Saving Danny

by Cathy Glass

  At the beginning of April Danny began speech therapy, once a week for half an hour, at school. He could have gone to the clinic, but it was decided it would be less disruptive for him to stay at school where he felt safe, and to see the speech therapist during morning break. There was no immediate improvement in Danny’s speech, but I hadn’t expected there to be. I knew it would be a long process, but at least it had started. Jill, as usual, telephoned me each week for an update, but I hadn’t heard from Terri since the review. Neither had Jill. This wasn’t unusual, as there are peaks and troughs of activity in fostering. There is often a lot going on when a child first arrives, and then it tends to settle down until a decision is made on whether the child can return home or needs to be found a new permanent home, either with a relative, via adoption or through a long-term foster placement. In Danny’s case, however, I knew there was a time limit before the social services applied to the courts for an Interim Care Order. It wasn’t fair on Danny to leave him in limbo indefinitely. Although he didn’t say much, he would certainly be feeling the uncertainty of not knowing when or if he could return home, as well as the rejection of not being able to live with his parents. I sometimes try to put myself in the position of a foster child, and I really don’t know how they cope with all the changes and uncertainty. They are true heroes, each and every one of them.

  The routine of contact continued unchanged into April, and Reva maintained her distance and reserve with me. She was always polite but guarded. She didn’t invite me into her house when I took Danny for contact, and didn’t accept my invitation to come into my home when she returned him. She never volunteered any feedback after contact, and if I asked her if it had gone well she always said, ‘Yes, fine.’

  While I was widening Danny’s experiences I was also broadening my own, specifically in the school playground while waiting for Danny at the end of school. He’d made his mother stand on a spot well away from the other parents, possibly trying to replicate his own feelings of isolation. But this was never going to suit me. I like company, so I’d been gradually inching my way across the playground towards where the other mothers waited. Danny appeared not to notice my migration until one afternoon I began actually talking to another mother, whose son was in Danny’s class and also had special needs and found it difficult to make friends. Danny didn’t say anything immediately, but as we left the playground he said, ‘You talked to Simon’s mummy. Why?’

  ‘Because she is a nice lady and she wanted to talk to me and be friends. I think Simon would like to be friends with you too.’

  Danny didn’t reply, but I could see he was thinking hard. Then two days later Yvonne came out of school with Danny on one side of her and Simon on the other. They were all smiling.

  ‘The boys have something to tell you,’ Yvonne said as the three of them approached us.

  ‘Yes,’ Simon said, grinning broadly. ‘Danny is my best friend.’

  And without hesitation Danny said, ‘Simon is my best friend.’

  It was one of those moments that stays with a parent or carer, and I knew that Simon’s mother, like me, would remember it longer than the boys did. Clearly it would take time for them to build on this to make a lasting friendship, but it was a good start and I was very hopeful. Spring had arrived, the days were lengthening and the skies were more blue than grey. Although Danny was hard work, I felt he was making progress and that his parents would see this. I was therefore completely unprepared for what happened next.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  History Repeating Itself?

  It was Thursday and I was in the kitchen clearing up after dinner while I waited for Danny to be returned home from contact. Paula, Lucy and Adrian were in their rooms finishing their homework. When the doorbell rang just after six o’clock I assumed it would be Reva with Danny, but as I opened the door I saw a tall, smartly dressed man standing beside Danny.

  ‘Reva’s ill,’ he said in a rich, cultured voice. ‘She asked me to bring Danny to you.’

  ‘Thank you, and you are?’

  ‘Reva’s husband, Richard.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, mildly surprised. ‘Pleased to meet you.’ I didn’t add ‘at last’. ‘I hope Reva is better soon. Come in.’

  ‘I won’t, thanks,’ he said. ‘I’ve only just returned from work.’

  Slim, with blond hair and blue eyes similar to Danny’s, he wore a stylish tailored suit. I could immediately picture the handsome couple he and Reva made together. Danny adopted his usual routine, yelling, ‘George!’ and shooting down the hall to the back door.

  ‘Danny!’ Richard shouted after him. ‘Come here, now!’

  ‘It’s all right,’ I said, slightly taken aback by the ferocity of Richard’s tone. ‘Danny always sees George when he first gets in. It’s part of his routine.’

  ‘Who’s George?’ Richard frowned, puzzled.

  ‘His rabbit?’ I said, bemused he didn’t know.

  ‘Oh yes. I’d completely forgotten the rabbit was here too. Well, thanks. I’ll be off then.’

  Not so fast, I thought. ‘Richard, I think it would be really nice for Danny if you could manage to stay for a few minutes while he feeds George and settles him for the night. Danny doesn’t see much of you and I know it would mean a lot to him if you could.’ In truth Danny rarely mentioned either of his parents, but I’d put that down to his communication difficulties rather than any lack of feeling. And this was an opportunity too good to miss – not only for Danny, but also for me to have a chat with Richard. He was, after all, Danny’s father, even though he appeared to have minimal input in his life. ‘Just five minutes,’ I added. ‘I appreciate you need to get home.’

  It would have been ill-humoured of him to refuse outright, so with a tight nod he stepped in.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, and closed the door.

  ‘George!’ Danny yelled from the kitchen.

  ‘Sorry,’ Richard said as he followed me down the hall. ‘I’ve told him before not to shout like that.’

  ‘It’s OK. He’s excited,’ I said. ‘Although I am teaching him to speak more quietly when necessary, and so is his teacher.’

  We entered the kitchen. ‘Daddy!’ Danny exclaimed, surprised at seeing his father. He was at the back door yanking on the handle, waiting for me to open it.

  ‘Daddy is going to stay while you feed George,’ I said, with a smile. ‘Then he will say goodnight and go home.’ I didn’t want Danny thinking his father could stay indefinitely and then being upset when he didn’t.

  ‘Daddy,’ he said again, unable to believe his good fortune. ‘Daddy feed George.’

  ‘I’m watching,’ Richard said flatly.

  I went over and opened the back door. Danny shot out first. The sun had only just set and with the added light coming from the kitchen window it was easy to see the hutch and George inside, with his nose pressed against the wire mesh, waiting for Danny. Although I put George in his run during the day when the weather was good, I always returned him to his hutch before Danny came home so I didn’t disturb his routine. Richard stood awkwardly by the hutch with his hands in his trouser pockets as Danny opened the hutch door.

  ‘Have you seen the way Danny relates to George?’ I asked him. ‘It’s really beautiful to watch.’

  ‘Not really,’ Richard admitted, slightly uncomfortable. ‘I work late most evenings, so he’s usually in bed by the time I get home.’ And what’s wrong with the weekends? I thought but didn’t say.

  Danny put his face to George’s as he hugged him. ‘Have you had a good day?’ he asked the rabbit, using a phrase he’d learnt from me.

  George replied by sniffing and then licking Danny’s ear as though he was whispering something to him. It must have tickled Danny, for he giggled. I glanced at Richard, who was watching them, expressionless, apparently unmoved. Then, following his usual routine, Danny checked George’s water bottle, which was still half full, and then took the food bowl from the hutch and set it on the floor.

 
‘I’m going to get your dinner,’ he told George, and closed the hutch door.

  ‘Show Daddy what you do,’ I encouraged Danny.

  Was it my imagination or had Richard winced when I referred to him as Daddy? Without saying anything, Richard followed Danny indoors to the cupboard under the stairs. Continuing his well-practised routine, Danny set down the bowl, opened the cupboard door, unsealed the bag of rabbit food, carefully measured out three scoops and then resealed the bag. He picked up the food bowl and I closed the cupboard door.

  ‘Well done,’ I said, as usual taking every opportunity to praise Danny. Richard didn’t say a word.

  As Danny carried the food bowl through the kitchen a few pieces of rabbit food fell onto the floor. ‘Danny, be careful,’ Richard admonished unnecessarily harshly.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I’ll clear it up later.’

  Outside, Danny carefully set the food bowl on the ground beside the hutch so he could open the hutch door where George was still waiting patiently. I felt sure that what followed next – when Danny said goodnight to George – would move Richard; it was one of the reasons I’d wanted him to see it. Danny began gently stroking George’s head and face, then he rested his cheek against George’s, giving him a hug as he did every night and enjoying the feel of his soft, warm fur against his skin. After a few moments Danny raised his head slightly and whispered to George, as he always did in the evening, ‘You’re safe with me. Thump if you want me. I’ll hear you. I’m up there in my room.’

  I glanced at Richard, who did seem slightly taken aback at how much Danny was able to say, apparently having no idea of the relationship Danny had with George. Danny then kissed George’s cheek in preparation for him going to bed. ‘Goodnight, George,’ he said.

  As usual George responded by ‘kissing’ Danny’s cheek.

  ‘I love you, George,’ Danny said. ‘You’re my very best friend.’

  Richard remained expressionless.

  Danny now picked up George’s food bowl, placed it carefully inside the hutch and then closed the door. ‘Night, George. I love you,’ he said again, and drew the plastic sheet down over the hutch.

  I turned to Richard and to my surprise his eyes had suddenly filled.

  ‘It’s very moving,’ I said, and I touched his arm reassuringly. He turned away, clearly not wanting Danny or me to see his emotion.

  ‘Let’s go in,’ I said to Richard. ‘I’ll make you a coffee.’

  ‘You go in,’ he said, his voice trembling. ‘I’ll follow in a minute.’

  Danny was already on his way in and I went after him, leaving Richard on the patio. It wasn’t until Danny and I were in the hall that he asked, ‘Daddy?’

  ‘He’ll be in soon,’ I said. ‘I want you to get ready for bed now. I know it’s early, but I need to talk to your daddy. Then he will say goodnight to you before he leaves.’ I intended to ask Lucy or Paula to stay with Danny while he got ready for bed so I could sit with Richard for a while. I felt bad he was upset – that hadn’t been my intention; I just wanted him to see how loving and caring Danny was with George.

  As we went upstairs Danny suddenly stopped and asked, ‘School book?’

  ‘Maybe later, if we have time,’ I said. ‘Things are a bit different tonight.’ I sincerely hoped Danny could accommodate the changes, as a tantrum now certainly wouldn’t help.

  Upstairs I found that Paula hadn’t finished her homework yet, but Lucy had and was happy to stay with Danny while he got ready for bed. I told her only that Danny’s father had brought him home and was downstairs and I wanted to talk to him. ‘Call me if you need me,’ I added.

  Downstairs again, I went into the kitchen. The back door was still open and Toscha was just coming in. I found Richard where I’d left him, on the patio and returning a handkerchief to his jacket pocket.

  ‘Tea or coffee?’ I asked him.

  ‘Coffee, please.’

  He came into the kitchen.

  ‘Danny is upstairs getting ready for bed,’ I said. ‘One of my daughters is helping him. I’ve told Danny you’ll say goodnight to him before you leave.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Richard said, subdued.

  ‘Why don’t you take a seat in the living room while I make the coffee?’ I suggested. ‘There’s no one in there.’

  I showed him through to the living room. ‘Do you take milk and sugar?’ I asked.

  ‘Just milk, please.’

  As Richard sat on the sofa I saw his gaze fall on the photograph of Danny on the mantelpiece. When I returned with his coffee, he asked, ‘Where did you get that picture from?’

  ‘I took it,’ I said, passing him his cup of coffee. ‘I like to have a photograph of the child I’m looking after in here with all the ones of my family. It makes them feel part of the family and more at home. I’ve given Reva a copy, and of the others I’ve taken of Danny.’

  Richard took a sip of his coffee. ‘You’ve certainly got quite a collection of photographs,’ he said.

  ‘Yes. I like the reminders of all the children. Danny has a photograph of you and Reva in his bedroom.’

  ‘Did Reva give you that?’

  I nodded. ‘I always try to obtain a photograph of the family for the child. It helps to keep the bond going between contacts.’

  ‘So you’ve been fostering a long time?’ Richard asked, setting his cup lightly in its saucer.

  ‘Nearly fifteen years now,’ I said.

  ‘It must be hard work.’

  ‘It has its moments.’ I smiled. ‘But I enjoy it. You couldn’t foster if you didn’t.’

  He paused thoughtfully and then said, ‘Danny is hard work, isn’t he?’

  ‘He can be at times,’ I agreed. ‘He needs a lot of patience.’

  Richard looked relieved at my acknowledgement. ‘Sorry for breaking down out there,’ he said. ‘I’m usually the strong one.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to upset you,’ I said. ‘I just thought it would be nice for you to see Danny with George. It’s very emotional to watch them and see how Danny relates to George, given how difficult he normally finds it to express himself.’

  Richard nodded. ‘Reva used to say that Danny talked more to George than he did to us. I didn’t really believe her, until now. It’s not very flattering, is it? Having your son talk to a rabbit, rather than his parents.’

  I smiled kindly. ‘Danny finds communicating very difficult. He doesn’t mean to be unkind.’

  Richard took another sip of his coffee. He looked at me and I saw the strong family likeness in his gaze, though without Danny’s reluctance to make eye contact.

  ‘When you said earlier that Danny doesn’t see much of me, you were right,’ Richard said. ‘Reva accused me of having an affair, but I’m not. I think deep down she knows why I stay away so much. I know my behaviour must seem callous to you, but try not to judge me. It was a very difficult decision to put Danny into care.’

  ‘I’m sure it was,’ I said. ‘I certainly wouldn’t judge you.’

  ‘I would, if I was in your position and didn’t know the whole story. The social worker certainly judges me, and she’s never even met me.’

  ‘You haven’t met with her yet?’ I asked, gravely concerned.

  ‘No, and I don’t intend to. I’m not having her digging into my past and telling me I’ve failed. It’s got nothing to do with her.’

  I chose my reply very carefully. ‘I’m afraid Danny’s future does have quite a lot to do with her,’ I said. ‘Danny won’t be returned home unless the social services are satisfied that their concerns have been addressed. You need to start cooperating and meet with Terri.’

  ‘And who says I want Danny to return home?’ Richard asked abruptly, his face tense. ‘I struggle to be in the same room as him, and can’t bear to hear him call me Daddy. I think it would be better if he didn’t return.’

  I went cold. Richard concentrated on his cup as Lucy’s voice floated down from upstairs praising Danny as he went into the bathroom. Richard
leant forward and set his cup and saucer on the coffee table.

  ‘There! I’ve said it,’ he said.

  ‘But surely with support, and once Danny has been assessed, you could find a way forward?’

  Richard was shaking his head. ‘Too many memories, too much baggage, far too many reminders of things I’d rather forget. It’s not fair on Danny.’

  ‘Memories of what?’ I asked.

  There was a long silence before Richard said, ‘Robert.’

  ‘And Robert is one of your children from your first marriage?’ I assumed this, for it was the first I’d heard of him.

  ‘No, he was my brother. He died two years ago.’

  ‘Oh. I’m sorry,’ I said.

  ‘There’s no need to be. It was a release in the end.’

  I waited as Richard summoned his thoughts, clearly about to tell me more.

  ‘Robert was eighteen months older than me,’ Richard began sombrely. ‘But mentally he remained like a three- or four-year-old throughout his life. He nearly died at birth and to be honest it would have been kinder if he had. The toll it took on my parents, looking after him for all those years, was unbearable to watch. Robert was still in nappies when he died aged forty-three, and he took a teddy bear to bed with him every night. He never learnt to speak properly but made noises and pointed to get what he wanted. He had uncontrollable tantrums. A grown man, shouting and screaming and writhing around on the floor! My parents are only in their mid-sixties, but they look much older. They insisted on caring for Robert at home, but it wore them out. And all for what? I don’t think Robert had the least idea who we were. If my parents had put him in an institution he wouldn’t have been any the wiser and it would have given them the chance of a life. So don’t judge me, Cathy, because I know what’s in store if Danny comes home, and I can’t put Reva through that. It would be kinder all round if Danny was looked after by someone like yourself, who has the time and patience to give him what he needs.’

  I was stunned and horrified, not only by Richard’s rejection of Danny, but by the reasons he’d given for leaving him in care. ‘Does Terri know about Robert?’ I asked him.