by Cathy Glass
Chapter Twenty-one
A Kind Person
The court case ended after two days and the judge gave his decision on the morning of the third. Edna phoned from outside court and said the judgement was as they'd expected, and Donna and her brothers would be staying in foster care.
‘Good. Well done,’ I said, which was in recognition of the hard work Edna had put in to secure the children's futures.
Edna said she'd like to see Donna and me later in the day, and also that she'd taken a photograph of Chelsea and her baby, Cindy, to give to Donna. ‘Will it be all right if I visit at five thirty?’ she asked.
‘Yes, absolutely.’ And my heart skipped a beat at the thought of the question I was sure Edna was going to ask.
Having collected the children from school, I made our evening meal earlier than usual. I knew that what Edna had to say wouldn't take five minutes, and everyone would be hungry if I waited until after she'd gone. I hadn't said anything to Adrian and Paula about the outcome of the court case (or my hopes of Donna staying with us), for Edna should speak to Donna first.
Uncharacteristically Edna arrived nearly half an hour late. ‘Sorry, Cathy,’ she said, hurrying in out of breath. ‘It's been non-stop, all day.’
I offered her a drink and she gratefully accepted a cup of tea. ‘I'd like to speak to you before I speak to Donna,’ she said. ‘Can we go somewhere alone?’
I could guess why.
Edna called ‘Hello,’ to Donna and Paula who were playing in the front room, and I showed her through to the lounge. Adrian was upstairs, doing his homework in his bedroom.
‘Thank you very much,’ she said as I handed her the tea. ‘It was after three o'clock by the time I got back to the office, and there were two emergencies needing my attention. Roll on retirement!’
I nodded, and, sitting in the chair opposite, waited for the important news she brought.
Edna took a few sips of her tea and then returned the cup to the saucer in her lap. ‘So, Cathy,’ she said with a small sigh and looking at me. ‘We have the Full Care Order on Donna and the boys. The case for Chelsea has been adjourned so that I can assess her with the baby. I've got to go back to court in two months with that.’ I nodded. ‘I was able to tell the judge how well Donna and the boys have settled, and how much improvement the children have made since coming into care. The judge has upheld my plans for them. We are going to try to find adoptive parents for Warren and Jason, who will be placed together. Failing that it will be a long-term foster placement, but I'm hopeful we can find them an adoptive family. They are young enough to adjust.’
‘Yes, indeed. And how nice for them to have a fresh start,’ I said, willing her to move on to Donna.
‘Absolutely. I want to get that going as soon as possible.’ Edna paused and took another sip of her tea, and I wasn't sure if it was my imagination but I thought she looked as though she was hesitating, or perhaps summoning up the courage to tell me something. She returned her cup to the saucer with a small chink, and then looked up and smiled at me reassuringly. ‘Donna will remain in long-term foster care, Cathy. And after a lengthy discussion with my manager, we feel that it would be best if she was placed with a black carer or a couple who reflect her ethnicity.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Oh, I see.’
Edna smiled kindly. ‘I know, Cathy. Donna has done incredibly well since she's been with you. I'm so grateful to you and your family, but the issue of her cultural identity remains. It wasn't a decision we took lightly, but we really do feel Donna should be found a family who can help her with her cultural identity. You remember when she was trying to rub her skin off?’
‘Yes, but she hasn't done that for a long time,’ I said, almost as a plea for her to stay.
‘No, I know, thanks to you. But I think you will agree that Donna is still struggling with her self-image. Only last week her teacher overheard her telling Emily that she wished she was white like her.’
‘Did she?’ I asked, taken aback. ‘I didn't know.’
Edna nodded. ‘You have done so much for Donna and I can't thank you enough, but in respect of her cultural needs the scars inflicted by her mother run deep. The Guardian and judge agreed this would be best addressed in a black or dual-heritage family. I realise this will mean another move for Donna when she is so settled with you, but it's thought it's for the best. I hope I've made the right decision, Cathy. You will of course keep in touch with her; it's important that you do.’
‘Yes,’ I said, finally coming to terms with what Edna was saying. ‘Yes, of course we will. We're going to miss her very much.’
‘I know you will, and she'll miss you.’
Although the news wasn't what I'd anticipated, or wanted to hear, I could see the truth in what Edna had said, and if I was honest I suppose part of me had wondered if Donna's cultural identity would come into Edna's plans for Donna's future.
‘I shall also be looking for a family where there are no younger children,’ Edna added. ‘You have coped remarkably well, but I don't want a repetition of what happened here with Paula and Adrian.’
‘Donna wouldn't do that again,’ I said defensively. ‘That's all under control now.’
‘I know, and Adrian and Paula have been so accepting of Donna, but Donna does need a lot of attention. I'm hoping to find her a family where the carers' own children are older, or have even left home. Donna is an absolute credit to you, as are Adrian and Paula.’
‘Thank you, Edna,’ I said, although the praise did nothing to soften my disappointment. ‘I'll have to let Adrian and Paula down gently,’ I said reflectively.
Edna nodded, then finished the last of her tea while I remained quietly watching her.
‘In a minute when I see Donna,’ Edna said, ‘I'll tell her the outcome of the case, but I'm not going to say anything yet about the proposed move. I have a meeting with the Family Finders team later this week, but as you know it could take months to find a suitable family. I don't want Donna becoming unsettled here. Once we have identified suitable carers I will speak to her and explain.’
‘All right,’ I said. It was a sensible decision. It wouldn't have helped Donna to know at this point.
‘Now to the matter of contact,’ Edna said. ‘We will be reducing it to once a month straight away for Donna and the boys to see their mother.’
‘Good,’ I said.
‘It will still be supervised, but I will be handing over the supervision to someone else. Once Donna and the boys go on to permanency it will be three times a year.’
I nodded. This was usual for children who wouldn't be returning home. Otherwise, if they were continually seeing their natural parents there was less chance of them settling and bonding with their ‘forever families’, as they are known.
‘Once the children have moved I shall be arranging extra sibling contact,’ Edna continued. ‘It's not necessary now, as Donna and the boys see each other every day at school. Does Donna want to see Chelsea and the baby?’
‘I'm not sure. I told her the news and suggested we bought a card, but Donna said she would think about it. She's still thinking about it as far as I know.’
Edna smiled. ‘OK. I'll talk to her about that in a minute. I've brought the photograph.’ She placed her cup and saucer on the coffee table and, opening her briefcase, passed me the photograph.
Chelsea was sitting in a chair beside her hospital bed; the iron bedhead and white cotton pillows were to the left of the photo. Baby Cindy, wrapped in a white blanket, was asleep on Chelsea's lap with her head resting on Chelsea's arm. Chelsea wasn't looking down at the baby as many new mothers do but stared into the camera. Her young, vulnerable face seemed to say it all: a mixture of surprise, shock and distance, as though she was struggling to come to terms with what had happened. She looked so lost that my heart went out to her. If ever a girl had needed looking after it was Chelsea.
‘She's agreed to go into a mother and baby unit,’ Edna said.
‘Good,’ I sai
d, handing back the photograph. ‘Hopefully Chelsea will be able to keep her baby.’
‘Hopefully,’ Edna repeated. ‘I'll see Donna now then, please, Cathy.’
I went through to the front room and told Donna that Edna wanted to see her, and I also told the girls to say goodnight to each other, as it was Paula's bedtime. Leaving Edna with Donna in the lounge, I took Paula upstairs.
‘Is Donna staying?’ Paula whispered as we turned the landing, for even Paula, at her age, knew that the final court hearing meant decisions.
‘Yes, for now,’ I said. ‘The judge has decided she won't be returning home.’
‘Good,’ Paula said. ‘Her mum is horrible.’
I perched on the edge of the bath and looked at Paula as she washed her face. ‘You know, love, Donna's mother wasn't born horrible. I know she's done bad things to Donna but she hasn't always been like that. Perhaps her mother wasn't nice to her. Since Donna has been with us we've shown her a different way to behave so that if she has children one day, she'll know how to treat them and love them properly.’
‘Donna will make a good mother,’ Paula said, drying her face on the towel. ‘She's a kind person. She doesn't get angry with me any more.’
‘That's right, love. And she was never really angry with you. It just came out that way.’
‘I won't get angry with my children, and Donna won't get angry with hers,’ Paula said decisively.
‘I know, love, you are both very kind people. And I love you!’
Giving Paula a big hug, I then went with her to her bedroom and saw her into bed. I had just started reading a bedtime story when I heard Edna call from the hall. ‘I'm off now, Cathy.’
‘I'll finish your story in a minute,’ I said to Paula, and kissing her forehead, I went downstairs.
‘Everything all right?’ I asked Edna as I met her in the hall. Donna was still in the lounge.
‘Yes, Donna is fine. I've explained the judge's decision, and given her the photograph. She doesn't want to see Chelsea yet, so I've told her to tell you if she changes her mind. Now I must be getting back to my hubby.’
It was after 7.30 p.m. and I doubted Edna would have finished yet; having spent all morning in court and away from her office, she would doubtless have some reports to write. I opened the front door and wished her goodnight.
‘Oh yes,’ she said, suddenly remembering something. ‘About the therapy.’ She lowered her voice so that Donna couldn't hear from the lounge. ‘I feel it should wait until after her move. It would be too much for Donna to begin therapy and cope with a move to permanency.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘And there's no urgency for therapy now. Donna is doing so well.’
‘I know,’ Edna said with a smile. ‘Thanks to you. Goodnight and God bless, Cathy.’
‘And you, Edna.’
Chapter Twenty-two
Marlene
Life continued as usual for us while the ‘family finding’ for Donna went on unseen in the background (and unknown to Donna, Adrian or Paula). I felt very sad sometimes as I watched Donna going about a task, or playing with Paula and Adrian, aware that at some point she would no longer be with us. Edna asked me to send her a full-face photograph of Donna, which was easy, for I had plenty to choose from. This would be used to ‘advertise’ Donna in fostering magazines, and also on flyers sent to approved foster carers. Beside her photograph would be a small piece about her, and the type of family that was wanted. Advertising a child is an emotive issue but has been shown to be highly effective in finding the right family for a child — for how else can prospective parents be paired with children in need of a family? — although the child is never aware they are being ‘advertised’.
I expected the family finding to take some time for Donna, as the social services were looking for quite a distinctive family — black or dual heritage, and with no younger children — which would obviously limit the number of applicants. This was fine with me, for while I recognised Donna needed to be settled with her forever family as soon as possible for her own good, on a purely selfish level, I was pleased we had the extra time with her. It was the middle of September, and Donna had been with us for over a year, when Edna phoned me out of the blue to say Family Finders had found a good match for Donna, and could I attend the ‘matching meeting’ scheduled for the following Wednesday.
‘Er, yes,’ I said, quickly coming to terms with what I was being told. ‘Yes, of course.’ The matching meeting was to make sure the carers, or carer, who'd come forward, wanting to parent Donna, were the most appropriate, before the match was approved by the ‘permanency panel’ and Donna was told. Having been part of this process before, I knew how it worked, and also that it did work: mistakes were very rare.
‘Her name is Marlene,’ Edna said. ‘She's lovely, but I'll let you be the judge of that.’ Which was all I would know about Donna's new carer until I met her at the meeting.
The children had returned to school for the autumn term, the week before — Adrian was in the first year of his new grammar school, Paula had gone up a year in her junior school and Donna was in the final year of her junior school. The matching meeting was scheduled for 10.00 a.m., at the social services office, and I made my way up the various flights of stairs towards the small committee room with no small amount of trepidation. For when all was said and done I was about to meet the person who would be taking over from me and would eventually become as close to Donna as I had been.
Going into the committee room, I smiled at the assembled group, then took a chair at the large square wooden table. Joyce, from the permanency team, whom'd I'd met before, was chairing and opened the meeting by asking us to introduce ourselves. Apart from Joyce, Jill, Edna and myself, there was Marlene, her link worker Carla, and Lisa, a trainee student social worker who would be taking the minutes. Marlene was sitting directly opposite me, and I eyed her suspiciously. She was certainly an attractive and elegant-looking woman, but would she make a good mother for Donna? I tried to remain objective as I scrutinised her, without appearing rude. Her brown skin was almost the same as Donna's, and her hair was black and well oiled, as I'd tried to do for Donna. Her large dark eyes seemed warm as she looked at me and smiled. I guessed she was in her early fifties, and she wore a light pink jumper and black skirt. She sat upright, with her hands folded loosely in front of her on the table. When she spoke, she had the faintest hint of an accent, a milder version of Granny Bajan's Caribbean accent. She must have felt self-conscious, for the meeting centred on her, but she didn't show it and appeared calm and dignified.
Having introduced ourselves, Joyce explained the purpose of the meeting for the minutes, then asked Edna to give us an update on Donna. Edna would have met Marlene at least once prior to this meeting, as well as having read Marlene's details and discussing her application to foster Donna with Joyce from the permanency team. Likewise Marlene would have had the chance to read the details about Donna, and would also have had the opportunity of discussing these with Edna and Joyce. Edna was being asked to bring Marlene up to date, therefore, adding to what Marlene already knew about Donna.
Edna looked at Marlene as she talked about Donna's continued progress — during the summer holidays and now she had returned to school. She described Donna's personality, elaborated on her background before she came into care and described some of the problems we'd encountered in the early days, all of which Marlene would have had some knowledge of from her previous meeting with Edna and Joyce. ‘Donna wants to be a nurse when she grows up,’ Edna finished by saying.
I nodded and smiled. ‘She talks of nothing else,’ I said, ‘and is always administering medicine to her dolls.’ Everyone smiled. The mood of the meeting was relaxed and informal, for this was about the beginning of a new family where Donna had a new mother and Marlene a daughter, unlike some of the meetings I attend, which are very serious and formal and deal with abuse before a child is brought into care.
‘Perhaps you would like to continue?’ Joyce a
sked me.
I nodded and took Donna's Life Story book from my bag and passed it across the table to Marlene. I had begun the book when Donna had first arrived and it was now bulging with photographs, paper memorabilia such as cinema tickets and school merit certificates, and with a handwritten commentary from me. I compiled a Life Story book for all the children I looked after and it was an important and ongoing piece of work that the child took with them. For unlike one's own children, who are continuously surrounded by their past in the form of other family members and their shared memories, once the fostered child had left, particularly if they didn't keep in touch, the Life Story book was the only evidence they had of their time with us, together with their own memories.
Marlene turned the pages as I spoke. I began by saying, as Edna had, how much Donna had improved since she'd been with us, and how loved she was by my family. I went over the problems we'd encountered, and how I had dealt with them. It was no good giving Marlene an unrealistic account, for that would have been dishonest, and also left her ill-prepared for any problems that might arise, particularly in the early days when they were still getting to know each other. I told Marlene why I thought Donna had behaved as she had, setting it in the context of her past. So I described her bullying of Adrian and Paula as a result of the bullying and degradation Donna had endured in all the years she'd lived with her mother.
‘So when my niece and nephew visit I should keep an eye on them?’ Marlene asked, glancing up from the Life Story book. ‘They are five and six years old.’
‘To begin with, yes, I think so,’ I confirmed, and Edna nodded. ‘We haven't had an incident for nearly four months now, and I'm sure we won't have another one, but it's as well to be cautious to begin with.’
