by Cathy Glass
‘Alice, answer your grandpa,’ I said, but Alice was resolute in her withdrawal and punishment. Eventually I took the phone from its cradle and apologized to Mr Jones.
‘Is she all right?’ he asked, very concerned. ‘She sounds upset.’
‘She’s missing you both,’ I said. ‘But she’s had a good day. I’ll have another chat with her when we’ve finished. I think she’s blaming you and your wife for not seeing her more often. You have contact next week and I’m sure when she sees you she will be fine, but for now I think it’s probably best to end this phone call. I appreciate how upsetting it must be for you to hear her sounding so sad.’
‘Yes, it is,’ Mr Jones confirmed. ‘Can I just say goodnight to her?’
‘Of course.’
I returned the phone to its cradle. ‘Say goodnight to your grandpa,’ I said.
‘Goodnight, Alice, love,’ Grandpa said. ‘See you on Wednesday.’
Alice forced a very small and dejected, ‘Goodnight,’ and that was it – no kisses were sent or caught.
I said goodbye and, severing the line, turned to Alice: ‘Look, love, I know you’re hurting, but it isn’t nice to punish your nana and grandpa by not talking to them. It’s not their fault they can’t see you more often, and it must be very upsetting for them to listen to you sounding so sad. You’re not sad most of the time, are you? We’ve had a nice day.’
‘I am sad,’ Alice said. ‘You don’t know. I’m sad inside, but I don’t always tell you. I smile and laugh but inside I’m sad.’ Her face puckered and I put my arm around her and, drawing her to me, hugged her.
‘I do understand, love, honestly I do, but try not to hurt your nana and grandpa. It will just make you unhappy.’
First thing on Monday morning, after I’d taken Alice to nursery, I phoned Kitty. I asked her why Alice’s contact with her grandparents had been set so low, and if it was possible to increase it, as Alice was finding the separation more difficult to cope with the longer it went on. Kitty said contact had been set low in preparation for Alice going to live with her father and Sharon, which had been expected to take place within a month of Alice coming to me. She also said it would be inadvisable to increase the contact now, because if Alice went to live with her father (which was still the care plan) then contact with her grandparents would be reduced further – to about once a month, and then three times a year. I knew from looking after other children that this type of reduction in contact was usual, and was designed to encourage the child to bond with the family they were going to live with – that is, their permanent, forever family – and reduce their dependence on any previous family or care giver. All very well in theory, but it wasn’t always so easy in practice.
I also asked Kitty if she thought it was at all possible to establish some telephone contact between Alice and her mother if I carefully monitored it, and Kitty said it was something she was already considering. Kitty said she had been trying to meet Leah so that she could assess if Leah was stable enough to have telephone contact and would know what was appropriate conversation if phone contact was started. It wouldn’t be appropriate, for example, for Leah to talk endlessly about how unhappy she was, criticize Chris or give Alice false hopes of her being able to live with her again. But to date Kitty hadn’t been able to meet Leah, as Leah had failed to keep the three appointments Kitty had set up. Although this wasn’t encouraging news, I felt that at least Kitty was on Alice’s case, was sensitive to Alice’s needs and was doing her best for Alice.
When Alice saw her nana and grandpa at contact the following Wednesday she immediately forgot her anger and ran into their arms. I had thought she would but I was nevertheless relieved and pleased, as were her grandparents. They had a lovely time although, as usual, an hour simply wasn’t long enough and all three were very sad at parting.
But while face-to-face contact with her grandparents remained very positive, the telephone contact continued to be variable. Sometimes Alice would chat happily to her nana and grandpa and at other times she refused to speak to them or answered a sombre ‘No’ to their questions. If Alice had been unresponsive I always spoke to Mr and Mrs Jones and reassured them that Alice was otherwise well and happy. They thanked me and said they understood, although I could hear the great sadness, loss and disappointment in their voices.
But more worrying than Alice refusing to speak to her grandparents on the phone was that Alice remained resolute in her assertion that she didn’t have a mummy; she even told her nana and grandpa she didn’t at one contact, which made them very upset. By then Alice had completely stopped talking about all the happy memories she had of her mother and indeed never mentioned her. Her mother’s photograph, which had sat at the front of the shelf, lost its favoured position and was now in a straight line with the photograph of her grandparents and the one of her father and Sharon – all having equal status at the back of the shelf.
I supposed that in terms of Alice transferring her affection from her mother and grandparents to her father and Sharon (as was intended by the limited contact and in line with the care plan) this ‘realignment’ could be viewed in a positive light, and might have been had the care plan been continuing as it was supposed to. But, perversely just as Alice’s attachment to her mother and grandparents might have been diminishing so that she would be in a better position to transfer her affection to those she was in regular contact with and would likely be going to live with, it was noted by the contact supervisor that ‘Sharon’s enthusiasm for Alice seems to be wearing thin.’
‘What do you mean “wearing thin”?’ I asked Kitty when she told me over the phone. ‘Alice isn’t a new toy where the novelty wears off.’
‘No, but that’s what the supervisor has noted. I suppose you can’t really blame Sharon, as it’s all been going on for so long. Sharon had expected Alice to go and live with them months ago, and we’re still a way from that. Their parenting assessment isn’t complete yet, and I’m still waiting for the results of some other enquires I’ve made. I take it Alice hasn’t said anything to you about Sharon losing interest?’
‘No, but she has never talked much about her.’
‘I’m going to meet Chris and Sharon next week and see what’s going on. I’m also still trying to find out exactly what happened last August. Mr and Mrs Jones are adamant that Chris reappeared in Leah’s life and was responsible for getting her into drugs, which led to her breakdown. They claim he assaulted her. Chris denies it and says he saw Leah only once, and that was in the street. I wonder if it’s worth asking Alice what she remembers of last summer? She’s smart, and at her age she should have some recollection of a year ago. Do you think you could bring up the subject? Don’t push it if she seems reluctant or can’t remember.’
‘I’ll try,’ I said. ‘Although I’m not sure how productive it will be. As you know, Alice refuses to talk about her mother now, even about the happy times.’
‘Try approaching it from another angle,’ Kitty said, thinking aloud. ‘Ask Alice if she remembers seeing her dad last summer. If she does, see if you can find out when, where and how often. I would ask her, but I’ve only been in her life a short while, and she trusts you.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ I said.
‘Thanks, Cathy. If Alice says anything that is relevant, can you write it down and send me a copy, please?’
‘Yes, of course.’
I didn’t hold out much hope of Alice telling me anything if it was connected with her mother. Alice was dealing with her pain and loss by burying all memory of her mother and the years she had lived with her. I didn’t see why mentioning her father would make a difference. But as it turned out, Alice was not only able to remember seeing her father the previous summer, but willing to tell me of the traumatic events that were to change the course of her life.
Chapter Twenty-Five
‘Icing Sugar’
It was the following Sunday, late morning, when I spotted a golden opportunity to introduce the subject of the p
ast, and the memories we carry from it. Alice had wanted to look at some of my photograph albums, as she did from time to time. These albums contained pictures of my family and also the children we’d looked after, some of them going back years. Alice and I were in the sitting room with the French windows open on another gloriously warm sunny day. I was sitting beside her on the floor as she turned the pages of the album and asked questions about the children in the photographs.
‘You’ve got lots and lots of pictures,’ she said, closing one album and opening the next.
‘Yes. I like photographs.’
‘Why?’ she asked.
‘It reminds me of all the good times we’ve had. Sometimes memories can fade, so it’s nice to have something to remind us. That’s why I take lots of photographs of you – so that when you leave we will both have something to remember each other by.’ Alice didn’t say anything but studied the present page of photographs, which had been taken in the summer two years previously. Adrian had been twelve, Paula eight, and Lucy hadn’t arrived yet. In Lucy’s place was a five-year-old boy who had stayed with us for three months. Adrian was kicking a ball to him while Paula could be seen in the background on the swings.
As Alice looked at the photographs I casually said: ‘These photographs were taken one summer. I like summer. Do you remember last summer – before you went to live with your nana and grandpa?’
‘Yes,’ she said with a small nod.
‘I thought you might, because you have a very good memory. Do you remember seeing your dad last summer? Before you started seeing him at the family centre for contact?’
‘Yes,’ she said again, still looking at the photographs.
I was surprised, because Alice had never mentioned it. I paused, wondering how best to proceed, and then decided a direct and honest approach would work best with Alice. ‘Alice, this could be important, so I want you to think hard. Kitty has asked me if you can tell me what you remember of seeing your dad last summer.’
‘We met him outside our flat,’ Alice said without hesitation.
‘Who’s “we”?’
‘Mummy and me.’
‘What, you mean in the street outside the flat, where you lived with your mummy?’
Alice nodded. This confirmed what Chris had said at the review – that he’d met Leah in the street once, although he hadn’t mentioned Alice being there.
‘Were you surprised to see him?’ I asked. ‘Or did Mummy tell you that you were going to meet him?’
‘I was surprised. I didn’t know him. He said he was my daddy, and Mummy said he was.’
‘And was Mummy surprised to see him, do you remember?’
‘Yes.’
‘So what did you do? Did you talk to him or just carry on going with Mummy? Do you remember?’
‘He came into our flat,’ Alice said, again without hesitation.
‘Your mummy asked him to come in?’
‘I think so.’
‘And were you happy for him to come to your flat?’ She shrugged and turned another page in the album. ‘So what happened when Daddy came in? Did Mummy make him a drink? Did he play with you? Don’t worry if you can’t remember.’
‘He stayed, for a long time,’ Alice said.
‘What, for the whole day?’
‘No, lots of days and nights. Mummy was happy to begin with, and I liked it for a bit. It was like a proper family with a mummy and daddy. Then he made Mummy upset and angry and she shouted a lot.’
‘That was very sad, and it can be frightening when adults shout. Did Mummy shout at you?’
‘No, she shouted at Daddy. And he made Mummy cry,’ Alice added. I wondered if this could have been the screaming and shouting the neighbours had heard last August and had reported to the police – unaware that Chris was in the house, they’d assumed it was Alice Leah had been shouting at.
‘Alice, what did Daddy do to make Mummy shout and cry? Do you know?’ I sensed I might not want to hear the answer, and I was right.
‘He kicked Mummy in the head and the tummy. It hurt her so much she screamed and cried.’
I looked at Alice carefully. She had stopped turning the pages of the album and was now staring at it as though staring through it, as she concentrated on what she was remembering.
‘It was very naughty of him to hurt Mummy,’ I said. ‘It’s wrong for people to hurt each other, and certainly mummies and daddies should look after each other. Alice, why haven’t you told me all this before?’
‘He’ – she meant her father – ‘said I mustn’t tell. And Mummy said it would make it bad for her if I told.’
‘When was this said to you? Last summer?’
Alice nodded. Then her brow creased. ‘Sometimes he used his head and banged it in Mummy’s face. He made her nose bleed and it was all swollen. One day I saw Mummy on the floor and Daddy was kicking her. I went to help her and he kicked me too. Daddy said he didn’t mean it – I got in the way. But I didn’t like him hurting my mummy. I wanted to help her.’
I was appalled. This was the man Alice was seeing regularly at contact and with whom she was supposed to be going to live! ‘Daddies shouldn’t do hurtful things and certainly not kick and head-butt,’ I said. ‘It’s very, very wrong.’
‘That’s what Nana and Grandpa said.’
‘You told them?’
‘They saw what he did. The last time, when Mummy was on the floor, there was lots of blood and she couldn’t get up. After Daddy had gone, I helped Mummy crawl to the phone so she could phone Grandpa. She told him she had been hurt and Grandpa and Nana came in the car and took us to their house. They made Mummy better and said Daddy was an evil man.’ Alice paused and, still deep in thought, said reflectively: ‘Daddy was horrible to me and my mummy at our flat, but he’s nice to me now.’ Well, yes, I thought, he would be in supervised contact and in front of Sharon; he couldn’t be anything else but nice! My anger flared.
I was shocked by what Alice had told me, and greatly saddened that a young child had had to witness such horrendous domestic violence. But on another level I was pleased Alice had witnessed it, and had been able to tell me, for it supported what Mr and Mrs Jones had been claiming all along, and also put Chris in an entirely new (and worrying) light. Once Kitty was aware of what Alice had said, doubtless further investigation would be carried out into Chris’s background and suitability to parent Alice, which must now surely be called into question.
However, as if what Alice had already witnessed wasn’t bad enough, there was more to follow, which made me wonder why Mr and Mrs Jones’s claims had been so easily dismissed, and why Chris hadn’t been investigated sooner, before it was decided that Alice should go and live with him.
‘Alice, you did very well remembering all that,’ I said, giving her a hug. ‘Is there anything else you want to tell me or is that it?’
‘He stayed lots of nights,’ Alice said again, returning her gaze to the photographs. ‘And he was horrible to my mummy. Sometimes he pulled her hair out and made her scream. Sometimes he teased her and made her beg.’
‘How do you mean, “teased her and made her beg”? Can you explain?’
Alice was looking at the photograph of Adrian and Paula having a water fight in the garden, their enjoyment a far cry from what Alice was now remembering. ‘Daddy had something Mummy wanted and he wouldn’t give it to her. He teased her with it,’ Alice said.
‘What sort of something?’
‘I don’t know. It was like icing sugar in a small plastic bag. He held it in his hand above Mummy’s head, and when she tried to grab it, he moved it and laughed. That’s teasing, isn’t it?’
‘It certainly sounds like it.’
‘The only way she could get the bag was to beg. She had to kneel down in front of him and pretend she was a dog. He made her run round his legs and bark. Then she had to kiss his feet and he gave her the bag of icing sugar.’
‘Then what happened after he’d given Mummy the bag?’ I asked, trying to
keep my voice even.
‘Mummy went into the bathroom and when she came out she was happy again, for a little while. Daddy put some of the icing sugar on some paper in a little line and sniffed it like he had a cold.’
I nodded. There was no doubt in my mind that the ‘icing sugar’ was an illegal drug, probably cocaine – which was either snorted, or sometimes diluted in water and injected. At the review Mr Jones had said that Chris had introduced Leah to drugs and used his words – ‘one little line won’t hurt, just for old times’ sake’. A line of cocaine is exactly what it says – a thin line of cocaine powder, which can be snorted. What Alice had just told me seemed to substantiate Mr Jones’s claim that Chris had got Leah on drugs. It was shocking that Alice had had to witness all this, but thank goodness she had.
‘Well done for telling me all this,’ I said again. ‘It must have been very upsetting for you to watch.’ She nodded and I gave her another hug. ‘Is there anything else you can remember so I can tell Kitty?’ Alice shook her head. ‘One last question, Alice: did you see your dad after you left the flat and went to live with your nana and grandpa?’
‘I didn’t see him, but he came to Nana’s house and wanted to see Mummy. Nana wouldn’t let him in. He pushed Grandpa and tried to force his way in. Nana called the police.’
‘But you didn’t see him?’
‘No.’
‘All right, love, well done. Let’s talk about something nice now. You see these photographs,’ I said pointing to the next page in the album. Alice nodded. ‘They were taken while we were on holiday. When school finishes in July we shall all go on holiday to the seaside.’ Alice smiled.
While Alice pored over the photographs of sea and sand and happy children paddling, I grabbed my folder and began writing up my log notes while what she had told me was still fresh in my mind. As I wrote, I used the words Alice had used as much as possible – a verbatim account gives credence to the disclosures a child makes. But I knew that while I believed what Alice had told me, it would doubtless be hotly denied by Chris (and Sharon), and would still have to be proved. How could it be proved? I’d no idea, but one thing that had occurred to me was that if Chris had gone to Mr and Mrs Jones’s house looking for trouble, and Mrs Jones had called the police as Alice said, then surely the police would have a record of that 999 call. I knew it wasn’t much in terms of evidence, but it was a starting point that would surely uphold what Alice had told me and what Mr and Mrs Jones were saying, and would, I hoped, lead to the truth of what had happened last summer when Chris had reappeared in Leah’s life.
