by Cathy Glass
‘Yes. Speaking.’
‘It’s the school secretary. Miss Rich is with me. Is Anna not coming into school today?’
‘Oh. Isn’t she there then?’
‘No, didn’t you know?’ I heard her concern.
‘I’m sure she’s all right. Anna stayed with her parents last night. They must have decided not to bring her into school today. You’d better phone them for confirmation.’
‘I’ll tell Miss Rich,’ she said. ‘And just a reminder that if a child is absent we expect the parent or carer to phone in and let us know before the start of school.’
‘Sorry,’ I said. Although of course I didn’t know Anna hadn’t gone to school; it had been her parents’ responsibility to notify the school.
‘Will Anna be in tomorrow? Miss Rich is asking,’ the secretary said.
‘Yes, I would think so. I should be bringing her.’
‘Thank you. I’ll let Miss Rich know.’ We said goodbye.
But why wasn’t Anna in school? I wondered. Had she been too upset, or refused to go? Or was there another, more sinister reason? It wasn’t for me to telephone the parents to find out, but I would tell Lori when she phoned. With one eye on the clock, I continued with various jobs and the morning ticked by. Just after twelve the phone rang and I quickly answered it, hoping it was Lori or Jill with news of Anna. It was Anna’s teacher, Mrs Taylor.
‘Whatever is going on?’ she asked, concerned. ‘Lauren Rich tells me that Anna didn’t return to you last night and is staying with her parents.’
‘Only for last night,’ I said.
I then went over what had happened since Anna had been collected from school by her parents the afternoon before to go to therapy.
When I’d finished Mrs Taylor let out a heartfelt sigh. ‘What a mess! I’m sure her parents don’t realize the harm they are doing. I always hoped Anna would go home eventually, but this is not the way to do it.’
I agreed.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bad Ending
By 1.30 p.m., when I still hadn’t heard from Jill or Lori, I telephoned my fostering agency and then waited for Jill to finish the call she was on. ‘Sorry,’ she said as she came on the line. ‘It’s manic here. I haven’t had a chance to speak to Lori. Do you know the arrangements for bringing Anna back?’
‘No, I haven’t heard from Lori. That’s why I’m phoning.’
‘OK. I’ll call her now and get back to you.’
‘Jill, can you tell her Anna isn’t in school today? I’m not sure if she knows. Also, remind her I shall be out between 3.15 and 3.45 collecting Adrian and Paula from school. I don’t want her and Anna arriving to an empty house.’
‘Will do.’
Another nail-biting wait followed and it was nearly an hour before the phone rang again. I answered in the living room – it was Jill. ‘I’ve only just managed to speak to Lori. Anna isn’t coming back to you today.’
‘Why not?’ I exclaimed.
‘The parents are adamant that Anna should stay with them. Ian has moved back in and now they are in therapy they say they can cope with her.’
‘But therapy won’t change things that quickly!’ I said with dismay.
‘I know. Lori has concerns so she is arranging a case conference, hopefully tomorrow, to decide what to do. You don’t have to go. They could return Anna to you straight after, but you need to prepare yourself for the other decision too.’
‘What? That Anna might not come back.’
‘Yes. Given that there is no suggestion the parents have abused or neglected Anna, it’s possible the social services might decide to leave her at home and monitor them.’ I was silent, my thoughts whirling. ‘I’m not saying that will be their decision,’ Jill said, ‘but prepare yourself and the kids too. I’ll phone you as soon as I hear.’ Jill was obviously still very busy and, quickly winding up the conversation, she said goodbye.
I replaced the handset and gazed through the open patio doors to the garden beyond. A small brave bird was at the feeder while our cat watched from beneath. If a child comes into care or has to move carers then whenever possible it is a ‘planned move’ with introductions and a visit to their new home first, so it’s not completely strange when they move in. While Anna obviously knew her parents and was familiar with her house, she hadn’t been there for nearly six months, and had only seen her father once in all that time. Also, the very reasons that had brought her into care in the first place were still ongoing. As far as I knew the parents were no more prepared now for dealing with Anna than they had been before. In an ideal world Anna would have spent time with her parents over the course of a few weeks, including overnight stays, leading up to a move home. During that period they would all be getting to know each other again, with the benefit of therapy, and her parents would feel more confident in dealing with her. What would happen if she stayed at home now and it didn’t work out? She’d come into care again, even more disturbed. I’d seen it happen – a child in and out of care – their behaviour deteriorating with each move. But social services budgets are tight and foster placements are in short supply. Anna hadn’t been abused or neglected, so any free carer would very likely be needed by a child who had been. While this wouldn’t be an overriding factor, it would be a consideration. Thankfully, it wasn’t my decision, so all I could do was wait and prepare myself and my children for the possibility that Anna might not be returning to us.
I raised the matter with Adrian and Paula at dinner.
‘The social workers are going to have a meeting soon, probably tomorrow, to decide where Anna should live.’
‘She lives here for now,’ Adrian said, puzzled.
‘Anna’s parents want her home and are working very hard to make that happen, so she might stay there.’
‘And not come back at all?’ Adrian asked, surprised.
‘Possibly. I don’t know yet.’
‘But all her things are here,’ he said, looking worried.
‘Yes, I know. If they do decide she is staying there, I’ll have to pack up all her belongings, then work out a way to get them to her.’
‘Oh,’ Adrian said. ‘So we don’t get to say goodbye.’
‘I don’t know yet, love.’
‘Doesn’t Anna like us?’ Paula asked.
‘Yes, of course, but her parents love her and want her home.’ I changed the subject for fear of emotion getting the better of me. It was so difficult. This wasn’t the way for a child we’d loved and cared for to leave.
On Friday I took Adrian and Paula to school and returned home but couldn’t settle to anything. Jill had said she’d phone as soon as she heard the outcome of the case conference, but hadn’t known when that meeting would be, or even if it would definitely be today. I thought it was likely, as if the meeting didn’t go ahead today it wouldn’t happen until Monday, as social services offices are closed at the weekend, and this wasn’t a decision that could be left. Anna was supposed to be in foster care and officially living with me; if anything went wrong over the weekend it would reflect badly on the social services as well as possibly putting Anna’s safety in jeopardy.
The day passed without any news and at 3.15 I left to collect Adrian and Paula from school. When they came out I could tell from their expressions that they were disappointed Anna wasn’t with me. She’d always been in the playground to meet them, and despite all the aggravation she’d caused us, she’d been part of our lives for all this time, another sibling, so of course they missed her. ‘I don’t know what’s happening yet,’ I said. ‘I’m still waiting to hear.’
It was nearly five o’clock before I got the call and I took it in the kitchen, where I was making dinner. Jill began with a big sigh. ‘The meeting went ahead this afternoon and hasn’t long finished. They made the decision to allow Anna to stay with her parents and the family will be monitored.’
‘Oh.’
‘Sorry, Cathy. I know it’s not what either of us wanted to hear. The parents have giv
en an undertaking that they will continue in family therapy and also take parenting classes. Lori’s manager raised concerns that the parents’ actions have had a detrimental effect on Anna. But it was felt that to insist she return to you and then start a planned move home was likely to make her more unsettled and upset. Lori is with the parents now, informing them of the decision.’
I was silent for a moment, taking it in. ‘Well, I hope it all works out for them,’ I said in a flat voice. ‘What about Anna’s belongings? They are all still here.’
‘Lori wants you to pack them up and then she’ll arrange to have them collected.’
‘OK,’ I said quietly.
‘I raised the matter of you and the children having a chance to say goodbye to Anna, and Lori will ask her parents. She also said that everyone at the meeting agreed you’d helped Anna, and had helped to stabilize the situation, allowing the parents time to sort themselves out.’
‘Good,’ I said, without much feeling. ‘I’m pleased I was of some help.’
‘So have a nice weekend then. It will be a quiet one for you,’ Jill added, trying to lighten the mood.
‘Yes, it will, and you.’
‘Take care. I’ll be in touch next week.’
We said goodbye. I replaced the handset and then went slowly into the garden where Adrian and Paula were sitting in the shade of the tree, watching a line of ants. I squatted nearby. ‘Jill just telephoned,’ I said. ‘Anna won’t be returning to live with us. The social workers have decided to leave her with her parents.’ Both children were quiet.
Normally when a child returns home it is good news and we are pleased for them, but of course now it was soured by the way it had been done. Usually, I would have arranged a little leaving party and bought the child a farewell gift and card. I’d still buy the card and gift, but clearly there’d be no party.
‘So we won’t see Anna again?’ Adrian finally asked, looking up.
‘Not unless her parents bring her to say goodbye,’ I replied, but I wasn’t hopeful.
Adrian isn’t one to show his feelings and he shrugged and concentrated on the ants again as though it didn’t matter. Paula said, ‘That’s sad for us but happy for Anna and her parents.’
‘Yes, it is,’ I agreed.
Having checked they were OK, I left them playing and returned indoors to make dinner. A little after 6 p.m., just as we’d finished eating, the phone rang. I answered in the kitchen while Adrian and Paula returned to the garden. I was slightly surprised to hear Lori. ‘I’m with Anna and her parents now,’ she said. ‘Ian would like to collect Anna’s belongings tomorrow. She’s hardly got anything here to wear.’
And whose fault is that? I felt like saying: her mother had packed all her belongings when she put her into care and then, without any warning, had removed her. But being professional I said, ‘All right, but I’ll need time to pack, so can we make it in the afternoon?’
‘What time?’ Lori asked.
‘One o’clock?’
I heard her repeat this, then she said, ‘Yes, that’s OK. Ian will be with you around one.’
‘Will Anna be coming to say goodbye?’ I asked. ‘Jill thought she might.’ I heard her relay this, but not the parents’ reply. Lori came on the line again. ‘Ian and Elaine will see how Anna feels in the morning.’ Which I had to accept, and the call ended.
I went into the garden and told Adrian and Paula that Anna’s father was coming to collect her belongings tomorrow afternoon and that I was going up to her room now to start packing, and to come and get me if they needed me. I could see them from Anna’s bedroom window and I worked for over an hour, packing her cases, bags and boxes. Then I spent some time with Adrian and Paula. Once they were in bed, I continued packing. I wanted to get as much done as possible tonight because in the morning I planned to go into town to buy Anna a leaving gift and card.
By 10 p.m. I’d cleared her bedroom so all that remained were the bags and boxes of things she hadn’t needed and I’d stowed away. I’d take those downstairs tomorrow. Anna’s room looked even more sorrowful and desolate now it was empty. With a final check that I hadn’t missed anything, I came out and closed the door.
Downstairs I made a much-needed mug of tea and took it into the living room where I wrote up my log notes, ending with the arrangements for tomorrow. If Anna came with her father to say goodbye then I’d add another entry; otherwise this would be the last. Closing my notes, I went to bed with a very heavy heart.
I wasn’t surprised the following afternoon at one when I answered the front door to find only Ian. ‘No Anna?’
‘No, she didn’t feel up to it,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Neither did Elaine.’
I nodded. ‘Come in.’
‘We didn’t get much sleep last night,’ he added. ‘Anna was very unsettled.’
No surprise there either, but I didn’t comment. It was difficult enough without making the situation worse. Adrian and Paula came into the hall from the living room half expecting to see Anna, and I told them she’d stayed at home with her mother. They returned to the living room.
‘Thanks for doing all this,’ Ian said, referring to all the bags and boxes stacked in the hall. He picked up two and I did likewise and we began loading his car. Back and forth, the hall emptied and his car filled. There was just enough room – the boot, rear seat and passenger seat were full. Last of all I handed him the gift-wrapped box containing a girl’s silver bracelet, and the farewell card signed by us all. ‘A little something for Anna,’ I said. ‘Will you say goodbye to her from us, please?’
‘Yes, of course.’ He looked embarrassed. ‘I suppose we should have bought you something really.’
‘No need. Look after yourselves and if ever you feel like getting in touch, do.’
He nodded stiffly and, saying goodbye, left. It was the most heartless ending I’d experienced in fostering. I didn’t expect to hear from them again.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A Long Way from Home
Not only had we not had a chance to say goodbye to Anna, but I hadn’t been able to say goodbye to Mrs Taylor or Miss Rich. So the following week I telephoned the school and asked the secretary if she’d pass on my thanks to Anna’s teacher and TA for all they had done for her while she’d been living with me. She said she would and that Anna was in school, but that was all she said.
Time passed. I didn’t hear anything about Anna, but then I hadn’t thought I would. When a child leaves a foster carer there is no compulsion for the social services to give the carer updates, and it relies on the child’s parents or guardians to keep in touch, which Elaine and Ian didn’t do. I hadn’t expected them to. They hadn’t even brought Anna to say goodbye, so it was unlikely they’d make the effort to keep in touch. I just hoped Anna settled down and wasn’t returned into care.
The years went by. I continued fostering as a single parent and went on to adopt one of my foster children, Lucy. A big decision for us all, but definitely the right one. Then one afternoon, seven years after Anna had left, Jill telephoned.
‘Do you remember a child called Anna Hudson?’ she asked.
‘Yes, of course. Why?’ Foster carers never forget the children they’ve looked after.
‘Her mother has been in touch with the social services. Anna would like to meet you.’
I was dumbstruck, and it was a moment before I could reply. ‘Really?’ I asked, amazed. ‘After all this time! I don’t believe it.’ My eyes immediately filled. I’d had children I’d fostered before get in contact after a long time, but never in a million years had I expected to hear from Anna or her family. ‘I don’t believe it,’ I said again. ‘Gosh. She must be nearly thirteen now.’
‘Yes, I believe so. Elaine told the social worker that she can remember where you live but doesn’t have your telephone number. She didn’t like to just turn up at your door. Shall I tell the social services to let her have your number?’
‘Yes, of course. I guess it must have all worked ou
t for them.’
‘I assume so. Lori – their social worker at the time – left a few years back, sometime after their case was closed. Doubtless Elaine will tell you all.’
‘Well, well, who would have thought it?’ I mused. ‘Just shows what an impression I made!’
Jill laughed. ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’
‘I am. You’ve made my day. I still can’t believe it.’
‘Speak soon,’ Jill said, rounding off the call.
For the rest of the day I floated on cloud nine, immersed in a warm glow of happiness and treasured memories, for once a child leaves I only remember the good times, not their negative behaviour. I was so pleased that Anna had asked to see us, but also that Elaine had passed on her wishes and telephoned the social services. She might not have done. She could have discouraged Anna or told her it wasn’t possible to contact me. But she’d done the decent thing and followed up on Anna’s request. I wondered what had prompted Anna’s interest in meeting me again. Possibly her age. She would be thirteen soon and young people often review and question their past as they enter their teenage years. I couldn’t wait to meet her and hear all her news.
Later, when my family returned home, I told Adrian (now aged sixteen) and Paula (twelve), and they were as amazed and pleased as I was and remembered Anna clearly. The carer’s children never forget their foster siblings either. I explained to Lucy (aged fourteen) who Anna was and she was happy for us. Having spent a large part of her early life before she came to me being moved between relatives and in and out of care, she appreciated the significance of Anna’s wish to see us and the importance of good endings.
It was nearly another week before Elaine rang and I was starting to think that perhaps Anna had changed her mind. Then one evening, after dinner, I answered the landline in the living room and a small female voice said, ‘Cathy, it’s Elaine Hudson.’
