiving.

  ‘He’s ruined our day,’ Lucy declared.

  ‘Nana was so worried about you,’ Paula said.

  ‘So was Grandpa,’ Adrian added, which made me feel guilty.

  I understood my children were upset at having their day spoilt, and I also – more than ever – understood why Reva had stopped socializing and now led an isolated life. But that wouldn’t help Danny. He needed socializing, by gradually meeting new people and experiencing new situations. Perhaps if I’d explained to him in more detail beforehand what a visit from my parents actually meant he might have found the experience less difficult. Next time I would prepare him better – and there would certainly be a next time, for Danny’s sake.

  After my parents had gone Danny came downstairs and, without speaking, went to the back door. He seemed instinctively to know that it was time to feed George and settle him for the night. Only Paula and I went outside with him – Adrian was on the telephone and Lucy, still unhappy with Danny, said she had ‘things to do’.

  As the three of us went out and round the back of the house we stopped dead. Toscha, who until now had been afraid of George and had kept clear of him, was now at the hutch, standing on her back legs with her front paws resting against the wire mesh, sniffing through the small gaps. George, unafraid, was on the other side with his nose up to hers. ‘Look, they’re making friends,’ I said.

  Paula smiled.

  ‘They’re making friends,’ Danny repeated, and took a step towards the hutch. Toscha, intent on sniffing George, didn’t run off as she often did when Danny was close, worried by his loud noises and unpredictable behaviour. ‘Making friends,’ Danny said, and took another tentative step closer to Toscha.

  I felt the atmosphere shift, as though something new and exciting was about to happen. Danny took the final step that brought him to Toscha and he slowly extended his hand and began lightly stroking her back. It was the first time he’d shown any interest in her or touched her. Then he looked up at me and, making eye contact, said, ‘Danny making friends.’

  I felt my eyes filling. ‘Yes, Danny is making friends with Toscha,’ I said. ‘Well done, Danny.’

  ‘Danny making friends,’ he said again later as we went upstairs to begin his bedtime routine.

  ‘Yes, you have made friends with Toscha,’ I said. ‘And Toscha and George have made friends too. That’s very good.’

  As Danny began his meticulous and protracted bath and bedtime routine I took the opportunity to talk to him about the importance of friendship and how we went about making friends. Although this comes naturally to most children – through example and by socializing with similar-aged children – it doesn’t come naturally to a child with difficulties like Danny, who didn’t understand the world around him and had never been encouraged to socialize. It was impossible to know how much of what I said he understood, as he often echoed my words and phrases, sometimes later using them in the correct context, but other times not. On this occasion, though, an incident followed that showed he had understood. As we left the bathroom and went round the landing to his bedroom, Lucy came out of her room.

  ‘Danny’s going to bed now,’ I said. ‘Would you like to say goodnight to him.’ I liked the children to say goodnight to each other. It was a pleasant way to end the day and drew a line under any harsh words or arguments that had taken place so they could start afresh in the morning.

  ‘Goodnight,’ Lucy said not too enthusiastically, and began downstairs.

  ‘Goodnight,’ Danny repeated. There was a pause and then his little voice called out, ‘Is Danny Lucy’s friend?’

  Lucy stopped, turned and began back upstairs. Kneeling on the top stair so she was at Danny’s height, she said, ‘Yes, you are my friend, Danny. But the next time Nana and Grandpa come you must be good. Do you understand?’

  Danny nodded, although I doubted he understood what was required ‘to be good’, as it was such a loose and ill-defined phrase.

  ‘Danny Lucy’s friend?’ he asked her again.

  ‘Yes, you are my friend,’ Lucy confirmed.

  ‘And Lucy is Danny’s friend,’ I said, trying to show him that friendship was a two-way process. ‘You’ve made friends with Lucy.’

  It was one of those moments that stay with you. His face lost its usually blank, sometimes angry, expression and broke into a smile. ‘Danny’s made friends,’ he said. ‘Danny’s made friends. Danny’s made friends with Lucy.’ I could see Lucy was as moved as I was.

  ‘Yes, you’re all friends,’ I said. What better way to end the day!

  Chapter Seventeen

  Terri’s Visit

  ‘Danny’s made friends,’ he told Paula, Lucy and Adrian as they arrived at breakfast the following morning, dressed for school.

  They agreed with nods and grunts befitting a Monday morning.

  ‘Danny’s made friends,’ he told Yvonne when we met her in the playground for the start of school.

  ‘Fantastic!’ she said, clasping her hands together. ‘So you’ve had a good weekend, Danny.’

  Danny nodded.

  ‘It began and ended well,’ I said, throwing her a knowing look. I didn’t have to say more. Yvonne had been working with Danny and other special needs children long enough to know that their behaviour was often volatile and unpredictable.

  ‘Danny’s made friends,’ he said again, now tugging Yvonne’s arm to regain her attention.

  ‘That’s great,’ Yvonne said. ‘Is this with a child who lives near Cathy?’

  Danny looked lost, so I explained about the friendships that had been cemented at my house.

  ‘I see,’ Yvonne said. ‘So, Toscha and George are friends, and you are friends with all of Cathy’s children. That’s wonderful. I’m sure lots of children in the class want to be friends with you too.’

  The whistle blew for the start of school, so I said goodbye and watched Danny go with Yvonne to join his class. The day passed as Mondays often do with clearing up after the weekend, and then paperwork for the training I would be helping to run. When I collected Danny that afternoon at the end of school the first thing he said was, ‘Danny making friends.’

  ‘Excellent,’ I said.

  ‘He’s had a good day,’ Yvonne confirmed. ‘I’ve written in his home school book.’

  I thanked her, praised Danny, and then on the way home I told him that his social worker, Terri, was coming to visit us at four o’clock. I hadn’t told him that morning as it would have been something else for him to accommodate and worry about during the day, and he was easily overloaded with information. I also emphasized that Terri was a very nice lady who was helping him and his parents, for the last time he’d seen her it had been traumatic and he’d run off and hidden in the school fields. I explained to him carefully what he could expect from her visit: that she’d spend time talking to him and me to make sure he was all right, and then she’d leave and we’d have our dinner.

  ‘George,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, you’ll be able to take George for his walk too,’ I said. ‘Just as you always do.’

  On arriving home, and following his usual routine, Danny went into the garden to give George a walk. He was still there fifteen minutes later when the doorbell rang, signalling Terri’s arrival. Paula was with us and I asked her to stay with Danny while I went to let in Terri.

  Having exchanged a good afternoon with Terri, I told her that Danny was in the garden giving George some exercise and that I’d bring him in.

  ‘Leave him for now if he’s happy,’ Terri said. ‘It’ll give us a chance to talk firs
t.’

  She went through to the living room and I went outside to check that Paula could stay with Danny while I spoke to Terri; she was happy to. I also told Danny that Terri was here but he could stay in the garden for a little while longer, and then I would call him in. He didn’t reply.

  I went indoors and into the living room. Terri was standing at the patio windows watching Danny with George. ‘He loves that rabbit,’ she said. ‘It was in their house when I visited Danny, before he came into care. I was surprised that Reva allowed it inside – her house is immaculate. But she said a little mess was worth it to keep Danny happy.’

  I nodded. ‘They’re inseparable, and I’m sure having George here has helped Danny to settle here.’

  Terri left the window and sat in one of the armchairs. I offered her a tea or coffee, but she said she’d just had one. I sat in the chair that gave me the best view of the garden so I could keep an eye on Danny. Terri took a large notepad and a pen from her bag-style briefcase. ‘So, how has Danny been?’ she asked, pen poised. ‘Is he still eating and sleeping well?’

  ‘He’s sleeping very well,’ I said. ‘He has a soft toy, also called George, which he cuddles up to in bed. He sleeps with his bedroom door closed, the curtains slightly parted and the light on low.’ Terri wrote as I spoke. ‘Danny goes right down under the duvet to sleep, so I usually go in and move it down once he’s asleep, so he doesn’t get too hot.’

  ‘Any nightmares?’ she asked as she wrote.

  ‘No, not so far. He’s been sleeping well.’

  ‘And eating?’ Terri asked. ‘Reva said Danny is a very fussy eater; that’s why he’s so small. I’ve written to his doctor asking for a report.’

  ‘Danny eats very slowly, but then he’s slow and meticulous in most of the things he does. He spends a lot of time cutting up his food and arranging it on the plate before he starts eating. He loves design and patterns and sees them everywhere. He creates patterns out of his food and likes to eat the palest first.’

  ‘So he is a fussy eater?’ Terri said, looking up.

  ‘Not really. He takes his time, but he usually finishes his meal. I tend to think of fussy eaters as those who will only eat certain foods.’

  ‘And he eats with you and your family?’ Terri asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He doesn’t at home,’ Terri said bluntly. ‘Reva gives Danny his meal first and then he’s in bed before she and Richard have theirs.’

  It wasn’t for me to criticize Reva, although I felt family mealtimes were important, as I’m sure Terri did.

  ‘And how is Danny’s behaviour generally?’ Terri now asked. ‘I phoned Reva this morning and she told me he was uncontrollable on Saturday when they went shopping.’

  ‘We had a mixed day too yesterday,’ I said, and I briefly explained Danny’s behaviour during my parents’ visit while Terri made notes.

  ‘But his behaviour is manageable?’ Terri asked.

  ‘Yes. It’s tiring. You have to reinforce the boundaries and keep a watchful eye on him. Everything needs to be carefully explained beforehand and then repeated, but he usually gets there in the end.’

  ‘So if you can manage Danny’s behaviour, why can’t Reva?’ Terri said abruptly.

  I met her gaze. ‘I’ve had a lot more experience of looking after children than Reva, including those with special needs. I’ve also attended training and have a degree in Education and Psychology. Reva hasn’t had the benefit of any of that, and from what I’ve seen she’s very vulnerable right now and feels Danny has rejected her. She considers Danny’s negative behaviour as a failure on her part, and takes it personally. I don’t think she gets a lot of support either.’

  ‘No. Richard is never there and Reva’s parents live a long way away. She has a sister, whom she used to be close to and who doesn’t live far away. But she hasn’t seen her for nearly two years. Reva said her sister’s three kids are angels and her sister could never understand why Danny behaved as he did. The inference being it was Reva’s and Richard’s parenting skills that were at fault.’

  ‘That wouldn’t have helped Reva,’ I said. ‘And Reva has no support from Richard’s family either?’ I asked.

  Terri shook her head. ‘Richard’s parents are alive and well, and don’t live far away, but Richard never takes Danny to see them. Reva doesn’t see them now either, although they still see Richard’s children from his first marriage sometimes.’

  ‘It’s a pity Danny can’t see them. Grandparents are so important,’ I said, thinking of my own dear parents.

  ‘It’s one of the issues I shall be discussing with Richard when I finally meet him,’ Terri said. ‘And unless there’s a good reason why Danny shouldn’t be in contact with his grandparents, then I will want visits to start when and if Danny returns home.’

  I heard the word ‘if’ and went cold. ‘Is there doubt that Danny will return home?’ I asked. ‘I thought Danny was in care voluntarily under a Section 20, at the request of his parents.’

  ‘He is at present,’ Terri said. ‘But I can change that if necessary and apply for a court order. I’ve had a discussion with my manager and we have concerns. Reva’s drinking, for one, and that she believes Danny doesn’t have any feelings. Danny’s isolation. And Richard’s refusal to cooperate. There are a lot of unknowns, and Richard is not acting in Danny’s best interest by refusing to allow the educational psychologist to assess him or to meet with me.’

  Although I was slightly relieved that Terri already knew of Reva’s drinking and I wouldn’t have to tell her, I was very concerned that the social services were considering applying for a court order. If that happened, Reva and Richard would have limited contact with Danny and it would be supervised. They would have to mount a court case to show why Danny should be returned to their care.

  ‘Reva says Richard can’t accept there’s anything wrong with Danny,’ I said, feeling I needed to say something in their defence.

  ‘Then he has to discuss his worries with me,’ Terri said curtly. ‘I haven’t been able to see him yet. He’s always working. We’re all busy, but I would have thought that having your child in care should be pretty near the top of your priorities.’

  I could see Terri was annoyed, and I knew that Richard had done his wife and child a great disservice by not making time to meet with her to discuss Danny.

  ‘Danny talks and communicates with you and your family?’ Terri now asked.

  ‘Yes, a little, in his way,’ I said. ‘It sometimes takes us a while to understand what he is saying, but we can usually work out what he wants. He’s far more fluent with George,’ I added with a smile.

  Terri nodded. ‘I know. Reva said. Danny had some speech therapy before he went to school, but it was stopped. I think because Danny wouldn’t engage. His teacher thinks some more now he’s older would be helpful, and I’m inclined to agree. What do you think?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure it would help,’ I said.

  Terri made a note. ‘Does Danny have tantrums and meltdowns with you like he does at home and at school?’

  ‘Yes. Sometimes. I think it’s largely a result of frustration – not being able to express himself or understand what is required of him. He can easily become overloaded and panic. And possibly he’s scared. He’s had so many changes recently. He’s coping as best he can.’

  ‘I can tell you like him,’ Terri said, glancing up. ‘You’re making excuses for him.’

  I was slightly surprised by her comment. ‘I don’t think Danny sets out to be naughty, he just can’t cope,’ I said. ‘He needs boundaries, as all children do. Of course we like Danny, we’re all growing very fond of him. And George,’ I added, for I could see Paula running up and down the garden happily with George and Danny.

  ‘And Danny is doing his homework – the targets from his education plan that Sue mentioned?’ Terri asked.

  ‘Yes, I have a copy of the plan and we have a home school book too. I’ll fetch his school bag.’ I knew that the child’s
social worker usually liked to check on their school work when they visited. As I went down the hall to fetch Danny’s school bag the front door opened and Lucy let herself in.

  ‘Hello, love, have you had a good day?’ I asked her.

  ‘Not bad.’

  ‘Danny’s social worker is in the living room, and Danny and Paula are in the garden giving George a walk.’

  ‘I’ll join them,’ she said. She dropped her school bag in the hall and went out through the kitchen, calling hi to Terri as she went.

  I returned to the living room and gave Terri Danny’s school bag, and then sat in the chair with the view of the garden. As Terri looked through Danny’s reading book, flash cards and the home school book, I watched Danny, Lucy, Paula and George in the garden. Although Danny couldn’t express his emotions, he was nevertheless, in his own way, bonding with my family, as we were with him. Words are not the only way we tell others how we feel; body language plays an important part too, and I could see that Danny was as relaxed and happy as he could be.

  ‘Have you seen what Danny’s teacher has written today?’ Terri asked, glancing up from the home school book.

  ‘No. Not yet.’

  ‘I’ll read it out,’ she said with a smile. ‘Danny has been very enthusiastic in making friends today. He sat on a big table with other children for lunch, but he became a bit upset when they finished their meals first and went into the playground. Yvonne explained to Danny that friends don’t always do as we want them to, but they are still our friends.’

  I also smiled. ‘That’s nice. Yvonne is very good with Danny. She has endless patience and knows how to calm him.’

  ‘And her sense of humour must help,’ Terri said.

  ‘Absolutely,’ I agreed.

  ‘Here’s a copy of Danny’s care plan,’ Terri now said, passing the papers to me. ‘And I’ve set the date for Danny’s review. Two weeks on Wednesday at ten-thirty in the morning, so Danny can go to school as normal.’ I opened my diary and entered the date and time of Danny’s review. ‘I’ve informed Jill,’ Terri said. ‘I’ll send out the invitations tomorrow. Is it still all right to hold it here in your house? It seems appropriate.’