by Casey Watson
Ashton climbed into the back seat of the car, and Anna helped him with his seat belt, and as she did so, I had to stop myself from fussing about the journey, and wanting to dash in and get him a travel-sickness pill. He’d be fine. It wasn’t far. He’d never actually been car sick. And then I watched as Mike stopped to say goodbye through the open window, the cacophony of Olivia’s wails almost drowning him out. I got the gist though: ‘Don’t be scared, mate. You’re a great kid … they’re going to love you … just like we do. We all do. Keep in touch …’
Then it was my turn, once Mike had taken Olivia from me, and once again, I had to speak to myself very, very sternly. ‘Hey, love,’ I said. ‘I am so going to miss you, you know that?’
He nodded glumly, his face contorted with the effort of not crying, as he wound his arms around my neck to say goodbye. And as I kissed him he did something entirely unexpected. He put his lips to my ear and whispered, ‘I love you’.
‘Right,’ said Anna. ‘Time to go, I think.’ She started the engine. ‘I’ll phone you,’ I told him, almost too choked to speak now. ‘In a few days, when you’re settled in, okay? Love you too, Ash. So much. Take care of yourself, okay?’
The car purred from the kerb, prompting fresh sobs from Olivia. ‘I love you, Ash! I love you!’ she screamed as the car moved, and as he turned to mouth it back, I could see his own tears begin to flow.
I took Olivia from Mike and set her down on the pavement, then knelt down and hugged her and cried my eyes out.
I barely slept a wink that night, which would have been no surprise to anyone. How could I, knowing we had to do it all again with Olivia in the morning? If it had been hard with Ashton, I knew it would be even worse with his little sister. For all that I would worry about Ash, I was comforted by the knowledge that there was a strength in him, a sense of self, that I knew would see him through. But little Olivia – tiny Olivia – with all her funny little mannerisms; she was so young and so vulnerable and so much the baby, that I couldn’t help but fret about how she would fare. Didn’t matter how much faith I had in Mick and Sandie. Saying goodbye to her was going to be so hard.
It wasn’t made easier by the fact that, perhaps as expected, she’d been so overcome by Ash’s leaving.
‘Did they tooken him somewhere else because he’s bin naughty?’ she asked Mike, almost as soon as we’d got back inside the house.
‘Not at all,’ he reassured her. ‘Quite the opposite, in fact. He’s gone to Kerry and Ian so they can take care of him,’ he explained. ‘Don’t you remember? Like Anna said? So they can make things nice for him again?’
‘But why couldn’t Ash come with me?’ she persisted.
‘Was it that bad mens? Did the bad mens say he couldn’t, cos he bummed me?’
Inspiration came from somewhere. ‘Not at all,’ I said firmly. ‘He’s gone with Ian and Kerry, because their own little boy has gone away now. So they’re very lonely, and Anna knew that lovely Ash would cheer them up.’
It was pathetic. It was all wrong, and perhaps I shouldn’t have said it. But, even so, it really seemed to help.
Mike, up before me on the Sunday morning, was already one step ahead of me. The first car that pulled up wasn’t Anna’s, but Lauren’s father’s. Dropping Kieron and Lauren off, as Mike had asked, bless him, to provide me with some much-needed moral support. Summoned likewise, Riley and Levi showed up on the doorstep moments later, so it was in the middle of a very crowded and noisy kitchen that Olivia, somewhat sleepy, after the trauma of yesterday, shyly handed me an envelope.
‘It’s for you an’ Mike,’ she said. ‘An’ you’re not allowed to open it till after. It’s a secret,’ she added, smiling bravely. I gathered her up onto my hip and then scrutinised the envelope. ‘This is beautiful,’ I said. ‘Goodness me, you’ve worked hard.’
It was too. She had covered it with carefully coloured pictures. ‘These is butterflies, an’ these are flowers and that was sposed to be a bird there but it don’ look much like one, because I got into a kerfluffle with the wings.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ I said. ‘Look, Riley, isn’t it beautiful?’
Riley nodded. ‘You are so good at drawing,’ she told Olivia. ‘Keep it up, okay? One day you might be a great artist and –’
‘Helloooo!’ came a voice then, through the still-open front door.
It was Anna. Olivia immediately began whimpering. ‘Don’t wanna go, Casey!’ she mumbled, burying her face in my neck.
‘Come on, sweetheart,’ I said, trooping after Mike into the hallway, to find Anna standing on the doorstep, holding a large cardboard box.
‘Well, hello,’ said Mike, obviously seeing something in her expression. ‘What have you got in there, then, Anna?’
‘A surprise,’ Anna answered. I felt Olivia lift her head. ‘For a certain little girl,’ Anna added. ‘From Mick and Sandie. Hey, Olivia, do you want to take a look?’
Anna leaned down and carefully placed the box on the floor, while I let Olivia down again.
‘Here,’ said Anna. ‘Open up this flap here, like this. It’s a very important present for an important little girl. You see, you’re not the only one moving to Mick and Sandie’s today …’
Olivia pulled open the first flap, then the other, to reveal, in the corner, sitting trembling on a square of blanket, a tiny brown and white terrier puppy.
‘Ooh, a doggy!’ Olivia squealed in delight.
‘A very little doggy,’ explained Anna, ‘who needs a special little girl to take very good care of him. Think you can do that?’
‘Ohh!’ Olivia squealed again, as Levi toddled up to join her. ‘Oh, he’s so sweet! What’s his name?’
‘He hasn’t got one yet,’ Anna told her. ‘Mick and Sandie said that would be your job. So you’ll have to start thinking right away.’
A stroke of genius, I decided, as we began gathering possessions and loading them into the back of Anna’s car. Because suddenly the atmosphere, previously so sad, had changed completely. Far from crying now, Olivia was practically skipping to the roadside, and leapt into the car without so much as a backwards glance. All her attention was focussed on the cardboard box beside her. Even Polly, at her side for almost every waking hour, had been relegated – dumped unceremoniously on the other rear seat. ‘You sit over there, Poll,’ she ordered. ‘So’s the doggie can sit by me. All right, liccle doggie?’ she crooned. ‘You okay?’
It seemed almost an afterthought to say goodbyes to us. ‘Bye Mike! Bye Casey! Bye ev-ryone elses!’ she sang. ‘I’ll tell you doggie’s name when I’ve thinked it!’
And after kissing us all in turn and promising to send us pictures, she was off down the road, waving happily.
I was so astounded, I just stood and stared after her for some moments, unable to fully comprehend what had just happened.
‘Oh, Mum,’ said Riley, laughing, ever the wag at such junctures. ‘You should see your face! It’s an absolute picture!’ I blinked at her. ‘Really,’ she went on. ‘It is – it’s priceless! You really were expecting a full-on drama, weren’t you?’
Seeing my daughter laughing at me brought me to my senses. ‘Well!’ I grumbled huffily, as both she and Kieron continued laughing. ‘Wouldn’t you?’ I noticed Mike was laughing too, then, so I huffed a bit more. ‘I mean, fancy being upstaged by a bloody puppy!’
‘That’s attachment disorder for you,’ John Fulshaw counselled wisely, on the Monday. I’d called him for a debrief. I didn’t really need to, not yet, but the house was much too quiet, and, as much as anything, I was glad to hear his voice. ‘That’s the thing,’ he went on. ‘You invest so much in these kids, and you worry so much about how they’ll miss you, don’t you? And there’s no doubt,’ he added diplomatically, ‘that they will. But they’ll be fine. You know that, don’t you? You’ve done wonders with them, both of you.’
‘Some good, at least, I hope,’ I said. ‘At least our best. Which is all we can do …’
‘Hey, but listen,
Casey. Actually, I’m very glad you called.’
I felt my hand grip the phone just a little tighter as he said that. Uh oh, I thought, what’s gone wrong? ‘Go on,’ I said warily, crossing my fingers. ‘What is it?’
‘Well, actually,’ he said, ‘it’s something quite strange.’ His tone was bright, though. I mentally relaxed. Just a little. ‘In fact, I’ve never come across something like this before.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well apparently, this eight-year-old boy has just turned up at social services – he made his own way there, by all accounts – and demanded that he be taken into care.’
‘And?’ I said, waiting for the punch-line.
It came.
‘Well, what do you think, Casey?’ he said, laughing.
Epilogue
‘Dear Casey, I luv you soooooooo much and so does Ash. We luv your cudduls and your kisses but when Myk kist us his chin ticculs. We will miss you and fink about you all the tym, keep ar picturs on the wall, lots of love from Olivia Wardhill age 7
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx’
This letter takes pride of place underneath the photograph of Olivia and Ashton that we took on the beach in South Wales. It still makes me smile every time I walk by it, as I remember their squeals and their anxious little faces when experiencing ‘the seaside’ for the very first time.
Two years down the line, both children are doing exceptionally well, and to my great relief, my fears about their separation have been laid to rest. Their respective carers have proved to be sensitive and full of wisdom about the children’s needs, and though they live apart, they are still very much in touch with each other and, as I write, their bond still remains strong. We see them too; they still come to visit us in the school holidays and I can’t help but feel so, so proud of them.
As for the disclosures made by the children when they were with us, Olivia, during her subsequent time with a counsellor, was actually very revealing. As I write, there have still been no arrests, it’s true, but even though officially it’s no longer of concern to us, John tells me that social services are still amassing evidence and that it’s ‘only a matter of time now’. So I’m still very confident that the biggest villain in all this will, one day, have that day in court.
I knew I would miss the children dreadfully – when they left, the house suddenly felt so quiet! – but having a second grandson to fuss over, not to mention our gorgeous Levi, helped keep me busy when I needed to be most. And all too soon, of course, came along the next ‘unfosterable’ foster child. One thing’s for sure about my chosen career – the work never, ever dries up …
It also helped to feel that, in giving Ashton and Olivia a loving home, we’d played a part in something so important. Had these children not been rescued from their hellish lives when they were, there’s little doubt that, as would also have been true for their younger siblings, they would have continued to be abused, and perhaps scarred to such a point that they would never live normal adult lives. As it turned out, they not only found their own way to a brighter future, they also ensured that the next generation would not become little prisoners themselves.
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Acknowledgements
I would like to thank all of the team at HarperCollins, the lovely Andrew Lownie, and my friend and mentor, Lynne.
Copyright
This book is a work of non-fiction based on the author’s experiences.
In order to protect privacy, names, identifying characteristics, dialogue and details have been changed or reconstructed.
HarperElement
An Imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
77–85 Fulham Palace Road,
Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
www.harpercollins.co.uk
and HarperElement are trademarks of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
First published by HarperElement 2012
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
© Casey Watson 2012
Casey Watson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978-0-00-743660-6
LITTLE PRISONERS. © Casey Watson 2012. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition © APRIL 2012 ISBN: 978-0-00-743661-3
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Copyright
About the Publisher
