by Cathy Glass
That night, unsurprisingly, Oskar had another nightmare. When I went to his room I found him trying to fight someone off and shouting, ‘Don’t hurt me!’ It didn’t take much to guess who. I reassured him he was safe and, once he was in a deep sleep again, I returned to my bedroom. I was sure Oskar would have more nightmares while his subconscious purged itself of the dreadful memories of abuse, until he could finally sleep peacefully.
Chapter Sixteen
Questioned by the Police
Oskar didn’t want to go to school the following morning, which hadn’t happened before, as he liked school. After sitting with him in his bedroom for some time and encouraging him to tell me why, he confessed he was worried that, now he’d told, those two men would come to his school and cut him into little pieces. I told him that was impossible, that the building was security-locked and protected by CCTV; his teacher would make sure he was safe and those men would probably be in police custody by now, so they couldn’t harm him.
‘If I go to school, I don’t want to go in the playground,’ he said. ‘They might get over the fence.’
The fencing was over six feet high, but I said, ‘Would it help if I spoke to Miss Jordan and see what she suggests?’
‘Yes,’ he said in a tiny voice. He had faith in her.
Now partially reassured, Oskar got dressed, had some breakfast, then sat quietly, deep in thought, in the back of the car as I drove to his school. As we walked along the pavement towards the building I could see him looking round, scanning the parked cars for any sign of the black car, as indeed I was, although I didn’t tell him that. Instead, I pointed out the high fencing, security-locked main gate, the CCTV and the playground supervisor, trying to reassure him. However, as he was worried, I didn’t wait in the playground for the start of school but went straight to the main door and pressed the bell. The secretary let us in.
Elaine Summer, the Head, was in reception and greeted us with a warm smile and bright, ‘Good morning. How are you today?’ – mainly directed at Oskar, so I wondered if she was aware of what had happened after I’d taken him home yesterday lunchtime. Oskar was subdued and looking at me to say something about his concerns.
‘Oskar is worried that those two men in the car might come into the school to get him.’
‘Certainly not. I telephoned your social worker yesterday as soon as you told your teacher they were outside. He’s dealing with it,’ Elaine replied.
‘Things have moved on since then,’ I said. ‘Have you spoken to Andrew since then?’
‘No.’ She frowned, puzzled.
We were alone in reception and, as the Head Teacher, she needed to know. ‘When I took Oskar home yesterday, he was brave enough to tell me that the two men in the car had abused him while he’d been living with them and his mother.’ Elaine’s face fell and she instinctively touched Oskar’s shoulder in a gesture of protectiveness.
‘Have they been arrested?’ she asked me quietly.
‘I don’t know yet. I’m waiting to hear from Andrew.’
‘We’ll keep a look-out,’ Elaine said to Oskar, and she smiled at him. Then to me: ‘Even if they’re not in custody yet, they’re unlikely to return here if the police are looking for them.’
I agreed, but Oskar said, ‘Please, Miss, I don’t want to go in the playground.’
‘No. All right. You can stay inside for today. We’ll look after you.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. Oskar looked relieved too.
‘Would you like to come and sit in my office until school starts?’ she asked Oskar. This was clearly a privilege and he nodded enthusiastically.
I thanked the Head again and left Oskar in her capable hands. As I walked away it occurred to me that she had previously seen the two men close up when she’d spoken to them when they’d been waiting outside the school. I assumed, if it was necessary, she could probably give a good description of them to the police.
I was expecting to hear from Andrew, but at 12.15 Miss Jordan telephoned. My first thought was that something bad had happened or that Oskar was very upset and needed to be collected. But thankfully she said, ‘I wanted to let you know Oskar is doing all right.’ I breathed a sigh of relief. ‘He stayed indoors with me during morning play and is now having some lunch. He’s going outside with the other children once he’s finished eating, but the playground supervisor has been informed and will be looking out for him.’
‘Thank you so much,’ I said.
‘You’re welcome. I thought you’d be worrying about him. I know I do.’
She was a treasure.
‘Have they caught those men yet?’ Miss Jordan asked. ‘The Head told me what Oskar said about them. I was so upset and angry.’
‘I haven’t heard any more. I’m hoping his social worker will phone before too long.’
‘Oh dear. Well, don’t worry, we’re looking after Oskar.’
I thanked her again and said I’d be in the playground at the end of school as usual to collect him.
Oskar was due to see his mother that afternoon and I needed to know if contact was going ahead, so when I still hadn’t heard from Andrew at two o’clock I called his office. A colleague answered and I gave my name and said I was Oskar’s foster carer. She told me Andrew was out of the office and she didn’t know when he’d be back. I emphasized that I needed to know if contact was going ahead today, and she said she’d telephone Andrew and ask him to call me. ‘I’ll need to know within the hour,’ I added. ‘I collect Oskar from school and take him straight to the Family Centre.’
Over an hour later, as I parked outside Oskar’s school, my mobile rang and it was Andrew. ‘I got your message,’ he said, clearly in a hurry. ‘Yes, contact will go ahead as normal today.’
‘Thank you. And phone contact tomorrow?’
‘Yes.’
It didn’t seem as though he was going to say any more, so I asked, ‘Have those two men been identified?’
‘They have. Roksana and others living at the same address were able to give their names to the police.’
‘Good. Have they been arrested? Oskar is very concerned they might come after him at school.’
‘No. They didn’t return to the house last night. It seems someone might have alerted them.’ Which wasn’t good news. ‘The police are looking for them. I’ll need to see Oskar as soon as I can. I’ll be in touch.’
‘OK. Thank you.’ And the call ended.
I wouldn’t tell Oskar the men hadn’t been caught; indeed, I wouldn’t mention it at all unless he did. As I walked towards the school I automatically looked up and down the road for any sign of the black car, although realistically they weren’t going to risk returning here now they knew they were wanted by the police. But it didn’t stop me glancing over my shoulder as I waited in the playground.
When Oskar’s class came out he was with Miss Jordan and she came over with him. His face had lost some of its anxiety, so I guessed he’d had a good day and was perhaps enjoying the extra attention. ‘He’s been fine all day,’ Miss Jordan said. ‘I’m very proud of him.’ Oskar smiled. ‘Is there any news?’ she asked me.
I shook my head. I could see Oskar watching me. ‘We’re going to contact now.’
‘Really?’ she asked, surprised, perhaps thinking that contact would have been stopped.
‘Contact is going ahead as usual,’ I confirmed. ‘We’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you so much for looking after Oskar.’
‘I hope it goes well,’ she said, not wholly reassured that seeing his mother was in Oskar’s best interests.
I had reservations too. But it takes a lot to stop contact, as it’s part of the court order set by the judge.
‘I hope my mummy isn’t angry with me,’ Oskar said as we walked to the car.
‘For what?’
‘Telling on those men.’
‘You did the r
ight thing,’ I said, and quietly hoped Roksana thought so too.
‘Roksana is here,’ the receptionist said as Oskar and I entered the Family Centre. ‘She was early. You’re in Red Room today. The contact supervisor has just gone in.’
I thank her, signed the Visitors’ Book, and Oskar held my hand as we went along the corridor.
‘Why’s the room changed?’ he asked.
‘I’m not sure, it does sometimes, but all the rooms are nice.’
The door to Red Room was slightly open, but I knocked anyway before we went in. The same contact supervisor was seated at the table with a notebook and pen ready. Roksana was sitting on the sofa, not checking her phone as she usually was, but staring into space. She looked dreadful, pale and drawn. As soon as she saw us, she stood and, with a small cry, rushed over. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked Oskar, enfolding him in her arms.
I could see he was as surprised as I was by her unusual display of affection. I don’t think I’d ever seen her hug him or even touch him before.
He stood awkwardly, arms by his side and rigid, unable to respond to his mother. There were tears in Roksana’s eyes. ‘Are you all right?’ I asked her, gently going over.
‘Not really,’ she said, and, releasing Oskar, she began to cry openly. Oskar had had his question answered: his mother wasn’t angry, but very upset.
He went to the table and brought back the box of tissues and gave one to her.
‘Thank you,’ she said between sobs.
‘Don’t cry, Mummy,’ he said in a small voice, looking at her anxiously.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, trying to stem her tears.
‘Would you like a few minutes by yourself?’ I asked her. ‘We could wait outside.’
‘No. I want him near me. I’ve phoned in sick at work. I couldn’t face it, but I told Andrew I’d be all right at contact.’
She wiped her eyes, blew her nose and gradually composed herself. ‘Sorry,’ she said again.
‘It’s OK.’
‘I’m all right,’ she told Oskar and the contact supervisor. I guessed he’d never seen his mother upset before; she always appeared strong. Then to me she said, ‘I know I’m not allowed to talk to Oskar about what he said, but can I phone you later, please?’
‘Yes, I don’t see why not.’ Carers are expected to work with the child’s parents as much as possible. I’d note her call in my log and pass on to Andrew anything he needed to know. However, Roksana hadn’t to be given my contact details.
‘I could phone you later,’ I suggested.
‘Yes, please.’
‘Around eight o’clock if that suits you,’ I said, so that it would be after Oskar was in bed.
‘Yes. I’m not working this evening.’
Oskar was still looking worried. ‘Come on, love, your mother is going to be OK now. Let’s find a game for you two to play.’
As Roksana finished wiping her eyes, I took Oskar to the shelves containing the boxes of puzzles and games. He chose a couple of puzzles and carried them to the sofa. Roksana joined him, and I left them sitting together, with Oskar slowly removing a game from its box. He wasn’t showing much enthusiasm and I knew contact was going to be difficult for both of them, but at least they were together for an hour.
When I returned to collect Oskar, he and his mother were still sitting side by side on the sofa, and unlike at previous contacts she didn’t appear in any hurry to leave, presumably because she wasn’t going to work. They were talking quietly, it seemed about Oskar’s school, and I wondered how often in the past they’d just sat and talked. I doubted it was much, for Roksana was always rushing from one job to another, leaving Oskar in the care of whoever had been in the house. I waited inside the door and it was a few moments before Roksana said to Oskar, ‘I think you have to go now, unless Cathy can come back later.’
I saw the contact supervisor glance over, though she left it to me to explain. ‘I’m afraid we have to keep to the time set,’ I said. ‘But you could ask Andrew if contact could be extended in the future.’ Andrew had originally offered Roksana longer, but she’d refused because of her work commitments.
‘I’ll have to see if I can change my shift,’ she said.
I nodded.
‘You go with Cathy then,’ she told Oskar, ‘and I’ll see what I can do.’
He immediately stood and came to me. ‘Would you like to give your mother a kiss goodbye?’ I suggested. Usually it’s not necessary for me to say this, as children naturally want to kiss and cuddle their parents at the end of contact, but Roksana and Oskar had never done that. They weren’t tactile. Oskar dutifully returned to his mother and kissed her cheek. She immediately welled up but didn’t kiss him back.
‘I’m sorry I’ve not been a better mother,’ she said, taking a tissue from the box.
Oskar clearly didn’t know what to say, so he gave his mother another kiss and came to me. ‘I’ll phone you at eight,’ I told Roksana.
‘Yes, please.’ She nodded and blew her nose. ‘Here’s my new number. The police have my old phone.’ I accepted the piece of paper she passed to me, and Oskar and I left.
Oskar was having to deal with his own emotions and really needed to see his mother strong, although I understood why she couldn’t be at present. Finding out that Oskar had been abused by people she trusted had clearly come as a huge shock. But in the vast majority of these cases, children are abused by someone they know. Stranger danger is rare. It’s usually someone the parents know and trust – a relative, friend or neighbour. Paedophiles are devious in gaining the trust of a parent and often target single parents, taking time to build a relationship with them and their family before they strike.
I waited until Oskar was in bed and asleep before I telephoned Roksana. I sat in the living room with the door closed. Paula was in her bedroom and Adrian and Lucy were out, although they wouldn’t be late back, as they had work in the morning. It was exactly eight o’clock as I pressed Roksana’s number. She answered straight away. ‘It’s Cathy.’
‘Oh, thank you so much for calling. I don’t know what to do,’ she said and burst into tears. ‘I’m sorry, I’m in a dreadful state,’ she continued through stifled sobs. ‘My solicitor can’t see me until next week. I don’t think I’ll ever get Oskar back now and my sister says it’s my fault. I don’t see any point in –’
‘Roksana,’ I interrupted. ‘I know this has come as a dreadful shock, but don’t lose hope. No one is accusing you of abusing Oskar or knowing he was being abused. He told me more than once that he didn’t tell you and I passed that on to Andrew.’
‘Thank you. But I feel I am to blame. I should have been more careful who I left him with. I know that’s what the police thought – that I was a bad mother for leaving him, but I had to.’
‘Were you interviewed by the police?’ I asked.
‘Yes, everyone in the house was. They raided us at five o’clock this morning. Some of us were still in bed. They questioned us all, but Mihai and Codrin had gone. I don’t know where they are now.’
‘Mihai and Codrin are the two men who abused Oskar?’ I asked.
‘Yes. I told the police their names, but I don’t know any more about them. Mihai was a friend of someone who lived in the house last year. When he and Codrin turned up needing somewhere to live we had a spare room, so we let them have it. That often happens here. People come and go, and we have to fill the house to pay the bills and send money home. They seemed OK, but I didn’t know them before they came to live with us. How was I to know they were perverts?’ She paused, again overcome with emotion.
Obviously, Roksana couldn’t have known they were ‘perverts’ – paedophiles are often outwardly as normal as the average person – but her mistake was to leave Oskar with people she didn’t know, which she now realized.
‘I’ve never been in trouble with the police before,’ sh
e continued through her tears. ‘We are all under suspicion and they have taken our iPads and smartphones. I feel like a criminal. I’ve had to buy a cheap phone, as I need it for work and calling my sister and Luka.’
‘It’s normal procedure to take these devices,’ I said. ‘The police will return them to you once they’ve finished with them.’
‘Yes, that’s what they said. I feel dirty. How am I ever going to get Oskar back now? I honestly had no idea he was being abused or I would have done something. Why didn’t he tell me?’
‘He was too scared. They threatened him and it took him a long time to tell me,’ I said diplomatically. But, of course, Roksana needed to have been there, with time to listen, ask the right questions and coax it out of him, which she hadn’t been. Not that I was blaming her, but Oskar might have been able to confide in his mother if they’d had a closer relationship. Since publishing my fostering memoirs, sadly I’ve heard from many adults who were abused as children and tried to tell, but either weren’t listened to or weren’t believed.
‘How is Oskar?’ Roksana finally thought to ask. ‘He seemed OK at contact.’
‘I doubt he’s OK,’ I said. ‘I think there’s a lot going on inside that he’s keeping a tight lid on at present.’
‘You don’t think there’s more?’ she asked, horrified.
‘I don’t know, but even if there’s not, it will take time for Oskar to heal emotionally. It will be nice if you can spend more time with him at contact. Did you ask Andrew?’
‘No, it’s not possible,’ she said. ‘I phoned the agency and I can’t change my evening shift. Oskar won’t mind.’
These words made me wonder just how much Roksana had learnt from what had happened and how far she was willing to change to try to win back custody of her son.
Chapter Seventeen
Sickening
Roksana had been right when she’d said Oskar appeared to be OK. He did outwardly, but I knew the hurt and anger from the abuse would be bubbling inside him. No one who has been abused walks away unscathed. His turmoil would surface eventually, one way or another.
