by Cathy Glass
The following morning, when I mentioned to Joss that she no longer had nightmares, she said, ‘I have nice dreams now. Last night I dreamt we were on the beach.’
‘That wasn’t a dream,’ I said, smiling. ‘We went there.’
‘I know, but in my dream we were all there. You, Adrian, Lucy, Paula and my mum, dad and Kevin. It was a lovely dream, Cathy. We were having so much fun, I didn’t want it to end.’
‘That was a nice dream,’ I said. ‘I’m sure you’ll have plenty more like that.’ I knew from my amateur psychology that this was a good sign, a sign of recovery, and that the parts of Joss’s previously fractured life were gradually coming together to be reconciled.
‘Where do you think Mum and Kevin are now?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know, love. I haven’t heard anything since I spoke to Jill on Friday evening. I’m sure we’ll know more when everyone is back at work tomorrow.’
‘Can I phone Nana and Grandpa again? They might know where they are, and even if they don’t, I’d like to talk to them.’
This was a decision I could make – I didn’t have to phone my agency for advice – but I had some concerns.
‘You can,’ I said after a moment, ‘but I’d like to make the call to check it’s convenient with your grandparents. If it is, I’ll put the phone on speaker while you chat.’ I was playing safe. There’d already been too many mistakes and oversights with Joss’s case; I didn’t want to be responsible for any more.
‘All right,’ Joss agreed. ‘Thanks.’
The two of us went into the living room where we sat side by side on the sofa. Adrian, Lucy and Paula were upstairs having a leisurely morning after our busy Saturday at the coast. I picked up the handset and pressed the number for Joss’s grandparents, which I now had stored in the phone. Her grandfather, Andrew, answered with a rather formal, ‘Good morning.’
‘Good morning, Andrew. It’s Cathy, Joss’s foster carer.’
There was a short pause. ‘I see. How can I help you?’ he said reservedly.
‘Joss would like to talk to you, but I wanted to make sure it was convenient with you first.’
‘Yes, that’s fine,’ he said, relaxing. ‘We’re going to church later, but we’ve plenty of time.’
‘I’ll put her on, but I need to tell you that my phone will be on speaker.’ (I was obliged to tell him I would be listening to the call.) ‘I thought it sensible with everything that’s been going on so there can’t be any misunderstanding.’
‘Most definitely,’ he said reasonably. ‘Quite understand. We’ve got nothing to hide.’
‘Thank you. I haven’t heard anything from the social services since Friday, and Joss was wondering if you knew where her mother and Kevin were.’ I thought it best to ask the question.
‘They’re still here,’ he said buoyantly. ‘The social worker phoned and said Kevin could stay until Monday as long as we supervised Linda with him and didn’t let Eric have contact with him. Let me say hello to Joss, and then if you put your phone on speaker I can tell you both what happened, save repeating it all.’
‘They are there,’ I said to Joss as I pressed the speakerphone button. ‘He can hear you now.’
‘Hi, Grandpa,’ Joss said.
‘Hi, sweetheart. How are you?’
‘Good. We went to the seaside yesterday. Mum and Kevin are still with you?’
‘Yes, they are, for the time being. After we spoke on Friday and Cathy told the social services they were here, a social worker telephoned us and asked lots of questions – about Nana and me, and your mum and Kevin, and whether we saw Eric. The social worker said that Kevin was going to be taken into care and I told her I wanted him and your mum to stay with us while everything was sorted out. The social worker phoned back later. It was nearly midnight and Kevin was in bed, and she said Eric had been found. She asked us more questions and then said that as it was very late it would be less disruptive for Kevin if he stayed the night with us. Then on Saturday another social worker telephoned and asked if we could keep Kevin for the weekend, as there weren’t any foster carers available. She didn’t seem to know that I’d already told the first social worker your nana and I wanted him and your mother to stay, but never mind, we got there in the end. So Kevin is with us for the rest of the weekend, and then tomorrow your nana and I are taking him to school in the car. After that, we’re going to the social services so I can speak to a social worker in person and try to get this sorted out. I don’t want you to worry, love. I’ll take care of everything.’ Again, I hoped he was right and wasn’t giving the children false hopes.
‘How’s Mum?’ Joss asked. ‘Is she feeling a bit better now?’
‘She’s very low, pet, but we’re helping her all we can. I’m sure she’d like to speak to you. Have a chat with Nana and Kevin first, while I go and see if she’s awake. She’s having a lie down.’
‘Thanks, Grandpa. I love you,’ Joss said.
‘I love you too, lass. Here’s Kevin.’
Kevin came on the line. ‘Joss.’
‘Hi, Kev, how are you doing?’
‘Good. I miss you.’
‘I miss you too, but you’re having a good time at Nana and Grandpa’s,’ Joss said, upbeat.
‘Yes. Grandpa plays games with me and shows me card tricks, and Nana makes chocolate cake and ice cream.’ I smiled.
‘That sounds great,’ Joss said, keeping the conversation light. ‘Lucky you. You’ll never guess where we went yesterday – to the seaside.’
‘Wow. I wish I could go.’
‘We will when we’re all together again – you, me, Mum, Nana and Grandpa.’
‘Like we used to with Dad,’ Kevin said.
‘Yes,’ Joss said with a sad smile. ‘But you don’t remember that, you were too young. You were only three or four the last time we went.’
‘I do remember it!’ Kevin said indignantly. ‘I buried Dad’s legs in the sand, and then yours and Mum’s. You all looked so funny.’
‘Yes, you did,’ Joss said, surprised. ‘There’s a photo at home of us all. It was the last time we all went on a family outing before –’ She stopped, and then said, ‘We will go again, Kev, I know we will.’
They chatted for a while longer, mainly about what it was like living at Nana and Grandpa’s, but Kevin also said they were taking him to church later while Mum had a rest. Then his voice fell. ‘I may have to go into foster care, like you,’ Kevin said. ‘Grandpa told me he’s going to try to make it so I can stay here, but if he can’t I will have to live with a foster carer.’ It was sensible of Andrew to prepare Kevin for this eventuality, painful though it must have been for him to do so. ‘I hope I don’t have to,’ Kevin said. ‘I told Grandpa to tell the social worker that if I can’t live with Mum, I want to stay here with him and Nana.’
I think Joss knew it wouldn’t be that straightforward. ‘Don’t worry, Kev, Grandpa will do all he can. And if you do have to go into care, it’ll be fine – we will still see each other.’
Joss changed the subject and asked Kevin what card tricks Grandpa had taught him, and they talked about those for a while. Then Kevin said he had to go and get ready for church, and that Nana wanted to speak to her now.
Joan’s voice came on the line and she asked Joss how she was. She then said they were doing all they could to try to persuade the social services to allow Kevin to stay with them, and Joss too, if she wanted. ‘Grandpa thinks it’s best if we go and see the social worker in person tomorrow,’ Joan said, as Andrew had done. ‘So once we’ve taken Kevin to school, we’re going straight to their offices.’ I hoped they wouldn’t be disappointed, for I knew social workers’ diaries filled quickly with meetings, home visits and court cases.
Joan reassured Joss that Kevin was fine and then said, ‘Your mum has come down and would like to talk to you, so I’ll say goodbye for now. Phone us whenever you want. We’re always pleased to hear from you.’
‘Thanks, Nana. I will. Love you.’
&
nbsp; ‘Love you too, pet. Stay strong. I’ll say a prayer in church that we can all be together soon.’
There was a short pause as Joan passed the phone to Linda, and then Linda’s quiet, fragile voice came on the line. ‘Hello, Joss,’ she said tentatively, as if she hadn’t the right to speak to her daughter. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m all right, Mum. How are you?’
‘Trying to hold it all together.’
‘Nana and Grandpa are looking after you?’
‘Yes. They are.’ Linda sounded depressed, as though each word was an effort. I assumed her parents would arrange for her to see a doctor if they thought it was necessary.
‘We went out for the day yesterday,’ Joss said, trying to make conversation.
‘That’s nice,’ Linda said, her voice flat.
‘And I’ve had a good week at school,’ Joss continued. ‘I’ve been doing my homework and paying attention in class. Miss Pryce saw me on Friday and said I was doing really well and that all my teachers were pleased with me. I’m going to work hard. I want to do well.’
‘That’s good,’ Linda said.
‘I feel better as a person,’ Joss continued. ‘I’m making new friends and I don’t go out every evening any more. I stay at home with Cathy and don’t get into trouble.’
‘Good,’ Linda said lifelessly.
‘I know there’s a lot of stuff to come,’ Joss said, ‘but if I take it a bit at a time, I think I can deal with it. The social worker is going to get me some counselling.’
The emotion Linda had been keeping a lid on now broke out. ‘I’m so sorry, Joss,’ she cried. ‘It’s all my fault. You were right to blame me. If I’d believed you from the start, none of this would have happened. I’ll never forgive myself.’
‘Mum, don’t cry,’ Joss said. ‘I don’t blame you any more. We can get through this together, and Nana and Grandpa will help us.’
Linda cried even more. ‘I’ve been so stupid,’ she said, her breath catching. ‘I let you and Kevin down in the worst possible way. I’m not fit to be a mother. I keep thinking of what your father would say if he could see us now. If he knew how I’d let you down. I’m so ashamed. I brought a man into my home and let him abuse you. Then I didn’t believe you when you told me. It makes me as bad as him.’ And she wept uncontrollably.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bittersweet
Joss’s bottom lip trembled; she was close to tears, as indeed I was. Linda’s grief was agonizing and I thought she must be near breaking point.
‘Mum, it’s not your fault,’ Joss said, her voice shaking. ‘I don’t blame you. He was a good liar. I can see why you believed him. We’ll come through this, I know we will. Nothing can be as bad as Dad dying, and we got through that, didn’t we? Kevin and I need you, Mum, just as we’ve always done. I know if Dad is looking down on us, which I feel he is, he won’t blame you. He’ll be helping us get through this like he used to help us. He loved us, Mum, and we love you.’
I blinked back my tears and touched Joss’s arm comfortingly. The poor, dear child, how brave she was being, trying to reassure and support her mother. Her touching, heartfelt words didn’t ease Linda’s distress, though, and her uncontrollable weeping was harrowing to listen to. I was thinking we should end the call and say we would phone back another time, but then Andrew’s voice came on the line and Linda’s crying receded into the background.
‘Nana is taking your mum to have a quiet sit down,’ he said to Joss. ‘Try not to worry, love. We’re looking after her. I’ll phone you this evening.’
‘Thank you,’ I said.
Andrew and Joss said goodbye and the line went dead. We continued to sit side by side on the sofa and I tried to reassure Joss, as Andrew had, that her grandparents would take good care of her mother and she shouldn’t worry. To be honest, I felt the phone call had done more harm than good, for although Joss now knew that Kevin and her mother were safe, Kevin could only definitely stay with the grandparents for the weekend and might then have to go into foster care. And to hear her mother so distraught was disturbing and an added anxiety for Joss, who was already having to cope with so much. Unsurprisingly, she was quiet and withdrawn for the rest of the day, and the good effects of our outing the previous day disappeared. Of course, it wasn’t long before everyone else in the house knew what had happened, so the whole family was down. We ate lunch with little conversation and then later in the afternoon Joss came to me and voiced a concern that had been playing on my mind too.
‘Cathy, I’m really worried Mum might try to do what Dad did,’ she said, her face knitted with anxiety.
‘No, she won’t,’ I said firmly. ‘Your grandparents are looking after your mother and keeping a close eye on her. They won’t let any harm come to her.’
‘But they can’t watch Mum all the time,’ Joss said, no less concerned. ‘And it doesn’t take long to kill yourself. Mum was only out of the house for half an hour when Dad did what he did. Can we phone Nana and Grandpa to make sure Mum’s OK?’
I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 3.30 p.m. ‘Your grandpa said he’d phone this evening,’ I said. ‘I think we should wait a while. He and your nana have a lot to do. If they haven’t phoned by seven o’clock, we’ll phone them.’ I didn’t want to keep bothering them, and Joss accepted this.
True to his word, just after six o’clock Andrew telephoned. Joss and I sat side by side on the sofa again with the phone on speaker. Joss began by asking about her mother.
‘She’s a bit brighter now, lass,’ Andrew said positively. ‘She came with us to church and she’s had something to eat. She’s having a rest now and she’s going to see the doctor next week.’ He didn’t offer to put Linda on to speak to Joss, and I thought this was probably for the best. When Joss and her grandpa had had a chat he put Joan on, and she too was positive. They chatted about general things – what they’d been doing during the day – and then she reassured Joss that everything would be all right.
When Kevin came on the line he sounded cheerful and told Joss that Grandpa had taken him to the park in the afternoon, while Nana had stayed at home with Mum. He said that Grandpa had been on the children’s swings and the roundabout with him, and then he laughed as he described their attempts at playing on the see-saw. ‘Grandpa couldn’t get off the ground because he’s so much heavier than me,’ Kevin said, chuckling. ‘I was up in the air with my feet dangling and then I came down with a bump when he got off.’ Joss laughed too.
It seemed that Andrew had also taken the opportunity to have a chat with Kevin about what he could expect to happen, for he told Joss, ‘Grandpa says I will have to talk to a police officer about what Eric did, and he’ll write it all down for the judge.’
‘That’s right,’ Joss said. ‘It’s called a statement. I’ll have to make one too. It’s nothing to worry about. I’ve done it before. You have to tell the truth.’
‘Yes. Grandpa says it’s important I tell the police officer everything that happened. I don’t think Eric was a nice man, was he? Not like a proper daddy. He pretended he was, but he wasn’t really.’
‘No,’ Joss agreed. ‘He wasn’t nice. Not like a daddy at all.’
My heart went out to them; two children having their hopes of a family life shattered in the cruellest possible way, and after everything they’d already been through with their father’s suicide. It was so unfair.
Then Kevin said, ‘Will the police officer give me a sticker for being brave, like they do at the dentist?’
Joss and I both smiled. ‘They might,’ Joss said. ‘But if not, I’ll buy you lots and lots of stickers.’
‘Promise?’
‘Yes.’
‘The shiny Batman ones?’
‘Yes, whatever you like.’
Joss and Kevin chatted for a while longer and then the conversation ended with Joss saying she’d phone every day, which I assumed would be all right with the grandparents and social services.
That night Joss took
a while to settle, so I sat with her, talking quietly about all sorts of things, until she dozen off. Once asleep, she slept through until I woke her for school the following morning. I felt relieved to have the school routine to fall back on, with its comforting familiarity, after all the trauma and uncertainty of the weekend. After breakfast and before we left the house, I presented Joss with a front-door key of her own.
‘Oh,’ she said, pleasantly surprised. ‘Thanks. I guess I’m behaving myself and being responsible now.’
‘You certainly are, love, and I’m very proud of you.’
She gave me a big hug and then told Adrian, Paula and Lucy that she had a front-door key like them. Even though Joss wouldn’t have much opportunity to use the key, as I was collecting her from school and she didn’t go out in the evenings any more, it was a sign that I trusted her and considered her mature enough not to abuse the privilege. When she’d first arrived I’d promised she could have a key when her behaviour had improved, and I always try to keep a promise.
I took Joss to school that morning and returned home. I knew there would be a lot going on and I needed to be contactable. I wondered how Andrew and Joan were faring at the social services, and if Linda was with them. I shared Joss’s concern that her mother was so distraught she could harm herself, although I certainly wouldn’t be telling Joss that.
Jill telephoned mid-morning but didn’t really have any new information. She said she’d left a message on Amelia’s voicemail to call her when she was free. Then she asked me how we all were, and if there’d been any new developments at my end. I told her we’d had a day at the coast on Saturday, and then gave her a brief summary of the two phone calls we’d made to Joss’s grandparents the day before. Jill knew the rest from having been on duty over the weekend. She said she’d phone again when she had any news.
