‘Danny,’ said Miss Parsons, ‘your grandmother would like you to go and stay with her.’
‘Live with me,’ said the woman sharply.
The boy’s head jerked in the direction of Dr Stirling. He looked at the doctor in slow bewilderment, seemingly unable to understand exactly what she was saying.
‘Live wi’ ’er?’ he repeated. He looked dazed, as if he had just woken out of a sleep.
‘That’s right, Danny,’ the doctor replied. ‘Your grandmother would like you to go and live with her.’
Danny sat up straight in his chair and pushed the hair out of his eyes. ‘I don’t want to,’ he said determinedly. He looked Dr Stirling in the eye. ‘You telled me I wouldn’t ’ave’ to move. You telled me.’ He sounded desperate. ‘You said I could stay wi’ you.’
‘I know what I said, Danny,’ replied the doctor, ‘and I thought—’
‘Well, Daniel,’ his grandmother interrupted, ‘what children want isn’t always what they get, and—’
‘Mrs Stainthorpe,’ cut in Miss Parsons, ‘if we could just take this slowly. It is very difficult for Danny to take this in. This has come as a shock to him.’ She turned to the boy and smiled. ‘Now, your grandmother would like you to go and see her and stay with her in Clayton just for a while to get to know her.’
‘Well, I don’t want to,’ said the boy. ‘I’m ’appy weer I am.’ He looked at the social worker. ‘You telled me when Dr Stirling wanted to foster me that ya wanted to mek sure that I’d be ’appy an’ like it weer I was to stay. You said that. You telled me.’ His eyes began to fill up. ‘Why do people say things they don’t mean? I won’t be ’appy if I leave.’
His grandmother made a clucking noise with her tongue. ‘Just like Les. Stubborn,’ she remarked under her breath.
‘Mrs Stainthorpe, please,’ said Miss Parsons. She looked at Danny. ‘Of course we want to make sure that you are happy. I think if you were to give it a try you might like it. Your grandmother has a nice apartment in Clayton overlooking the river—’
‘And the cathedral,’ added the woman.
‘There’s a cinema,’ continued the social worker, ‘a bowling alley, ice rink and swimming pool nearby and there are lots of things for a young man like you to do. You would have your own room and—’
‘Why don’t grown-ups ever listen to what kids say?’ Danny interrupted, rubbing his eyes. ‘I don’t want all that! I want to stay ’ere in t’country with Dr Stirling an’ James an’ stop at t’village school.’ He looked appealingly at Dr Stirling. ‘Please.’
‘You would be able to come back and visit, Danny,’ said the doctor feebly.
‘You as well,’ said Danny in a small voice. ‘Ya want me to go?’
‘Of course I don’t want you to go,’ said the doctor vehemently. ‘I want you to stay. I want to adopt you.’ The sadness and perplexity on the boy’s face matched his own.
‘Then why ’ave I got to go?’ He gripped the arms of the chair. He looked at the social worker. ‘Why can’t I stay weer I am?’
‘Look, Danny,’ said Miss Parsons, ‘it’s not as simple as that. This is your grandmother and—’
‘Can I be allowed to say something—’ began Mrs Stainthorpe in a combative tone of voice.
‘Not at the moment,’ said Miss Parsons sharply, keeping her eyes on Danny. ‘I think it would be a really good idea if you were to go—’
‘No!’ exclaimed the boy.
‘—If you were go and spend a little time with your grandmother and get to know her and see where she lives. You can remain with Dr Stirling at present and we can see how things go.’
‘No!’ interrupted the boy again, his voice wobbling.
‘Just for a few days, to go on outings with your grandmother and spend a couple of weekends with her and see how you get on,’ continued Miss Parsons. ‘You might really like living in Clayton, and if you were to go and live there eventually you would still be able to come back and see your friend.’
‘Well, I don’t want to,’ sniffed Danny. ‘Ya can’t mek me.’ Then he looked at the doctor again. ‘Can they?’
‘I think you should give it a try, Danny,’ he said. ‘I want you to stay. I’d give anything for you to stay, you know that, and so would James, but I agree with what Miss Parsons says.’
‘Yer goin’ to let ’em tek me away?’ he asked quietly. He wiped a glistening tear from his cheek with the back of his hand.
‘You’re not going to prison,’ his grandmother told him bluntly.
‘You will stay with us for the time being and visit your grandmother,’ said the doctor, ‘and get to know her, and we will see how things go.’ He knew what he was saying was unconvincing.
Danny began to cry. They were quick choking sobs.
‘Come along, you’re a big boy, Daniel,’ said his grandmother. ‘I think we can well do without the waterworks.’
‘The boy is upset!’ exclaimed Dr Stirling angrily. ‘It’s come as a shock to him. He’s just got settled and now he has this upheaval.’
‘Excuse me, doctor,’ retorted Mrs Stainthorpe. ‘You’re not talking to one of your patients now. I really can’t see this upheaval what you’re on about. Daniel’s coming to live with his grandmother, which is only right and proper, in a nice new apartment with his own room and everything. Most children would be happy as sandboys with that.’
‘I would remind you, Mrs Stainthorpe,’ replied the doctor, getting heated, ‘that—’
‘Let’s stay calm about this,’ said Miss Parsons quickly, realising that the meeting could well deteriorate into a squabbling match. ‘We are all concerned with Danny’s welfare. Perhaps you might take Danny for a drink, Mrs Talbot.’
When the boy had gone and the door was closed, the social worker clasped her hands together and looked down at the desk. ‘It really doesn’t help getting worked up about this in front of the boy. Dr Stirling has been good enough to look after him and the boy has been happy. He was to be adopted.’
‘Yes, I know all that,’ said Mrs Stainthorpe dismissively. ‘Now, we can talk about this until the cows come home but it doesn’t change those facts. I want Daniel living with me and live with me he will.’
The social worker looked at Dr Stirling. ‘What I suggest is that we arrange a few visits. For the moment we will have to put the adoption on hold.’
‘There’ll be no adoption,’ added Mrs Stainthorpe, narrowing her eyes and pursing her mouth.
‘Very well,’ said Dr Stirling, rising from his chair. ‘I can see that anything else I have to say is of no consequence. I will bring Danny over to you next weekend.’
‘No, I’ll collect him,’ she replied. ‘I can get a bus from Clayton.’ Then she added pointedly, ‘I wouldn’t want to put you out.’
‘Until Saturday, then,’ said Dr Stirling coldly.
‘I could do with a cigarette,’ sighed the woman. ‘I’m gagging.’ She dug in her handbag and produced a gold powder compact, flicked it open, peered into the small mirror and dabbed her nose. ‘I’ll see you next weekend,’ she told Dr Stirling, as if dismissing him from her presence.
Despite the doctor’s efforts to get Danny to talk, the boy was silent all the way back home and stared sadly out of the car window.
‘Where is he, Dr Stirling?’ asked Mrs O’Connor. It was later that day.
‘Danny’s gone up to his room,’ the doctor told her. ‘He said he wanted to be by himself. He wants to think things over.’
‘It’s a crying shame,’ said the housekeeper. ‘That’s what it is, a crying shame. His grandmother has had nothing to do with the lad all these years, never sent him so much as a present on his birthday or a card, and then she comes swanning back into his life like some distant relative at the reading of the will, just as he gets settled, and wants to whisk him away. It shouldn’t be allowed to happen.’
The doctor sighed. ‘Yes, it has upset Danny greatly, but I guess your old Irish grandmother would remark that blood is thicker than water
.’
‘My grandmother, bless her sainted soul, would have said that if the wheel’s not broken it doesn’t need mending. Danny’s happy where he is and he should be allowed to stay here.’
‘Yes, Mrs O’Connor,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘he should.’
The doctor stared out of the window. The garden, with its dead flowers and skeletal trees, looked dark and brooding and reflected his mood.
He had tried to talk to Danny when they had arrived home after their visit to the Social Services, but to no avail. The boy’s heart was so full he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He had listened, head down, as the doctor tried to reassure him that he could be happy in his new home.
‘I’m so sorry, Danny, that things have turned out like this,’ said Dr Stirling. He struggled to think of the words to say. ‘It’s been such a pleasure, more than that, having you stay here, and you know James and I really wanted you to become part of our family. I just wish I could change things but I can’t.’
Danny nodded but kept his head lowered.
‘You know that you will always be welcome here,’ said Dr Stirling, ‘to come and visit whenever you want. You know that, Danny, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ he said almost inaudibly.
They sat there in silence, both feeling wretched.
‘Can I go to mi room please?’ Danny asked finally.
‘Of course you can,’ replied the doctor, ‘and we will keep it as your room for when you come to visit.’
‘I don’t think I’ll be allowed,’ the boy said in a small voice as he got to his feet.
‘I mean,’ said the housekeeper that afternoon, ‘does Danny not have a say in all this? Do his wishes count for nothing?’
‘He’s still a minor, Mrs O’Connor,’ the doctor told her. ‘The social worker listened to what he had to say and I could see she sympathised with him, but she has to do what the law demands, and his grandmother, were she to take the matter to court, would undoubtedly win. If I challenged the decision and lost, that would be another terrible disappointment for the boy. He would have his hopes dashed a second time. I was advised not to pursue the matter. The law’s the law.’
‘Well, as my grandmother would say, “If that’s the law then the law is an ass”.’
The doctor smiled. ‘I think that was Charles Dickens actually,’ he told her, raising a small smile.
‘Well, this Dickens must have got it off her,’ said the housekeeper.
‘The social worker has a job to do. It’s difficult and challenging and I guess sometimes heartbreaking, but they have to do what they think is right and what the law demands.’
‘And they think this is right, uprooting the lad? I thought social workers had to have the child’s best interests at heart. Doesn’t sound like that to me.’
‘To be fair, Mrs O’Connor, I think Miss Parsons was on my side. I am sure she would have preferred Danny staying where he is. Her hands are tied. It was suggested that for a trial period Danny should go and stay with his grandmother for a few weekends. Miss Parsons will see how he is getting on and make some visits. You never know, Danny may like it in Clayton and when he’s got to know his grandmother he could be happy there.’
‘He’ll feel about as much at home with that woman as the Pope would in a lap-dancing club,’ observed the housekeeper. ‘Does it sound as if Danny will like it there, stuck in a flat?’ she asked bluntly. ‘I know Maisie Proctor of old, Dr Stirling, and she’s only bothered about one person – herself. She led poor Les Stainthorpe a merry old dance, so she did. Made eyes at him, courted him, married him, robbed him and then ran off with another man. It’s the oldest game in the book, is that. She was a nasty piece of work when she served behind the bar in the Blacksmith’s Arms, making eyes at all the men customers until she was sacked for putting her hand in the till. There’s nothing you can tell me about Maisie Proctor.’
‘She might have changed,’ said the doctor.
‘Can a crab be taught to walk straight?’ said Mrs O’Connor.
Dr Stirling knew that the housekeeper was probably right.
‘And I’ll tell you something else,’ said Mrs O’Connor, her face red with anger, ‘she’s only in it for the money, so she is. Wants to get her greedy hands on the family allowance and any other benefits she can squeeze out of the system.’
‘I really don’t think that is the case,’ replied Dr Stirling. ‘I’d like to think that now she is by herself—’
‘By herself?’
‘Yes, the man she was living with has died.’
‘The brush salesman from Rotherham, the one she ran off with to marry?’
‘She never remarried,’ the doctor told her.
‘Typical.’
‘I guess now she is on her own she would like her grandson with her,’ said the doctor.
‘Well, as I’ve said, I think it’s a crying shame, so I do,’ said Mrs O’Connor. She turned, headed for the door and shaking her head, said as a parting shot, ‘And you mark my words Dr Stirling, it will end in tears.’
‘May I come in?’ Dr Stirling stood in the porch at Wisteria Cottage that evening.
‘Of course,’ said Elisabeth. ‘Come through.’
‘You’ve got the place looking lovely,’ he said, walking into the snug sitting-room with its heavy burgundy drapes, old oak dresser and cream-coloured sofa and chairs. A fire of logs blazed and crackled in the hearth. ‘It’s so warm and cosy in here.’
Elisabeth slipped her arm through his and reached up to kiss him on the cheek. ‘You look just about done in,’ she said. ‘Sit down and I’ll get you a drink. Something a bit stronger than tea, I think.’
‘It’s my turn now to burden you with my problems,’ he told her, flopping on to the sofa and sighing.
Elisabeth poured a whisky from the decanter on the dresser and placed the glass in his hand, then sat down beside him. She brushed another kiss against his cheek and interlaced her fingers through his. ‘So, what is the problem?’ she asked.
‘Danny,’ he told her. He took a sip from the glass.
‘Danny?’ she repeated. ‘I thought you went with him to the Social Services today to sort out the adoption?’
‘That’s what I thought,’ he replied, ‘but I am afraid it wasn’t to be.’
‘Why, what happened?’
‘Danny’s grandmother was there.’
‘His grandmother? She hasn’t seen him since he was a baby.’
‘Well, she’s turned up like the wicked witch at the christening.’
‘I gather from that that you were not impressed with her?’
‘No, I wasn’t.’
‘What’s she like?’ asked Elisabeth.
‘Loud, belligerent, bad-tempered. I found her a most unpleasant woman and I could see Danny didn’t take to her either. She wants him to go and live with her.’
‘Surely she can’t just appear out of the blue and whisk him away, can she?’
‘I really don’t know,’ said Dr Stirling, ‘but she’s a determined woman and looks as if she’s spoiling for a fight over custody.’
‘What did they say at the Social Services?’
He breathed out noisily. ‘Just that Danny ought to get to know her. I guess they’ll decide what they think should happen, in due course.’
‘Does that mean you won’t be adopting Danny?’ asked Elisabeth.
‘It’s been put on hold until things are sorted out,’ he told her. He finished the whisky.
‘Poor Michael,’ she said, squeezing his hand.
‘Poor Danny,’ he said quietly.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Following the meeting with the social worker and Danny’s grandmother, I made a few enquiries and spoke to a solicitor friend of mine. Stephen Smith works in the family court and is one of the best lawyers around. It seems that a court of law might very well grant his grandmother custody, if it was taken that far. She can provide a good stable home for the boy and, of course, she is his closest rel
ative. I just feel so low and helpless.’
‘And how is Danny taking all this?’ asked Elisabeth.
‘He’s devastated, poor lad,’ replied the doctor. ‘He’s gone quiet, just like he did when his grandfather died. He went up to his room and wouldn’t come down for his tea. James couldn’t get a word out of him either and he rarely spoke to Mrs O’Connor. I think he feels I have let him down.’
‘No, Michael, he can’t think that,’ she said. ‘You were so good to take him in.’ She snuggled up to him and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘You’re the most caring person I know. Danny doesn’t think you let him down.’
‘I’m afraid he does,’ said Dr Stirling. ‘You see, I promised the boy only this morning that he had nothing to worry about and that he would be staying with us at Clumber Lodge. I could see he was troubled about something. I just thought it was nerves but now I know why he was worried. I think he sensed things might not work out. He’d met his grandmother in the graveyard. I didn’t know anything about this, he never told me. I think Danny had an idea she might cause trouble for him. You should have seen the look in his eyes, wide and frightened like a caged animal. As I said, the boy is devastated and I am afraid there is nothing I can do.’
Elisabeth stroked his hair and touched the curl at the back of his neck.
‘A few more grey hairs in there,’ he said, raising a smile.
‘It makes you look very distinguished,’ she replied.
There was a comfortable quiet between them. They sat holding hands, staring at the fire and thinking.
‘James will be upset too,’ said Elisabeth finally.
‘Yes, he is. He just doesn’t know what to say or do.’
‘You never know,’ she said reassuringly. ‘Danny might be able to stay with you, and if he does go to live with his grandmother he might settle.’
‘You haven’t met her.’
‘I do hope that things work out for Danny,’ said Elisabeth. ‘I promised his grandfather that I would look out for him. I guess he may feel that if anyone has let him down it’s me.’
Trouble at the Little Village School Page 19
