by Cathy Glass
‘Tayo said the same thing – that if his father knew he was in care he’d be furious.’
‘Yes, I saw it in your report, but as there’s no way of finding his father I can’t explore that avenue any further, unfortunately. I finally told Minty about the phone call and warned her off. She was livid, as you can imagine. First she denied getting the number from Tayo and passing it on, then she said she could phone who she effing well liked. However I did manage to get her to hear that if it happened again I’d have her arrested and stop her from seeing Tayo. She screamed at me that I couldn’t do that. So I said I could, and to watch me. She stormed out, screaming obscenities, so I suppose I should have guessed she might have been waiting for me. God, Cathy. She was so angry, I’ve never seen anything like it, her face was crimson and her eyes bulged.’
‘She’s a very frightening person when she loses control. I know Tayo’s been very scared.’
‘Anyway Cathy, I’ve done my best,’ Sandra said. ‘And I made it clear to Minty that I wouldn’t tolerate her putting the fright-eners on Tayo either. Hopefully when she’s had time to reflect on this she’ll realize that if she wants to keep seeing him, then she’ll have to toe the line. I don’t like using a child like that but it was for her own good and nothing else was going to get through to her.’
We said goodbye, and I sat mulling over what Sandra had said. I decided to play safe and remain vigilant for a few more days. Minty had obviously been enraged by the whole thing and might well confide her fury in her ‘friend’. I wouldn’t relax my guard just yet.
Chapter Seventeen
Falling Out
Tayo had settled easily and comfortably into family life, partly because he was so adaptable and partly because he was delighted to have a secure and safe place to stay at last. Unlike some of the children I looked after, he hadn’t pined for his mother and he now seemed at ease with being Lucy’s and Paula’s younger foster sibling. We hadn’t had any repetition of his manipulative behaviour or lying, or any resentment of what the girls had compared to himself.
I didn’t sit back and congratulate myself though, because I knew it wasn’t that simple. Whatever had happened to him in the past, and the experience of living a life of lying, stealing and fending for himself, wasn’t going to disappear in weeks – but, I felt, it was all looking very positive.
Jill visited as planned on Wednesday, and over coffee and biscuits I updated her on everything that had happened with Tayo in her absence. I also asked her about her family and she said her son was in rehab and doing well.
Tayo had to phone his mother on Wednesday evening. This was the first time we’d have contact using the speakerphone. I’d explained to him what we were going to do and he didn’t object, clearly now able to see that such precautions were necessary and put in place for his safety.
I sat him closest to the phone, pressed the hands-free button and keyed in Minty’s mobile number. We sat side by side on the sofa and listened to the ringing, then the automated message as it switched through to her voicemail. On the third attempt I said, ‘Do you want to leave a message if she doesn’t answer this time?’
He shrugged. ‘No. If she can’t be bothered to answer, I won’t bother to leave a message.’ Which I accepted.
I wondered why Minty didn’t make it a priority to answer the phone, particularly when it had been she who had asked for the phone contact. Apart from disappointing Tayo, it wasn’t helping her chances of having him back, assuming he wanted to go. We had just heard that the final court hearing had been set for 20th October and, although that was still months away, every time Minty let Tayo down, it would be viewed as a further sign of her unreliability and lack of commitment. Added to her volatile and aggressive outbursts, it meant that I had to admit it wasn’t looking good for Minty, although I had seen parents turn their lives around in less than nine months, and then, with help and monitoring, have their children returned to them.
Apart from not doing herself or Tayo any good, every time Minty let down Tayo, it strengthened the idealized picture he had of his father, who was fast becoming faultless in his eyes. For Tayo, his father was turning into the pinnacle of respectability and good fatherhood, a wonderful hero who was out there somewhere waiting to rescue him.
‘My dad would always be there if I phoned,’ he said. ‘I’d wish he’d hurry up and find me.’
I didn’t say anything. One rejection an evening was enough, and I wasn’t going to squash Tayo further. It was obvious that he was starting to rely on the dream of his father as an emotional crutch, and I would have to make it my job to guide him gently to a realization that his long-term future was most likely to be in foster care until he reached adulthood.
Alison Hemming-Sanders, the Guardian Ad Litum, was due for her first visit at four on Thursday. I’d told Tayo she was coming, and explained her role: she would visit every couple of months and talk to him (as she would all the other parties), then draw all the information together and present it to the judge with her recommendation as to what was best for Tayo.
‘Will she visit my dad?’ Tayo asked.
I should have predicted that, I thought. Tayo was mentioning his father more and more. ‘No, darling. No one knows where he is. But when she visits, you must tell her how you feel about him, as you’ve told me.’ It was the best I could offer.
Alison Hemming-Sanders didn’t arrive at four. She phoned at four-thirty to say she had left the office late and was now stuck in traffic. She phoned again at five to say she was still stuck in traffic. Then at five-thirty she phoned to say that she’d abandoned the visit and was now driving home as it was too late. She said she’d phone me the following day when she had her diary to hand to arrange another visit.
I thought an apology wouldn’t have gone amiss, particularly as Tayo had been unsettled as he waited for her arrival and I’d been on tenterhooks each time the phone had rung. I’d also delayed the preparations of the evening meal because I was expecting her at any moment. Sometimes professionals involved in a case appeared to think that foster carers had nothing better to do than wait for them. Guardians Ad Litum, like social workers, varied in their professionalism, conscientiousness and efficiency; I’d had an excellent run so far with Brian, Sandra and Aisha. Perhaps Alison Hemming-Sanders was going to balance this out.
By Friday, when there hadn’t been another threatening phone call, I dropped my guard on the phone and allowed the girls to start answering it again, with the caution that if it was anyone they didn’t know, to call me immediately. Tayo had had another good week at school, despite all the upset surrounding the phone call on Monday. However when I breezed into Tayo’s classroom later that afternoon to collect him for contact, I knew at once that something was wrong. Tayo was ready with his coat on, bag on his back, standing by Mrs Gillings’ desk but he had a face like thunder.
‘I need to have a word,’ Sonya Gillings said ominously. She waited until the rest of the class had left in their Friday afternoon bubble of delight, then turned to me.
‘I’m sorry to say that Tayo was involved in a nasty incident at lunchtime,’ she said gravely. ‘He verbally taunted a boy in the playground then, when the boy ran off, chased him and hit him.’
I looked at Tayo and he stared back. I could see before he spoke that he was going to stand his ground.
‘He called me names,’ Tayo said dismissively.
‘That doesn’t give you the right to hit him,’ I said.
‘And actually the boy didn’t call Tayo names,’ Sonya Gillings put in. ‘I couldn’t get to the bottom of it but from what the other lads said it was Tayo who did the name calling and it was very personal.’
‘Well, he is fat,’ Tayo said, in his defence.
I glanced at Sonya Gillings and she was clearly looking to me to reprimand Tayo.
‘That doesn’t come into it,’ I said sternly to him. ‘You don’t call people names and then hit them. It’s bullying, Tayo. And it’s not nice.’
He sh
rugged. ‘He started it.’
I could see we could go round in circles and I was conscious of the time ticking by. ‘Tayo has contact tonight,’ I reminded Mrs Gillings. ‘I’ll stop his television as a punishment and try and find out more later.’
She nodded. ‘He lost his break this afternoon, and I made him apologize to the boy.’
‘All right. Thank you,’ I turned and began towards the door with Tayo following. ‘I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with this,’ I said to Sonya Gillings before we left. Then to Tayo, ‘I’m not pleased with you. You’ve let me down.’
He followed in silence as we left the building and then walked to the car. Once inside he said, ‘She overreacted.’
‘Mrs Gillings? I doubt it. Bullying is not tolerated in school or at home Tayo, rightly so.’
‘I didn’t bully him. And we’re friends again now.’
I glanced in the rear-view mirror as I pulled away from the kerb. ‘Well, I’m pleased you’re friends again. Did you tell Mrs Gillings that?’
‘Yes, but she wasn’t listening.’
I could understand that, with thirty children on a Friday afternoon, she wouldn’t be hanging on Tayo’s every word. ‘Who was the boy involved?’
‘Sam.’
‘Your best friend Sam?’
Tayo nodded.
Perhaps Mrs Gillings had overreacted, I thought. It sounded more like friends falling out than cold, calculated bullying.
‘But what happened for you to hit him? And I want the truth, Tayo.’
‘He said my mum was a waster, and he’s not allowed to say that, Cathy. I know she is but it’s not for him to say.’ His voice was full of hurt.
While this explanation didn’t justify him hitting Sam, I could see only too clearly how it had happened. We are often happy to acknowledge the flaws and failings in our own families, but let someone else try to point them out and our loyalty and defences kick in at once.
‘I see,’ I said. ‘And you’ve made up your quarrel?’
‘Yes, straightaway, even before Mrs Gillings made me apologize.’
‘OK. But you’ve still lost your television because you should-n’t have hit Sam, whatever the reason.’ And I left it at that.
Although we were ten minutes late arriving at Headline, Minty wasn’t there. Another let down, I thought, as I saw Tayo’s face set in a mixture of disappointment and anger.
Aisha was very kind and said Tayo could wait with her in Yellow Room so that I could leave, adding that if Minty was more than half an hour late, contact would be abandoned because it wasn’t fair for Tayo to be kept waiting indefinitely. I knew that was normal policy because, as with the phone calls, the onus was on the parent to make sure they were available at the set times and therefore reliable and committed.
I went straight home and began preparing dinner. Three-quarters of an hour later the doorbell rang – it was Aisha with Tayo. Minty had phoned the centre and said that she couldn’t make contact but didn’t give a reason, so Aisha had brought Tayo straight home.
After I’d said goodbye to Aisha and closed the door, I turned to Tayo who was obviously very disappointed.
‘Not the best day,’ I said, and gave him a hug. ‘But on the bright side there’s football club tomorrow.’
‘Sam was right,’ he muttered vehemently. ‘She is a waster.’
I looked at him carefully. It was very difficult when a child had a really low opinion of a parent. Harbouring negative feelings for a parent can have a knock-on effect on a child’s self-esteem, making them feel worthless; they seem to feel that if their parent is useless then they must be too. By the time a child can talk, they’ve formed strong attachments to their parents, except in the most serious cases of abuse, and when a parent is demonised the child is thrown into confusion and even self-loathing. There was a lot written on the subject and I had attended many training sessions dealing with it, so I knew enough to be sure that it wasn’t going to help Tayo by calling his mother names and that it was time we had a little chat. ‘Tayo, come with me.’ I said, and went through to the lounge. Lucy wasn’t home yet and Paula was in her bedroom listening to music. ‘Sit down, love, and stop looking so worried. You haven’t done anything wrong.’
Tayo perched on the sofa next to me, still dejected. I took his hand and gave it a little squeeze. At least I could talk to him on a reasonably adult level. It was far more difficult dealing with these issues with younger children or those who had learning difficulties.
‘Tayo, we both know that your mum has a lot of problems and doesn’t always behave as she should. Sometimes she’s happy, sometimes she’s angry, and often she’s confused. It must be very difficult for you to see your mum like that.’ He nodded. ‘But despite everything, she is your mother and I think you’re going to have to be very patient and forgiving, just as you’ve been in the past. You’re your own person, you’re talented and intelligent, and you have your whole life ahead of you. It may not seem like it now but very quickly you’ll be an adult and able to make all your own decisions, and all this will be just a memory. But for now, I think you must accept that you’re going to be disappointed by Mum not doing what she’s supposed to, and just enjoy what time you spend with her. Don’t forget, I’m always here if you want to talk or let off steam. But I don’t think calling your mother a waster, or rejecting her by watching television for the whole of contact, is going to help.’
He nodded.
‘Good boy.’ I didn’t want him to feel responsible for her as he used to, but I did want him to have a bit of empathy for her, and not nurture negative feelings of anger and resentment. When all was said and done, Minty hadn’t been born like that, she had been shaped by her experiences just as everyone is, and she’d obviously had a rough ride. ‘OK?’ I asked him.
‘OK,’ he said, and planted a big kiss on my cheek.
If I hadn’t known better, I might have suspected that Minty had been party to this conversation and decided to give it her best shot.
When we phoned on Saturday evening with the loudspeaker on, she answered immediately and then asked Tayo how he was, and if he had enjoyed football.
Tayo seemed unable to believe his good fortune: here was Mum, coherent and interested. He talked ten to the dozen about football, school and his life with us. And when he asked her how she was managing, she didn’t quite hide her problems from him but said, ‘Not bad, son. No money as usual, but don’t you worry. I’ll get by somehow, I always do.’
I was impressed. This was a vast improvement on the previous litany of hysterical complaints. She apologized for missing contact and when it was time to go said, ‘Love you, son, see you Tuesday.’ She also asked to speak to me.
I lifted the handset and put it to my ear. Although I had to listen to Minty and Tayo’s conversation there was no need for Tayo to listen to whatever Minty wanted to say to me.
‘Hi, Cathy,’ she said. Tayo hovered.
‘Hello, Minty. How are you?’
‘You know because you’ve been listening,’ she snapped, and for a moment I thought she was going to lambast me, but she changed tack again. ‘I’m sorry I missed contact but I had to see a solicitor. He’s going to get Tayo back for me. In the meantime, I want you to look after my son properly.’
Her tone wasn’t threatening, so I said soothingly, ‘Of course, Minty. Please don’t worry. Tayo is settled and doing very well.’
‘I guess you know what you’re doing.’
As there appeared nothing more she wanted to say, I finished the call politely, saying how much Tayo was looking forward to seeing her on Tuesday and wishing her a good weekend.
She scoffed at that, and then was gone.
I smiled at Tayo. ‘That was better, wasn’t it?’
He beamed back with a nod, and went off to his bedroom to play with his army of toy soldiers.
While it seemed that Sandra’s words had had an effect on Minty, I doubted that she had missed contact because she was seeing a solicitor. I’d n
ever known a solicitor book a client with a contentious case to discuss at four o’clock on a Friday afternoon, and if he had, then Minty would have known of the appointment beforehand, and had time to rearrange contact. I also knew that a solicitor dealing with a care order would never have said he would get the child returned – it would be highly unethical, particularly so early in the case.
Dealing with Minty was like dealing with a big child – the excuse of seeing a solicitor was probably the first thing that popped into her head and sounded important enough to merit missing contact. But, on the positive side, I was pleased she hadn’t given this excuse to Tayo, and doubly pleased she had managed to control herself reasonably well and have a sensible conversation with him. It was a step forward, and if she continued in this manner, the future of their relationship looked a lot brighter.
Chapter Eighteen
Review
Under the Children Acts, every child in care has a series of regular reviews. These are meetings for those immediately involved with the child, to look back over the child’s life since the last review and see what has happened – good and bad – and plan future work. It is also a monitoring system to make sure everything is being done for the child, and that the adults involved are doing what they should under the Acts. The review is usually held either in the foster home or in the Social Services offices.
