Terrified

by Angela Hart

  ‘I’m very sorry to hear this, Vicky, I really am.’

  ‘It’s not your fault. As for the gentleman caller thing, well . . . those men she had over were such creeps. One time do you know what she said to me?’

  ‘No. Go on.’

  ‘I was wearing a short skirt and when I crossed my legs she said I was flashing my knickers on purpose. She said I was trying to show off to her gentlemen friend! Angela, I was about seven. I didn’t know what she was talking about. The man was frightening. He laughed his head off and his breath stank, and he only had about three teeth in his head, all of them black and yellow.’

  ‘Oh, Vicky, love. Come here. Can I give you a hug?’

  She nodded and I gave her a cuddle.

  ‘I’m so sorry I used that phrase. It was very careless of me. I hate to see you frightened.’

  She gave her body a little shake, which I took as my cue to move away from her.

  ‘I’ll be all right. Far worse things have happened to people. Scot will be here in a minute, I’d better sort myself out.’

  Vicky helped herself to a handful of tissues and I told her she was very brave, and that if she wanted to finish telling me about her hair, or anything else for that matter, she could, any time she wanted.

  ‘Thanks, Angela,’ she said, wiping her nose. ‘Please say sorry to your mum and Jonathan.’

  ‘No need,’ I said. ‘They both understand.’

  ‘I’m lucky to have you,’ Vicky said. ‘I’ll miss you when I’m gone.’

  18

  ‘I used to live in a scary house’

  In the last week of the term before the Easter holiday, Jonathan, Vicky and I attended another review meeting with Hayley and Stuart Williams. We’d been told that a school place had become available for Vicky within the catchment area of Vincent’s home, and now plans were being made for her to move in with her father after our trip to Florida. It felt like things had happened incredibly fast, but Vicky didn’t seem fazed by the changes in her life.

  ‘This is a bit different to last time!’ she had said cheerfully when we pulled into the scruffy out-of-town Social Services car park once more. The litter and graffiti hadn’t changed, but Vicky was like a different girl.

  ‘Isn’t it just!’ I smiled, thinking back to that awful day when Vicky’s mother failed to turn up.

  Vicky had been on quite a high ever since we received the news that she could move to her dad’s, and it seemed she couldn’t wait for the next part of her life to begin. With our holiday also imminent, she was positively buzzing.

  Once again Vicky, Jonathan and I sat in the stuffy waiting room, just as we had done several months earlier. The water cooler was still out of order and the same tatty collection of magazines was on the table, but the atmosphere was completely different.

  ‘Do you know, in my wildest dreams I could never have imagined all this would be happening to me!’ Vicky said. ‘Last time we were here, I just wanted to die.’

  ‘Don’t say that, sweetheart,’ I said, as the thought of Vicky ever feeling so low was upsetting. ‘I can’t bear to think of you being miserable.’

  ‘Sorry, Angela. But I’m not miserable now, am I? It’s all worked out.’

  Once the review began Vicky beamed as she confirmed to Hayley and Stuart Williams that she was happy to move schools and live with her father and his family.

  ‘Is there anything at all that is worrying you?’ Hayley asked.

  ‘No,’ Vicky replied. ‘I can’t wait.’

  ‘Anybody else want to add anything. Angela?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so, other than to say that Jonathan and I have thoroughly enjoyed having Vicky staying with us.’

  ‘Aww!’ Vicky remarked. ‘That’s so kind of you!’

  ‘Well it’s true, Vicky,’ I said. ‘You’re a lovely young lady.’

  I was still worried about how things would turn out for her, but of course it would have been wrong for me to voice such thoughts, and in any case my opinion wouldn’t change a thing. The move would be a monumental change for Vicky, and I hoped that the bond between father and daughter would be enough to compensate for the compromises they would all inevitably have to make.

  I had spoken to Lorraine several times as the plans took shape, and I knew she was going through similar mixed feelings.

  ‘I’m happy for Vicky but worried too,’ she put it simply, when I asked her how she was. ‘I think she’s very brave. I’m not sure I would do it, if I were in her shoes.’

  ‘I agree. She’s gutsy. At least that’s a characteristic that will stand her in good stead if things don’t turn out as well as we all hope.’

  Thankfully, Jonathan and I had the holiday to organise, which kept our minds off things. We were hiring a relief manager to look after the shop while we were away and she needed to be shown the ropes, plus we had all the packing and lots of planning to do for the trip. It was many years since Jonathan and I had been to Florida, and we spent several evenings poring over the brochures for Disney World. We’d visited the Magic Kingdom and Epcot theme parks last time and we definitely wanted to return to those with Vicky, but we also wanted to see Dolphin Cove, Sea World plus the Universal and MGM Studios, as they were then called. There was also the tropical aviary I’d researched, which was a bus trip away from our hotel, and was a must-do.

  ‘Is there anything else you particularly want to do or see?’ I asked Vicky one night.

  ‘Not really, just the birds,’ she replied with a shrug.

  ‘Can I go over to Scot’s house? Izzy and a few others are going too.’

  ‘Yes, you can, love, as long as you are home by 9.30 p.m.’

  ‘OK. By the way, how long are we away for exactly?’

  ‘The holiday is fourteen nights, Vicky. We get back four days before you move to your dad’s.’

  ‘Oh. That’s a long time. I wish it was just a week.’

  I didn’t rise to this. It was a typical teenage remark and I didn’t let it bother me. Vicky was clearly very keen on Scot and they’d been spending a lot of time together. I knew Vicky wanted to come on holiday and was grateful for the opportunity, but of course she wanted to see Scot and her friends too, before she moved away.

  ‘Well, it’s all booked now, and there’s no point in going for less than a fortnight. There is so much to do.’

  Vicky tut-tutted and walked out.

  ‘OK. See you later.’

  I raised my eyes to the ceiling.

  ‘Kids!’ I said.

  ‘Unbelievable!’ Jonathan responded. ‘She has no idea what a treat she’s in for.’

  ‘I know,’ I laughed, feeling a surge of excitement. ‘I can’t wait to see her reaction to the rides and attractions. It’ll be absolutely brilliant. Florida here we come!’

  Vicky had never been abroad or even stayed in a hotel before, so everything was an adventure, right from the moment we left England. She was thrilled by things I didn’t anticipate, like the tray of food she was handed on the flight to America, and the air conditioning and fluffy white bathrobes we had in our hotel room at Disney World.

  ‘It’s like being in a film,’ she said more than once.

  It was blazing hot in Florida and we did a lot of walking and queuing every day, but Vicky never complained, not once. She got soaked to the skin at Sea World when we rather mischievously encouraged her to sit on the front row to watch the killer whale in action.

  ‘You knew that would happen, didn’t you?’ she laughed accusingly as I took photos from several rows behind. ‘I’ll get you for this!’

  Jonathan and I had seen a very similar display on our previous visit and loved it. We only returned so that Vicky could enjoy the experience too, but we were taken aback by our own reactions. It was an absolute joy to watch her having so much fun, and our eyes were on Vicky as much as on the show. Space Mountain was another attraction we revisited.

  ‘I think it’s one of the best rides here,’ I said to Vicky. ‘I think you’ll really lik
e it.’

  ‘What happens?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that. It’ll spoil the fun. Come on!’

  Vicky screamed her head off but absolutely loved it, so much so that she was prepared to wait another hour to have a second turn. The haunted house was the only attraction that didn’t go down well. Vicky was really scared, particularly when we were confronted with a spooky room where a candle-lit seance was supposedly taking place.

  ‘Argh! Fire!’ she screamed in terror, covering her face with her hands.

  Vicky came off the ride looking as white as a sheet.

  ‘Oh my God, what were we thinking of?’ Jonathan whispered.

  ‘Do you think she’ll be all right?’

  Vicky looked scared stiff, and we had to gently guide her to a bench and sit with her for about twenty minutes until she came round and fully composed herself.

  ‘Sorry, love,’ I soothed. ‘I didn’t think you’d be that frightened or I would never had taken you on there.’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ she said quietly. ‘Haunted houses just aren’t my thing.’

  Her expression softened and she eventually gave me a smile and attempted a joke.

  ‘I think it’s because it was too real,’ she said, giving a little shudder. ‘I used to live in a scary house, remember!’

  ‘Yes, love, but it wasn’t full of ghosts and skeletons, was it?’ I replied, desperately trying to come up with a lighthearted reply but not doing very well.

  ‘Nah! It was worse than that!’

  Jonathan and I shared a forlorn look and declared that it was high time for an ice cream. Thankfully, I think our trip to the tropical aviary more than made up for this low point. Vicky was in raptures as we explored the hot, jungle-like walkways, spotting all kinds of brightly coloured birds and listening to their funny squawks and beautiful songs.

  ‘Hello!’ Vicky said, whenever she got close to a bird. ‘Aren’t you pretty?’

  She then stayed very still, as if patiently waiting for a response, but of course most of the birds just shook their tail feathers or flew away without giving her a second look.

  ‘They’re lovely, but they’re not as friendly as Mr Robin,’ Vicky concluded.

  The holiday was a wonderful success, and the three of us returned home looking sun-kissed and brimming with tales. My mother listened enthusiastically as we described our adventures and showed her the scores of photos we had printed at Boots.

  ‘What was the highlight?’ Mum asked.

  ‘The aviary!’ Vicky said, without hesitation. ‘And I liked the bathrobes in the hotel. It was like being in Dallas.’

  My mum laughed. ‘I didn’t expect that reply!’ she said. ‘You’re easily pleased, Vicky. Was there anything you didn’t like?’

  I imagined the haunted house would have flashed into Vicky’s mind, but she gave an answer I didn’t anticipate at all.

  ‘I missed home,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure I like being so far away. It’s weird.’

  This remark gave me mixed feelings. I was pleased Vicky was happy in the home life we’d created for her, and indeed that she even called our house home, but of course I couldn’t help worrying once more about how she would cope when she moved away. If two weeks in Florida with us had made her feel homesick, how would she manage starting a new life hundreds of miles away?

  I found it heartbreaking when we had to start packing up Vicky’s things in the days after our return home, but I tried to hide my feelings, as I didn’t want to upset her. Fortunately, Vicky didn’t seem in the least bit perturbed, but I wondered if this was immaturity.

  ‘It’s like packing for another holiday when I’ve just got home from one!’ she said as she piled her belongings into two large suitcases and a couple of holdalls I’d given her. ‘I’m going to put this one on the wall in my room at my dad’s,’ she added, placing one of our holiday snaps inside a book to keep it flat.

  The photo showed Vicky, Jonathan and myself at Sea World, all posing for the camera and laughing. It was taken shortly after Vicky got soaked by the whale and she was huddled between us, doing her best to get us both as wet as she possibly could.

  ‘That’s great,’ I said. ‘Let me see if I can find you a little frame for it.’

  I stepped out of Vicky’s bedroom and stifled a sob. I was finding this very difficult, but I knew I had to be strong, for Vicky’s sake.

  My mother came over that evening, bringing a cake that she’d decorated with the words ‘Good Luck, Vicky’ which also moved me, and the next day I took Vicky over to Lorraine’s so the sisters could say their goodbyes.

  Lorraine insisted that I went inside the flat, even though I was adamant that I didn’t want to intrude.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Lorraine said. ‘You’re like family now, Angela!’

  Again I found myself experiencing mixed emotions. It was a lovely thing for Lorraine to say and I knew she meant it, but the sentiment just made it even harder for me to deal with Vicky’s departure. I did feel very much a part of Vicky’s family, but as a foster carer I had no idea if I would remain so as time went on. Vicky was young and adaptable, and I had to face the fact that she might very well lose touch with me and Jonathan as she established a new life with her dad.

  Vicky sat in Lorraine’s lounge with her little nephew on her lap, and she did ‘Round and Round the Garden’ on the palm of his chubby little hand. James was eight months old now, and when Vicky got to the bit in the rhyme where she tickled him under the arms he giggled raucously. Lorraine started crying.

  ‘Sorry!’ she said, scuttling to the kitchen and dabbing her eyes with a piece of kitchen towel. ‘Oh my God, he’s going to miss his Auntie Vicky!’

  ‘I’ll be back!’ Vicky beamed. ‘Don’t you worry, little man!’

  The journey to Vincent’s the next day was inevitably tough. Lorraine didn’t come with us this time. Jonathan drove and we went through a bit of a charade, trying to treat it like any other car trip, though of course it wasn’t.

  We were both putting on a brave face and, if Vicky was feeling in any way upset or anxious, she did a great job of covering it up. She was bubbly and chatty the whole way, talking about getting a new school uniform and wondering what her bedroom would look like now, as Carol had promised she would have it redecorated before Vicky moved in.

  ‘We’re here!’ she shouted triumphantly when Jonathan drove onto the estate, and then Vicky jumped out of the car the moment it stopped, skipping up to the bungalow and pressing the bell enthusiastically.

  When the front door opened Vincent was in the hallway in his wheelchair, looking very pleased and really quite emotional, and he welcomed Vicky with open arms. There was no sign of Matty, but Carol was there, and she told Vicky she was delighted the day had arrived at last.

  ‘Me too!’ Vicky said. ‘I can’t believe it really. It’s like a dream!’

  We didn’t stop, and even when we said goodbye Vicky didn’t show a flicker of concern or sadness.

  ‘I’ll see you soon,’ she said brightly. ‘Thanks for driving, Jonathan!’

  She gave him a salute then hugged us both, and thanked us for all we’d done for her.

  ‘You’re more than welcome,’ Jonathan told her.

  ‘Bye, love,’ I managed. ‘Now keep in touch, do you hear? Let me know how you’re keeping.’

  ‘Course!’ she said. ‘See ya! Wouldn’t want to be ya!’

  I smiled fondly. This was typical of Vicky, switching to cheeky mode as her default position. I knew she would have her worries underneath this confident facade, but I only hoped that they would dissipate quickly as she settled in and got to know her newfound family.

  Vincent and Carol reassured us that Vicky would be allowed to use the phone whenever she wanted to give us a call, and they invited us to ring any time. It was all quite surreal. When I spoke to one of my friends about it some time later, she said it sounded like the first time she dropped her daughter off at university.

  ‘I was holdi
ng back the tears but she was ecstatic!’ my friend said. ‘I didn’t want to cry in front of her, but once I’d driven off and turned the corner it was like the floodgates opened!’

  There certainly was a similarity, as I cried my eyes out as soon as we’d pulled off the estate. However, there was an added dimension to our situation, one that my friend and I were acutely aware of but neither of us wanted to articulate. The fact was, this was not like dropping your own child off at university. For a start, Vicky was only fourteen, but more importantly, she would not be coming home with a bag of dirty laundry at the end of term. No, it wasn’t the same at all, because the harsh reality was that there was a possibility I might never see Vicky again, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about that. All I could do was hope and pray that she was happy in her new home, and that even if we didn’t see her again, she would keep in touch.

  19

  ‘Everything is different’

  It was incredibly quiet in the house without Vicky, and I missed her a great deal. She phoned on the first Sunday afternoon after she’d left and told me all about her new school.

  ‘I’ve got a trial for the netball team next week,’ she said. ‘And I really like my home economics teacher. They’re doing the same syllabus so I’m well happy!’

  ‘That’s good, love. And how are you getting on with everybody at home?’

  ‘Good, thanks. My dad’s got lots of stories to tell. Do you know, he used to work on a fish farm, before he joined the Army, and he’s a really good cook?’

  ‘That’s great to hear!’

  ‘Yes, he and his workmates used to take so much fish home that he learned how to cook it in every possible way! He’s already taught me how to make kedgeree. My cookery teacher was well impressed when I put that on a breakfast menu I was working on.’

  ‘That sounds great. I’m so pleased things are working out.’

  ‘So am I! I miss everyone back home, but I’ll be able to visit in the summer, won’t I?’

  ‘Of course, love. I’m looking forward to it already. Now don’t forget, ring me any time you like if you want a chat. Look after yourself.’