by Cathy Glass
‘Yes. Fantastic. Love you.’
‘Love you too.’
On Sunday, Adrian and Paula went out with their father for lunch and then later we all took down the Christmas decorations and stored them in the loft for another year. How quickly the years passed, I thought. It felt as though we’d just put the decorations away when it was time to get them out again. When I took Molly and Kit to contact on Monday I asked Filip if he’d had a nice weekend – it seemed polite to do so. He told me in front of the children that Aneta had come home but had been upset because she wasn’t allowed to see the children and he was speaking to his solicitor. I realized Filip probably needed to share what was going on, but it really wasn’t appropriate when the children could hear.
‘Did you see Mummy?’ Molly asked anxiously, tugging on her father’s arm.
‘Yes.’
‘Best not discuss it here,’ I said quietly to him.
He nodded. ‘Mummy is fine and sends her love,’ he told Molly. ‘She’s made a card for you and your brother.’
He went over to where his bag lay on a chair and took out an envelope. This was their time, so I said goodbye and left. Later, when I collected the children, Molly came away with the card and was eager to show me. It was beautiful. ‘Mummy made this?’ I asked.
Molly nodded.
On the front Aneta had painted a bird in flight, its azure blue and green wings so detailed and vibrant you could almost see it flying. ‘She has talent,’ I said. I looked inside, where she’d written in a delicate cursive script:
Think of me as this bird.
I am flying home to you.
We will all be together again soon.
Love you, Mum xx
It was a beautiful card with very emotional words, but were they realistic? Molly certainly thought so. ‘Mummy is getting better,’ she declared, carefully returning the card to its envelope. ‘Daddy said we will be going home soon.’
I doubted it. But what I really struggled with was how someone who could create such a beautiful card could also intentionally harm her children by making them sick. I reminded myself again that Aneta had a mental illness, and people with mental illness did recover.
Molly kept the card with her all evening and proudly slid it from its envelope to show Paula, Lucy and Adrian as they came home. She sat on the card during dinner and at bedtime she wanted to sleep with it under her pillow. I could see it was getting creased, so I suggested she stood it on the shelf in her bedroom next to the photographs of her parents, which she did. She climbed into bed and chatted happily about nursery. She was looking forward to returning to nursery the following morning and seeing her friends again. Once she’d been there a little longer, I was planning on asking some of her friends to lunch as I had with my children and those I’d fostered.
Kit’s playgroup resumed on Wednesday and later that afternoon I received an email from Tess saying she would be visiting us the following Tuesday at 2 p.m. I was expecting a visit from Edith before long, as I hadn’t heard from her since she’d sent her apology for absence to the review before Christmas.
On Friday, when I took the children to contact, Filip told me, out of earshot of Molly and Kit, that there was a good chance Aneta would be discharged the following week. He said she was coming home for the weekend, he was taking her back on Sunday evening, then on Monday morning they had a meeting with her psychiatrist when it would be decided.
‘You’ll be pleased,’ I said, smiling.
‘So will the children,’ Filip replied.
Although Molly and Kit hadn’t heard this conversation, when I collected them from contact it was clear the matter had been mentioned, for Molly greeted me with the words, ‘Mummy is coming home.’
‘We hope so,’ Filip corrected.
Once outside, Molly told me again, ‘Mummy is coming home.’
‘That is good news,’ I said.
‘Daddy said the doctors have made her better.’
‘Excellent.’
‘When will we see her?’
‘When Tess says,’ I replied.
‘When will that be?’
‘I really don’t know, love. Tess is coming to see us tomorrow, so we can ask her then.’
The following day Molly had nursery in the morning, then after lunch I arranged lots of toys and activities in the living room to keep her and Kit occupied during Tess’s visit. She arrived promptly at 2 p.m. and spent some time talking to the children, admiring their toys and asking them about Christmas. Then as they played she said to me, ‘Aneta is being discharged today.’ I nodded. ‘Their solicitor is applying to court to have the children returned to their care. We have a court date for the end of March. The social services are opposing the application, but we have agreed to Aneta having supervised contact. She will join Filip at the Family Centre on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, three o’clock to five o’clock. We’ve added an extra day.’
‘So Kit won’t be able to go to playgroup,’ I said, thinking aloud.
‘No, but it can’t be helped. Contact takes priority.’ Which I knew. Contact takes priority over most things, including the foster carer’s family arrangements. One year I hadn’t been able to see my mother on Mother’s Day as the child I was looking after had to see theirs.
‘When do the new arrangements begin?’ I asked.
‘Tomorrow. I’ll talk to the children about seeing their mother in a moment.’
Molly glanced over at us but carried on playing.
‘Will Aneta be prosecuted?’ I asked Tess quietly, for I thought this would have a bearing on the child-protection case.
‘No. The police have decided it isn’t in the public interest to prosecute her. She has a diagnosed mental disorder and has been receiving treatment. They’ll be returning your food diary.’
‘OK.’
Tess didn’t say any more about the police’s decision not to prosecute, nor about Filip and Aneta’s application to court to have the children returned, and it wasn’t for me to ask. I should be told what I needed to know.
‘Tess, on another matter,’ I said, ‘Kit’s cot is still in my bedroom. He will be two in February and at that age he is no longer allowed to share the carer’s bedroom.’
‘Oh dear,’ Tess said, recognizing there could be a problem.
‘I was thinking of returning his cot to Molly’s room. If you remember, I had to separate them after Aneta said that Molly had intentionally harmed Kit, but Molly is over that now and I’m not sure it was ever as bad as Aneta portrayed.’
‘I agree. I can’t tell you all the doctor told me, but Aneta has admitted that while Molly was responsible for Kit falling downstairs, it was an accident. And that apart from some rough play when Molly might have pushed him, she never intentionally harmed him.’
‘So why say it? To shift the blame from her?’
‘Aneta maintains she didn’t harm the children – apart from making them sick, of course, which was a result of her condition.’
‘So it’s OK to put Kit’s cot in Molly’s room?’ I confirmed.
‘Yes.’
Molly looked over again. ‘Can I see Mummy?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ Tess said. ‘Tomorrow afternoon.’
Turning to Molly and Kit, Tess then explained in simple, child-appropriate language that their mummy had been unwell, but she was better now, so they would be seeing her again at the Family Centre with their father. Molly didn’t show the happiness she might have done and I appreciated, as Tess would, that she must have been struggling with many conflicting emotions, which she couldn’t put into words. ‘Do you have any questions?’ she asked.
Molly looked bemused.
‘If you think of any, you can ask Cathy,’ Tess said.
‘I do ask Cathy,’ Molly replied seriously. ‘But she says we have to ask you.’
Tess and I
smiled. ‘Yes, when I don’t know the answer to something we ask Tess,’ I explained.
‘Mummy,’ Kit said, picking up on some of the conversation.
‘We are seeing Mummy tomorrow at the Family Centre,’ Molly told him, repeating what Tess had said. ‘Daddy will be there. Why didn’t we see Mummy?’ she now asked Tess.
‘Because she has been ill,’ Tess replied.
‘What was wrong with Mummy?’ Molly asked. I was pleased it was Tess she was asking and not me.
‘Your mummy had an illness that caused her to do things that might have hurt you and Kit,’ Tess said. ‘That’s why you and your brother came to live with Cathy and her family.’ Although of course there was no might about it. Aneta’s FDIA had hurt Molly and Kit, although at her age Molly didn’t need to know that.
‘Is Mummy better now?’ Molly asked Tess.
‘Yes. We think so,’ Tess replied.
‘Good. I love my mummy,’ Molly said, and then looked at me. ‘I love you too, Cathy. You are like my other mummy.’
‘That’s nice,’ I said, and I felt my eyes fill.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Permanent?
I wasn’t looking forward to meeting Aneta again. I was sure it was going to be difficult, but during my fostering career I’d had to face many situations far more difficult than this one, so I told myself I just had to get on with it. As we got ready to leave that Wednesday afternoon Molly went very quiet, but when I asked her if there was something wrong she shook her head. It must have been strange for her to be seeing her mother again after all these weeks. Kit was his usual mischievous self and ran off with his shoes rather than letting me put them on him. I hadn’t moved his cot yet. I needed help to take it from my room, round the landing and into to Molly’s room, so we’d move it at the weekend. There was no rush. Kit wasn’t two until February. Had Tess not agreed to him sharing Molly’s room I would have had to sleep on the sofa bed downstairs, as the rules on looked-after children sharing a bedroom are strict.
In the car I fed the nursery-rhyme CD into the player and headed for the Family Centre. Molly was holding a card I’d helped her and Kit make for their mother. It wasn’t anywhere near as good as the one Aneta had made for them, but they’d done their best with glue, glitter and felt tips, and all parents appreciate their children’s artwork, don’t they? Whatever the standard.
As I parked outside the Family Centre I felt my pulse step up a notch. I wasn’t sure how I was expecting Aneta to be with me, but given her previous animosity I naturally felt some reluctance and anxiety at meeting her again, especially now that what she’d been doing to the children was out in the open.
The receptionist said the children’s parents and social worker were there and waiting in Blue Room. My heart sank. It was the same room the children had seen their mother in before. Wouldn’t it bring back unpleasant memories for them of being sick after contact? Molly made the connection. ‘Blue Room is where we were with Mummy,’ she said quietly as I signed the Visitors’ Book. I half expected her to add something about being sick. She didn’t, but she held my hand very tightly as the three of us went along the corridor to Blue Room.
The door was open and Kit rushed in while Molly stayed by my side, still holding my hand. Aneta, Filip and Tess were standing in a circle in the centre of the room and appeared to have been talking. The contact supervisor was at the table. ‘Hello, son,’ Filip said, picking him up, for he’d run around his mother to get to his father.
‘Hello,’ I said to everyone. Aneta was looking at Molly, who was still standing beside me, holding my hand. ‘Give Mummy your card,’ I encouraged her.
‘You give it to her,’ Molly said, and buried her face in my coat. Tess looked over, slightly surprised, and I knew – as I think Tess did – that we should have prepared Molly better for seeing her mother again. Aneta was looking upset.
‘We’ll give Mummy the card together,’ I told Molly, trying to save the situation.
Molly gingerly raised her head from my coat but still gripped my hand as I took her over to her mother. ‘Molly and Kit made this card for you,’ I said.
Thankfully, Molly passed the card to her mother, but she stayed close beside me. Aneta opened the card, nodded but didn’t say anything. Kit was busy trying to climb onto his father’s shoulders for a ride.
‘I’ll see you later then,’ I said. As unobtrusively as I could, I released Molly’s hand, turned and walked away, hoping that she wouldn’t try to run after me, which would have upset Aneta even more.
As I left I heard Tess say to Molly, ‘Let’s find you something to play with.’
I closed the door behind me, relieved that the first meeting was over. Apart from Aneta being very uncomfortable and upset at Molly’s reaction, she had looked well, with colour in her cheeks. I wondered what she would be thinking, seeing her children again. Now recovering from FDIA, she must realize what she did was wrong, so I assumed she must feel guilty. Had she and Filip discussed it? I guessed so, possibly in therapy. Would they tell the children that their mother was responsible for making them ill? I doubted it, and they were probably young enough not to need to know.
When I returned to the Family Centre I met Tess on her way out. ‘How is it going?’ I asked her. Feedback from contact is always helpful for the foster carer, although we seldom receive it.
‘It’s settled down,’ she said. ‘I’ve just left Aneta reading Molly a story. Aneta is better now, but she was upset at the start of contact, as she felt the children had rejected her and only wanted their father. I took her out of the room for a while to calm her down and we had a chat. She was worried that you might have told Molly she was responsible for them being ill and turned them against her.’
‘Of course I haven’t,’ I said indignantly. ‘Certainly not.’
‘I know. I reassured her that wouldn’t be so. She was worried that the children’s coolness towards her might count against her when the case goes back to court in March. I think she was expecting too much from them at the first contact after the gap. She’s coping better now.’
‘Good.’
‘Filip’s relationship with the children has improved,’ she said. ‘He relates to them far more easily now. He’s come a long way.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘He has.’
‘Has the Guardian been in touch with you?’ Tess now asked.
‘Not recently.’
‘She will be. She telephoned me yesterday. She’ll be seeing the children again before we go back to court.’
‘OK.’
Tess said goodbye and I continued into the Family Centre and to Blue Room. I knocked on the door and went in. Aneta was sitting on the sofa with Molly beside her and reading her a story. Kit was ‘helping’ his father tidy up the toys, although as fast as Filip put them away, Kit took them out again. ‘You’re not much help,’ Filip laughed.
I smiled and waited in my usual place just inside the door. Eventually Aneta looked up from the book. ‘You have to go now,’ she said quietly to Molly.
Without being told a second time or protesting about having to leave, Molly stood and came towards me.
‘Give Mummy a kiss goodbye,’ Filip told her.
Molly dutifully returned to her mother and planted a kiss on her cheek. Aneta hugged her, but Molly didn’t return the hug. She straightened and, taking her coat from her father, she brought it to me to help her put it on. I could see Aneta was hurt. As Tess had said, perhaps she was expecting too much, but it would help the children if they saw their mother and me getting along. It was for me to build the bridges.
Instead of coming away, I took a few steps further into the room and said to Aneta, ‘It was Molly’s idea to make the card. Did you like it?’
She looked up, surprised, and then said, ‘Yes, I did. Thank you.’
‘She loved your card,’ I said. ‘She wouldn’t
be parted from it. It’s on a shelf in her bedroom so she can see it last thing at night and when she wakes in the morning. You’ve got real talent. I couldn’t make anything like that, no matter how hard I tried.’ I could see Filip watching our exchange.
‘Art was my best subject at school,’ Aneta offered. ‘While I was in hospital they encouraged us to draw and paint and make things.’
‘It’s a lovely card,’ I said. ‘And thanks for the one you sent me.’
‘You’re welcome.’ She managed a small smile.
The ice broken, it was time for us to leave. ‘I’d better get these two some dinner then,’ I said to Aneta. ‘We’ll see you on Friday.’
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘Say goodbye then,’ I told the children. ‘You’ll see Mummy and Daddy again soon. Two more sleeps.’
‘Bye,’ Molly said, then she suddenly ran back to her mother and gave her a kiss and a hug. Kit copied her and Aneta hugged them both. Tears sprang to her eyes and the look of gratitude and appreciation on her face was pitiful. Whatever she’d done in the past, and whatever the outcome of the care proceedings, Aneta was their mother and it was important Molly and Kit had a positive image of her.
Tamara Hastings, the Guardian ad litem, telephoned the following morning while Molly was at nursery and wanted to come to see us that afternoon at two o’clock. After lunch I refreshed the toys in the living room and told Molly and Kit that the Guardian would be coming shortly and she would want to talk to us. Molly seemed to remember her from last time and asked if it was about Mummy. Since they’d seen their mother the day before, Molly had been talking more about her, while Kit had been saying ‘Mummy’, fetching his shoes and looking hopefully at the front door whenever she was mentioned. He was also wanting more hugs and to sit on my lap, which was an indication he was feeling unsettled and needed reassurance. It must be very confusing for him to have the woman he loved and called Mummy disappear from his life and then suddenly and briefly reappear. Molly had a better understanding and knew she would be seeing her again the next day. Kit sometimes called me mummy and I always corrected him and said, ‘I’m Cathy.’ But of course it was quite possible there could come a time when he would be calling me or another woman mummy. If the children didn’t go home, which seemed the most likely outcome, at their age they would be placed for adoption and their new parents would become their mummy and daddy. Would I put myself forward to be considered? Yes, they were settled and my family and I loved them.
