The Saddest Girl in the World

by Cathy Glass

  There was another long pause before Paula said, ‘It's not what she's done but the way she looks at us. It's like she's telling us off with her look, without saying anything.’

  I paused and considered this. ‘Can you explain a bit more, or show me the look?’ I didn't dismiss what Paula said as childish sensitivity because I was well aware that control could come in many shapes and forms, and once the seeds of control (or fear) have been sown, a look can reinforce it as much as any words. Parents use the technique as a normal part of child rearing: the look, the warning that the child has done something that has overstepped the mark, and they'd better not do it again — a censorious expression. Although I had been very vigilant, I now wondered if I had missed something. Was Donna trying to control Paula and Adrian by a look? Perhaps along the lines her mother had done at home (and was possibly still doing at contact)?

  ‘I can't make the face she does,’ Paula said. ‘It's in her eyes, the way she looks, like this.’ She widened her eyes and glared at me in an expression of ‘I'm warning you: I know what you're up to, and you'd better watch out or else.’ ‘Adrian can tell you better,’ Paula said. ‘It's not nice, it frightens me and I don't want to go to her party.’

  ‘All right love,’ I said. ‘Thanks for telling me. I'll talk to Adrian, and then I'll work out a way to put it right. I just wish you had told me sooner. Next time something bothers you, tell me: don't brood on it.’

  She nodded. I lay on the bed next to her and read her a bedtime story; then, reassuring her again that I would put it right, I kissed her goodnight and came out. Donna was in her room, getting ready for bed. I could hear her moving around; it always took her a while before she settled. I went into Adrian's room. He was propped up in bed, reading.

  ‘It's not time to say goodnight yet,’ he said.

  ‘No, love, I know. But I need to talk to you about something Paula has just told me.’ Once again, I sat on the edge of the bed. Adrian put down his book, and I repeated what Paula had said. By the time I'd finished, Adrian was nodding furiously. ‘She does this,’ he said, and widening his eyes, he glared at me with a really angry, accusing, threatening expression; whether it was exaggerated or not I didn't know.

  ‘So why didn't you tell me?’ I said. ‘You're older than Paula. I would have thought you could have come and told me.’

  ‘You're always so busy with Donna,’ he said, echoing Paula's words. ‘I was going to, but when I thought about what I could say — “I don't like the way Donna looks at me” — it sounded silly. So I stick my tongue out when she does it to me. But it frightens Paula.’

  I looked at him as his gaze fell to his open book. How many times since I had started fostering had I reminded myself to make sure my time was divided equally between all my children — continuously? It was something that was always on my mind. But if I was honest, I could see that when I looked after a child with a high level of needs, as in Donna's case, I had to give the fostered child more than their fair share of attention, to welcome and settle them into our family and ensure all their needs were met — apparently to the detriment of Adrian and Paula.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said.

  Adrian looked up and shrugged. ‘It doesn't matter.’

  ‘It does matter,’ I said firmly. ‘I realise now how much time I have been putting into Donna. I just assumed you two were all right but now I know, I shall be able to do something about it.’ Adrian nodded. ‘I will be keeping a close eye on Donna. I like her a lot, but she has been treated very badly by her family. I think she is copying the way she was treated at home. She doesn't know any different, and part of our job is to show her a different way. But I'm not having you and Paula upset. It makes me sad, Adrian. I love you both so much.’

  ‘I know,’ he said quietly. ‘We love you too.’

  ‘So will you work with me on this? And tell me if anything else crops up in the future?’ I couldn't have a sub-plot running in the family, with Adrian and Paula in collusion and not telling me. A foster family is a unit where all members pull together, including natural and foster children, with no double standards; otherwise it's impossible to make it work.

  ‘Yes,’ he said.

  ‘Good boy. Thanks, Adrian. I'll leave you to your book now. Hopefully in a week's time, when it's Donna's party, you and Paula will feel comfortable enough to join in, and enjoy it. There's only us, her brothers and Emily going.’

  He nodded and picked up his book. I kissed his forehead. ‘It's eight thirty. I'll come up again in half an hour to say goodnight.’ I left him once more immersed in Roald Dahl's Revolting Rhymes, which apparently they were studying at school.

  I didn't raise the matter with Donna that night, for when I thought about it, what could I have reasonably said? ‘Donna, Paula and Adrian don't like the way you are looking at them. Could you stop it, please?’ Such a complaint seemed as ‘silly’ to my ears as it had done to Adrian's, and also I wanted to see at first hand what exactly they were talking about before I said anything to Donna.

  I didn't have to wait long.

  The following morning at breakfast I was presented with a classic example. Paula was sitting opposite Donna at the table, with Adrian to her side. The three children were eating, and I had just made some fresh toast and was carrying it through to take my place at the end of the table. A cornflake dropped off Paula's spoon on to the table and I saw Paula immediately look up at Donna, as though expecting censure. She was well rewarded: Donna's eyes widened and she stared at Paula — an all-in-one package of anger, chastisement and a warning that it shouldn't happen again, or else!

  ‘It's only a cornflake,’ I said to Donna, ‘and there's no need for you to tell her off.’

  Donna looked at me, shocked and surprised by my sudden insight. ‘I didn't say anything,’ she said.

  ‘No, you didn't have to. Does your mother look at you like that?’

  Donna looked doubly shocked by my second stab of insight and stopped eating her wheat flakes.

  ‘Does she?’ I asked. ‘Because if so it's not nice.’

  She didn't say anything but remained very quiet and still, as did Paula and Adrian. I didn't think that Donna was particularly concerned about the cornflake being dropped and making a (small) mess; it was that she was reverting to learned behaviour, seizing any opportunity to discipline, blame and punish a family member as had happened to her at home.

  My voice was even but firm, as I buttered my toast and continued, ‘Harsh words are bad, but harsh looks are equally bad,’ I said. ‘They can make you feel uncomfortable and threatened. There is a saying — a picture paints a thousand words, and your look just now, Donna, painted a picture of anger with a punishment to follow.’ I looked around the table. ‘We are a family here — all four of us,’ I said, ‘and we work together as a family. If anyone has a problem they come to me, and I will try to put it right. I am the adult, the parent here, and if any one of my children — Adrian, Paula or you, Donna — needs correcting in any way, I shall do it. I will not have anyone else trying to tell another family member what to do, either through words or looks. It's a form of bullying. And no one bullies anyone in this family, or anyone outside it.’ They were quiet and I felt the atmosphere weigh heavy, for rarely did I speak so harshly, and to everyone. Normally I dealt with the little incidents that arose individually, but clearly this was a whole family matter and needed direct, collective and immediate input.

  ‘So now we will finish our breakfast and get ready for school,’ I said. ‘And I don't want to see any more looks or tongue poking from anyone. Do I make myself clear?’

  Adrian and Paula nodded, very subdued. Donna remained quiet and still. I picked up my toast and continued eating. Adrian finished first and left the table to go to the bathroom and brush his teeth. I looked between Donna and Paula.

  ‘You know, Donna,’ I said more gently. ‘Paula could be like a little sister to you. You never had a younger sister at home and she's dying to play with you.’

  Paula
looked hopefully at Donna, and we both waited, but still feeling bruised by my lecture, Donna wasn't about to give anything away just yet. After a moment she shrugged and then picked up her spoon and began eating again. When Paula had finished she left the table to take her turn in the bathroom. I looked at Donna again. ‘That look you have been giving Paula and Adrian — is that what your mother has been giving you at contact? I know your mum can't say horrible things to you at contact because Edna stops her, but a look is easy to hide and just as hurtful. Particularly if it has a history and makes you remember hurtful things that happened in the past.’ Donna gave a small nod. ‘She always does it.’ ‘OK, I'll speak to Edna. You should have told me. Your mum shouldn't behave like that, and you mustn't do it here any more. Now go into the bathroom when Paula has finished and do your teeth. We're going to give out your invitations to Emily, Warren and Jason today,’ I added brightly.

  Donna left the table without saying anything, and sulking. But now that I'd spoken directly and firmly the matter was dealt with and would be put behind us, although obviously I would still be vigilant. Old habits die hard and Donna had spent all her life learning this behaviour, so it wasn't going to disappear overnight.

  After I had taken the children to school I telephoned Edna and explained what had happened. Edna treated the matter with the seriousness I had done, well aware that fear and control come in many forms. She said she would watch Rita closely, and asked me to tell her immediately if Donna said she had experienced the look again at contact. I also told Edna that Donna was giving out party invitations today — to Warren, Jason and Emily — but in view of the Guardian's advice we wouldn't be giving one to Chelsea, with which Edna agreed.

  ‘Donna's birthday is on a Monday,’ Edna said, ‘so I'll do a special tea at contact that evening, and I'll remind Rita and Chelsea to buy a present. In fact I think I'll buy presents for them to give to Donna, because Rita will say she hasn't any money. If I give her money it's sure to go on something else — drink. Have you got any suggestions for presents?’

  ‘Donna likes making things,’ I said. ‘How about some sort of craft set? A jewellery-making set or basket weaving? We've bought her a bike. She's never owned a bike before.’

  ‘That's very generous of you, Cathy,’ Edna said. ‘Is the birthday money enough to cover it?’ She was referring to the allowance that is paid to foster carers towards the cost of the looked-after child's birthday present and party. It wasn't enough to cover it, but if foster carers kept only to the allowance, children would have pretty meagre birthdays.

  ‘No problem,’ I said. ‘It has helped towards the cost.’

  By the time I collected Donna from school that afternoon the heavy atmosphere of the morning had lifted, and she told me she had given out her invitations and Emily had immediately said she could definitely come.

  The following day, without the quick turnaround necessary for contact, I made a point of seeing Emily's mother, Mandy, and confirmed the arrangements for Sunday. Emily hadn't been to tea yet — I had left an open invitation with Mandy — and Mandy was very pleased that Emily would be going to Donna's party, for like Donna, Emily found it difficult to make friends. I told Mandy who would be going to the party, and she said she would drop Emily off at the bowling alley at 2.30 p.m., and then collect her at the end at 5.oo. She also asked what Donna would like for a present. I said I'd give it some thought, but I was sure Emily could suggest something; as her best friend she would know what Donna liked.

  The week as usual ran away with us, and very quickly it was Friday and Donna's party was two days away. However, this took a back seat on Friday morning when Donna went into school to be tested on her three times table. We had been practising the three times all week, as we had done the previous week with the two times table, and I wished her luck, as did Adrian and Paula. We'd had only two incidents of Donna giving that ‘look’ to Paula, and I'd dealt with it by saying a firm ‘No’ to Donna. Adrian and Paula seemed more relaxed in her company now that they were aware I was dealing with the situation. Donna had accepted my ‘No’ and spent only a short while sulking, for she was too excited about her party to sulk for long.

  It was only when I arrived home on Friday morning, having dropped the children off at school, that I realised I hadn't had confirmation from Mary and Ray that Warren and Jason would be coming to Donna's party, although I'd assumed they would be. Occasionally I saw Mary and Ray going in or coming out of school, but not often, and I wouldn't have the chance to seek them out in the afternoon because I had to do the quick turnaround for contact. I thought I would give them a ring, just to confirm that the boys had shown them the invitations and would be at the bowling alley at 2.30 p.m. for Donna's party. I phoned at lunchtime, Mary answered, and I knew immediately something was wrong.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Birthday Party

  ‘Cathy,’ Mary said slowly, as though gathering her thoughts. ‘I was going to phone you. I have been putting if off, in the hope that the boys could be persuaded to change their minds.’ I didn't say anything, and waited as Mary paused again before continuing. ‘I'm sorry, Cathy, but Warren and Jason are saying they won't come to Donna's party. I have been trying to persuade them all week, but they are stubbornly refusing.’ She stopped, and I could tell she was as uncomfortable and disappointed to be giving me the news as I was to be receiving it.

  ‘Why not?’ I asked. ‘There's only Warren, Jason, Emily and us going. There's nothing for them to be worried about. You can stay with them if they want you to.’

  ‘No, it's not that,’ she said, and she paused again. I thought, what on earth is it then? This is the boys' sister's birthday we're talking about! ‘Look, Cathy, I don't know if the boys have been got at by their mother or whether it's a continuation of their behaviour towards Donna from the past. But they are both saying they won't come to the party, and have rightly pointed out that Ray and I can't force them to go. I told Edna yesterday, and she asked me to talk to them again to see if I could find out what the problem was, and if I could get them to change their minds. I can't. Edna said she was going to speak to you later today.’ Mary stopped and there was a very awkward silence.

  ‘Donna will be very disappointed,’ I said at last. ‘She has been planning this party all week. It's all she talks about. It won't be much of a party with just Emily and us there.’

  ‘I know,’ Mary said sadly. ‘That's what I told the boys, but they just shook their heads and wouldn't budge.’

  ‘And they haven't said why they don't want to come?’

  ‘Not exactly, although Warren said, “Mum wouldn't like it,” which is why I'm pretty certain it's come from Rita. The boys went to a friend's birthday party last Sunday with no problem; they're not shy. I'm sure Rita has told them not to go.’

  ‘That's dreadful,’ I said, appalled. ‘If that is so, then Rita is still managing to victimise Donna, even from a distance! It could only have happened at contact. Somehow Rita has got at them.’

  ‘I know. That's what Edna said. Although she's no idea how. I didn't push it with her, because she's such a dear and I know she feels it personally. Edna never leaves them alone at contact, but of course she only has to turn her back for a second and Rita could have easily whispered in Warren's ear. Jason does as his older brother says.’ I thought that with this, and the looks she had been slyly giving Donna, Rita was running rings around Edna at contact.

  ‘All right,’ I said, sad and deflated. ‘I'll have to try to think of a way to tell Donna, although goodness knows what I'm going to say.’

  ‘Do you want to tell her the boys are ill?’ Mary asked. ‘I wouldn't normally suggest lying, but I can't think of anything else.’

  ‘I don't know. I'll phone Edna and see what she thinks. If the boys do change their minds, will you let me know?’

  ‘Yes, of course, but I don't think they will. They are adamant. I'm so sorry, Cathy. I know how you must be feeling. I have bought a nice present for the boys to give t
o Donna, and also one from Ray and me. I'll send them with the boys to contact on Monday.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, no less disappointed. ‘Let me know if they do change their minds, even if it's on Sunday morning.’

  ‘I will do, but honestly Cathy, they wouldn't dare go against their mother, even now.’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I know.’

  We said goodbye and I put the phone down, my heart heavy and my plans for Donna's party falling apart. What mother does that to their daughter, I thought? It was vindictive to an unprecedented extent. Not only had Rita made Donna's life a misery for all the years she had been at home but she was now finding ways to continue doing so. By stopping the boys going, Rita was not only reinforcing her rejection and control, but also continuing to reinforce Donna's brothers' rejection of her. It was unbelievable. Rita must have known how much Donna's party would mean to her, particularly as it was the first one she'd ever had, and now she was sabotaging it! It was only ever going to have been a small affair because Donna only had one proper friend, and Rita couldn't even allow her that. I silently cursed the woman who, as far as I was concerned, had absolutely no claim to the title of mother apart from that of having given birth to her. I sincerely hoped she got her comeuppance one day.

  I hovered by the phone, my mind frantically searching for any way to salvage Donna's party. There was no one else in her class she wanted to ask, and it was probably too late anyway to start issuing more invitations now. I considered phoning around my friends who fostered and inviting them and their children to the party, but what would have been the point in that? A party of strangers was hardly likely going to recompense Donna for her brothers' refusal to go. No, we were just going to have to do our best and make the most of it.