by Cathy Glass
On Sunday we all went to see my mother, again in two cars, and Kirsty came. As before, we had lunch out and then returned to Mum’s for a cup of tea and a slice of homemade cake. Although it was too much for her to cook meals for us all, she still liked to bake and make puddings, and we loved to eat them! We left with a box of cupcakes, beautifully decorated with icing and edible flowers.
Monday morning arrived and I realized a whole weekend had passed without either of the children being sick. Indeed, when I checked in my log I saw that a whole week had passed, and the last time Molly had become ill was after drinking the chocolate milkshake from contact the previous Monday. Since then, they hadn’t had any more food and drink from their parents, which seemed to add weight to my suggestion it was food and drink the parents were giving them that was making them ill. I was expecting Tess to phone before long, and around mid-morning the house phone rang and it was her. I answered it in the kitchen-diner, upbeat and positive, but I sensed straight away something was wrong.
‘How are you and the children?’ Tess asked, her voice flat.
‘Fine. We’ve had a nice weekend and no one has been sick for a whole week.’
‘Good.’ She paused and then said, ‘I’ve just spoken to your supervising social worker, Edith. I’m afraid I’m going to have to remove Molly and Kit from your care.’
‘What? What do you mean?’ I gasped, thinking I’d misheard.
‘We’re going to have to find the children another placement. Somewhere else to live.’
‘Why? Whatever for? They’re settled here with me.’ I felt my knees go weak, and I leant against the kitchen cabinet for support. Molly and Kit were at the dining table having a mid-morning snack. I thought I must have done something wrong, for why else would Tess be removing the children now? ‘Why?’ I asked again.
‘We’re having the food and drink the parents took into contact last Wednesday analysed to try to establish if it contains anything that could have caused the children to become ill. I explained this to the parents at the end of contact and your concerns about food poisoning. They seemed to accept it, but on Friday their solicitor phoned. Aneta is accusing you of making her children ill. She’s saying if the tests come back positive then it’s your fault, and it must be you who is keeping the food too long.’
‘But that’s ridiculous! I know about storing food and good food hygiene, and the children were ill a lot before they came into care.’
‘I know. But Aneta isn’t open to logic and is insisting that Molly and Kit are removed straight away. If we don’t, their solicitor is threatening to apply to court to have the children returned home. At this stage they could win, as we don’t have enough evidence. As their solicitor pointed out, the children have been ill just as much since they’ve been in foster care as before. You had to take Kit to the hospital just as Aneta did.’
‘But they haven’t been sick for a week – since I stopped giving them the food and drink from contact!’ I cried. ‘You’ve got the food diary too. It shows all those instances where their sickness can be linked directly to food and drink from contact.’
‘But there is nothing to say that it didn’t become contaminated – if the tests show it is contaminated – after it left contact. The children have never actually been sick at contact, it’s always after, when they are with you. Your daughter was sick too, which Aneta is saying suggests the problem is with you. I’m not saying it is, but you can see their point.’
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. ‘But that was the first time Lucy has been sick in years,’ I retaliated sharply. ‘And it was after she’d accidently drunk some of Molly and Kit’s orange juice.’
‘Aneta has told her solicitor that she didn’t give the children orange juice that day but blackcurrant. The contact supervisor’s report just refers to a packet of juice. So we don’t know if it was hers or yours.’
‘It was hers,’ I said. Yet even as I said it I realized it was Aneta’s word against mine. ‘What has Filip said?’
‘He can’t remember what they had to drink, but just wants what’s best for the children. Which of course is what we all want. Even if the test results come back positive,’ Tess continued, ‘we still have the issue of where the contamination occurred. We’ve only got one sample. Had you kept the other items we could have had those tested as well, but this is all we have at present.’
I was stunned. How easy it was to make someone look guilty if you set your mind to it, as Aneta clearly had.
‘And what about the non-accidental injuries?’ I asked. ‘They were part of the reason the children were brought into care, weren’t they?’
‘We’ve got to prove those, and there’s not enough evidence at present if it went back to court. I’m sorry, I know the children are settled with you and you’ve done a good job, but I can’t risk losing a court case and having them returned home now.’
I was bitterly disappointed, but reluctantly I could see the logic in what Tess was saying, although it didn’t make it any easier. I knew of other foster carers who’d had children removed after complaints from a parent. The allegations were unfounded, but the social services couldn’t risk leaving the children with them. If a full care order was made at the final court hearing the social services would have more control, but until then it’s often easier and cheaper to appease the parents than face another court case.
‘When are you planning to remove them?’ I asked, my voice trembling. I glanced at Molly and Kit, who were sitting innocently at the table just finishing their snacks.
‘Edith is finding another carer now, hopefully one in the area who will be able to take them both, otherwise they will have to go out of the county.’
‘Will it be today?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know, but I suggest you start packing their things. Don’t tell Molly and Kit yet until we know where they are going. Sorry,’ Tess said again. Then, ‘Don’t forget they have contact this afternoon.’
‘I won’t.’
I put down the phone and looked at Molly and Kit with tears in my eyes. I couldn’t help it. I was gutted, not only because we would be losing them at such short notice and in these circumstances, but because the move would be very upsetting and unsettling for them. Another family and another home to get used to when they were so settled with us. It was heart-breaking, and at that moment I hated Aneta for what she was putting the children through. I didn’t for one moment think she truly believed I was causing their sickness. She was angry – at having her children taken from her, and that I’d suggested it was food she was giving them that was making them ill. It was a pity Tess had told her. Aneta was now lashing out at me and wanting to get her own back, using Molly and Kit to do so. It was cruel, manipulative and selfish. Most parents of children in care eventually manage to put their children’s welfare first, regardless of how angry they are.
One small mercy was that I didn’t have to tell Molly and Kit they were moving yet – Tess has asked me to wait until she knew where they were going. I doubted I could have told them at present without bursting into tears. When the time came, I would act professionally and try to stay positive for their sakes. Now, I went over, kissed them, praised them for eating their snacks nicely, helped them down, and hugged and kissed them again.
I played with Molly and Kit for the rest of the morning, all the time dreading the moment when Edith would phone saying she’d found new foster carers for them. Tess had told me to start packing, and I would do so while the children were at contact. I made us lunch at one o’clock and we sat together at the table to eat. I thought I’d been hiding my feelings well, but Molly looked at me, worried, and said, ‘Are you sad, Cathy?’
‘A little. Why? Do I look sad?’ I asked, trying to raise a smile.
‘Yes. Like my daddy.’
‘When does Daddy look sad?’
‘When he has to say goodbye at contact,’ Molly r
eplied.
‘Yes, that would make him sad,’ I said, and, putting on a brave face, I changed the subject.
After lunch we played with some of their toys and then I got the children ready for contact. We left around 2.30 p.m. Edith still hadn’t phoned, but that didn’t mean the children wouldn’t be moved that evening if she’d found somewhere suitable. I’d have to tell Paula, Lucy and Adrian when they came home and I knew they were going to be as heartbroken as I was.
I was dreading having to face Aneta again, although Molly and Kit were excited at the thought of seeing their parents – there was no reason for them not to be.
‘I hope Daddy is a horse again,’ Molly cried excitedly from the back seat as I drove. ‘Gee up, horsey!’
‘Gee up!’ Kit said, copying his sister.
I smiled at them in the rear-view mirror, so naïve and trusting. How would they cope with the move, possibly right out of the area? Molly wanted the children’s music on so I fed in a CD.
We arrived at the Family Centre five minutes early and I parked outside. Taking a hand each we went up the path to the front door where I buzzed to be let in. I guessed this would be my last visit to the centre with Molly and Kit, as they were sure to have been moved before the next contact.
The notice about not bringing in food and drink was still in reception. I said hello to the receptionist and signed the Visitors’ Book. As we went down the corridor I felt my heart race as my anxiety levels rose at the prospect of having to see Aneta again. Perhaps she wouldn’t be there, I thought. Perhaps it would just be Filip as it had been on Friday. But my hopes were soon dashed. Not only was Aneta there, but instead of sitting passively on the sofa as she often did, she was standing in the middle of the room facing the door, her expression triumphant. As soon as she saw the children, she flung her arms wide open theatrically and cried, ‘Come to Mummy! You’re safe now.’
Molly and Kit rushed to her while Filip, unable to look at me, said a quiet, ‘Thank you.’
‘Have a nice time,’ I said to the children and turned to leave. As I did I heard Aneta telling the contact supervisor that she was innocent and I was to blame, and her children would be home again soon.
Chapter Eighteen
Leaving
I don’t expect gratitude from the parents of children I foster, but Aneta telling Molly and Kit ‘you’re safe now’ – suggesting they weren’t safe with me – hurt. I wondered what exactly she’d told Tess. It was at times like this that I questioned why I continued to foster. I’d done my best for Molly and Kit and had been rewarded by being accused of harming them – the worst possible reason for ending a placement. Depending on the allegations Aneta had made, I could be suspended from fostering and even reported to the police while I was investigated. Edith would give me the details of what action they proposed to take; it was part of her role as my supervising social worker.
Once home, I poured myself a glass of water and, immersed in gloomy and depressing thoughts, I went upstairs to set about packing Kit’s and Molly’s belongings. Many of Kit’s clothes were in my room so I began there. It was heart-rending folding and packing his little clothes that I’d carefully laundered and dressed him in each day. My only consolation was that the children weren’t being returned home – it was one of the few times in twenty-five years of fostering that I’d felt that way. Although Tess had said she’d yet to prove their injuries were non-accidental, I now believed Aneta was capable of harming them. Using the children against me was the callous act of a vengeful woman. I thought she liked to be in control and if things didn’t go her way or the children were playing up then she could hit out or push them, possibly causing the bruising and broken arm Kit had arrived with. What part Filip had played in the abuse I didn’t know. However, given that he’d worked very long hours and his manner was much gentler than his wife’s, my instinct was that he probably hadn’t played any part at all. Although if he’d been aware of any abuse then he too would be culpable, as clearly he had a moral duty to protect his children.
Having finished packing Kit’s clothes, I took the suitcase through to Molly’s room and continued there. Both children’s clothes were in there and also some of their toys. Many more toys and games were scattered throughout the house downstairs. Closer to when they were leaving, I’d have to gather them all together. As I worked I kept an eye on the time. I had to leave at 4.30 p.m. to collect the children from contact at five. Just after four the house phone rang and I felt my stomach churn. Leaving Molly’s bedroom, I went round the landing and answered it on the extension in my bedroom. It was Edith.
‘I’ve been told we have to move the children,’ she said bluntly with no preamble. ‘I’ve found carers who can take them both, but they are out of the area. I’ve spoken to Tess and she thinks it’s best if the children stay with you tonight, then she will move them tomorrow, otherwise it’s going to be very late when they arrive.’
‘All right,’ I said numbly. ‘What time tomorrow?’
‘I’m not sure yet. It will depend on when Tess is free. I’ll phone you once I’ve heard.’
‘OK, but I’ll need some notice to pack the rest of their belongings. Do you know what Aneta has said about me?’
‘Not the details yet, but that you are responsible for making the children ill, and also some bruises Kit has on his legs.’
‘Those bruises were from falling over while playing,’ I said, annoyed. ‘I noted when and where they happened in my log. All children fall over while playing.’
‘I’ll need to look at your log when I come to see you. It needs to be soon. When are you free?’
‘Any time after Tess has removed the children,’ I said bitterly.
‘I can’t make tomorrow or Wednesday,’ Edith said, presumably checking her diary. ‘Thursday is looking full too. Let’s make it Friday, eleven o’clock.’
‘OK.’
‘Either Tess or I will phone you tomorrow when she knows what time she is coming to collect the children. See you Friday.’
‘Yes,’ I said, and replaced the handset. Supervising social workers were supposed to offer support, I thought grimly.
Downstairs, I made a note of Edith’s visit in my diary, not that I was likely to forget it. I had the children for another night, but that was bittersweet. In some ways it would have been less painful if they’d been taken today, as it seemed to prolong the agony. I’d have to start preparing them for leaving while not saying too much until tomorrow, otherwise they’d have all night to worry and fret. I returned to the packing, then at 4.30 I stopped, put the cases out of sight, and drove to the Family Centre.
Having signed in, I made my way along the corridor. As I approached the room, I heard Molly call out, ‘Gee up, horsey!’ So I thought their father was playing the same game he had on Friday. They’d loved that game and Molly had talked about it over the weekend.
However, when I opened the door, I saw it wasn’t Filip on all fours pretending to be a horse but Aneta, with just Molly on her back. Filip was standing a short distance away, holding Kit. I could see straight away that the game wasn’t working. Aneta was of a smaller build than Filip and could only manage a few faltering steps with the weight of Molly on her back. She was wearing a skirt that got caught in her knees as she tried to move forwards. To be honest, she looked ridiculous.
‘Gee up!’ Molly cried, and rocked backwards and forwards, trying to make her mother move.
I glanced at Filip and he nodded to me. Kit smiled.
‘Faster! Like Daddy did!’ Molly cried, and rocked harder.
‘Ouch! That hurt!’ Aneta suddenly shouted, any humour gone. Abruptly she stood, jettisoning Molly from her back so she landed heavily on the floor. Molly cried out and ran to her father. Aneta rubbed her back and glared at her daughter. I saw the contact supervisor making notes and I wondered what she was writing.
I waited in my usual spot
by the door as Filip comforted Molly, and then told the children to say goodbye to their mother. As he brought them to me his face was expressionless. There was nothing to be read there. He kissed them, said goodbye to me and then added, ‘I’m meeting the social worker tomorrow.’
I nodded, said goodbye and left. I had no idea why he’d told me he was seeing Tess the following day, and I assumed this was the last time I would see him or Aneta, as the children were moving tomorrow.
Molly and Kit were exceptionally quiet as we left the building and also in the car. ‘Did you have a nice time?’ I asked them as I drove us home.
‘Yes,’ Molly said without much enthusiasm.
‘Yes,’ Kit repeated.
‘Mummy was angry,’ Molly said after a moment.
I glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. ‘Because of the horsey game?’ I asked, assuming this was the reason. ‘She’ll be fine. She wasn’t badly hurt.’
‘No. Before you came. She was angry with Daddy,’ Molly said.
‘Why?’
‘Don’t know.’
I didn’t pursue it. I had more important things on my mind, and I prepared myself to talk to them about them leaving. ‘Sometimes when children are in foster care like you and Kit are, they have to change carers,’ I began, concentrating on the road ahead. ‘That means that their social worker comes to the house and moves them and all their belongings to a new home.’
‘Why?’ Molly asked.
