I Miss Mummy

by Cathy Glass

  The girls were quiet, understanding the dilemma. With the vast majority of the children we’d looked after, the decision as to where they eventually lived – with parents, relatives, long-term foster carers or adoptive parents – seemed right, but not here. Now, there seemed no ideal solution.

  ‘I feel sorry for Alice,’ Paula said at last. ‘It’s not like her family were horrible to her.’

  ‘No,’ Lucy agreed. ‘They were very kind to her but she can’t live with them.’

  I looked at Lucy and Paula, whose faces I had made glum by sharing my concerns. ‘Don’t you two worry about it,’ I said with a brave smile. ‘I’m sure it will all turn out for the best in the end.’ Although for the life of me I couldn’t see how it would.

  After a quick cup of tea I returned to the family centre to collect Alice, my thoughts now concentrating on meeting Leah and comforting Alice after she’d had to leave her mother. I waited in reception until it was exactly five o’clock; then I went to Red Room and knocked on the door before going in. Kitty and the contact supervisor were more or less as I’d left them – on the sofa facing the door – while Alice now sat beside her mother on the other sofa, listening to a story. They all looked up as I entered and Alice’s face puckered, aware what my arrival meant. I felt like a wicked witch coming to take her away.

  ‘It’s time to go now,’ Kitty said gently.

  I smiled at Leah as I crossed to shake her hand. ‘I’m very pleased to see you.’

  Leah returned my smile and, keeping one arm around Alice and the book open on her lap, shook my hand. ‘I can’t thank you enough for looking after Alice,’ she said in a small gentle voice. ‘You’ve been so kind to us.’

  My heart went out to her. ‘Alice is a pleasure to look after,’ I said. ‘She’s a lovely child, and a real credit to you.’

  I realized immediately it was the wrong thing to say. In Leah’s fragile and sensitive state my well-intentioned comment touched a raw nerve. Leah’s face crumpled and she began to cry. Taking her arm from around Alice, she rummaged in her handbag for a tissue.

  Kitty stood and came over. ‘Time to go now, Alice,’ she said again. ‘Say goodbye to Mummy.’

  I knew saying goodbye was going to be painful but I also knew, as did Kitty and the contact supervisor, that prolonging it was only going to make it worse. Alice remained where she was, seated on the sofa and now holding on to her mother’s arm. ‘Say goodbye, Alice. Good girl,’ Kitty said as Leah wiped her eyes.

  Alice shook her head. ‘No,’ she said, and began to cry.

  Leah turned to her daughter and, lightly placing her hands on her shoulders, turned to her so she could look into her eyes. ‘We have to say goodbye now, love,’ she said, being incredibly brave, ‘but we’ll see each other again next week.’

  Alice shook her head and clung tighter to her mother’s arm. ‘No,’ she cried. ‘I want to stay with you. Don’t make me go, Mummy. Please don’t make me go.’

  Leah started crying again as she tried to open Alice’s fingers from around her arm. ‘Come on, love, give me a kiss, and say goodbye,’ she said. Alice wouldn’t. Leah kissed her daughter’s forehead. ‘Please, Alice, you have to go.’

  ‘No!’ Alice shrieked.

  ‘Come on, Alice,’ Kitty encouraged, going closer. ‘Say goodbye to your mummy.’

  ‘No!’ Alice shrieked again and clung on to her mother all the more.

  Crying openly now, Leah looked up at Kitty and pleaded: ‘Just take her, please. I can’t bear to see her like this.’

  Kitty leant forward and, opening Alice’s fingers from around her mother’s arm, quickly lifted Alice from the sofa and put her into my arms.

  ‘Goodbye, Alice,’ Leah called through tears. ‘See you next week. Be a good girl.’

  Alice shrieked. ‘No! I want to stay!’

  I carried Alice from the room, down the corridor and out of the family centre with her sobbing and thrashing her arms and legs. It was just as well Alice was slight, but even so I struggled to hold her and not drop her. I managed to open the rear door of the car and lift her into her seat. ‘I hate you,’ she shouted at me through her tears. ‘I don’t want to go home with you. I want my mummy.’

  ‘I know you do, love. I understand.’

  I climbed into the back of the car and sat next to Alice, where I held her and tried to reassure her, as she sobbed that she wanted her mummy and hated me. After about ten minutes she was calm enough for me to wipe her face with a tissue and then fasten her seatbelt, ready for the drive home. Alice didn’t speak during the twenty-minute journey and I didn’t say anything either – I recognized she needed time to come to terms with seeing her mother and having to say goodbye.

  By the time we arrived home Alice didn’t look quite so sad. As I opened the car door and helped her out, she said quietly: ‘I love my mummy.’

  ‘I know you do, pet. And she loves you very much. I know how difficult this is, but now you are seeing your mother each week it should start to get a bit easier.’

  Alice nodded and slipping her hand into mine gave it a squeeze, and I knew I had been forgiven for taking her away.

  Lucy and Paula, as before, were waiting in the hall. ‘I’ve seen my mummy,’ Alice announced proudly, although still a little subdued, as we entered.

  Lucy and Paula both clapped and gave little whoops of joy, which made Alice laugh. I helped her out of her coat and she began telling Lucy and Paula all about her mummy: how her hair was longer than it had been when she’d last seen her, how kind she was and the games they’d played at contact. The phone rang and I answered it in the hall. It was Kitty, asking if Alice was all right now.

  ‘She’s fine,’ I said. ‘We’ve just got in.’

  ‘Good. I promised I’d phone Leah after I’d spoken to you to put her mind at rest. She was so upset after Alice had left. I told her how well she had done.’

  ‘She did very well,’ I said. ‘Please tell Leah Alice soon settled in the car and is all right now. She’s going to have some dinner soon. She sends her love and is looking forward to seeing her next week.’

  ‘Thanks, Cathy. I’ll tell Leah.’ Kitty paused and I heard her take a long breath. ‘You know, Cathy, although Leah has had a lot of problems, underneath she’s a lovely person. Despite losing her daughter, she isn’t bitter and only wants what’s best for Alice. The trouble is I’m not sure I know what is best for Alice. I’ve had sleepless nights over this. I can’t for the life of me see a way forward, and in some respects I question the decision to bring Alice into care in the first place.’

  ‘I completely understand,’ I said.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Very Disappointed

  Kitty wasn’t the only one who was expressing doubts about the decision to bring Alice into care. The following day, Carole, the Guardian ad Litem, telephoned to make an appointment to visit Alice, and at the same time asked me for an update. Since Carole had visited Alice six months previously, when Alice had been with me for two months, apart from a phone call when she’d asked me to update her, we hadn’t seen her. I now told her that Alice had settled into school, was eating and sleeping well, and had finally seen her mother the evening before, which she already knew from Kitty.

  ‘And how is Alice today?’ Carole asked.

  ‘Counting the days until next Monday when she can see her mother again.’

  Carole sighed. ‘Oh dear. I had doubts about this case right at the beginning and I’m not at all happy with the way it’s going. Alice has been kept without a decision on her future for far too long. Remind me when she came to you.’

  ‘Beginning of March.’

  ‘And it’s now mid-November, so that’s over eight months. She was supposed to have been with you for four weeks, then settled with her father and Sharon.’ She sighed again.

  ‘Are you’re still considering Alice going to live with Chris and Sharon?’ I asked.

  ‘The social services are.’ From which I took it that Carole didn’t ne
cessarily agree – Guardians work independently of the social services and don’t always uphold the social services’ decisions. ‘Cathy,’ she said after a moment. ‘You’re an experienced foster carer. How would you have handled this case? I’d be interested to hear your view.’

  I’d never been asked that before by a Guardian. But put on the spot I went over the worries I’d harboured since Alice had first arrived. ‘Alice was being well looked after by her grandparents,’ I began. ‘I know there were concerns about Leah having access to Alice while she was at her grandparents, but personally I trust Mr and Mrs Jones’s judgement. They wouldn’t have put Alice in danger and I’m sure they would have supervised Alice when Leah was there. Based on what I know of the case, if it had been my decision, I would have left Alice with her grandparents with monitoring and support. It would have given Leah the time she needed to seek help and hopefully recover. I’m sure losing Alice by having her taken into care – with the prospect of her going to live with Chris – has set back Leah’s recovery. Also a more thorough investigation of Chris could have been carried out at that time, while Alice was with her grandparents.’

  ‘Chris was investigated,’ Carole put in a little defensively. ‘And based on what the department knew at the time, it was felt that going to her father was the best option for Alice’s long-term care. And might still be. I don’t think the social services would have had the resources to investigate further.’ How many times had I heard that! – lack of resources, i.e. not enough money being responsible for a less-than-perfect job?

  ‘At least having Alice in foster care for all this time has allowed a more thorough investigation to take place,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, by default,’ Carole admitted. She paused again, presumably thinking about what I’d said. ‘Anyway, I’ll see you next week. Will you tell Alice I’m coming and remind her who I am? It’s a while since I’ve seen her.’

  ‘Yes, I will.’

  ‘Carole is the Guardian ad Litem. You’ve met her a couple of times before,’ I said to Alice the following Wednesday as we waited for Carole to arrive. Alice saw her grandparents on alternate Wednesdays and this was one of the Wednesdays when she didn’t see them, so we’d come home straight from school. ‘Carole speaks to all your family,’ I explained. ‘Your mum, dad, nana and grandpa, and you and me, and then she tells the judge what she believes is best for you.’

  ‘I know what is best for me,’ Alice said. ‘I want to live with my mummy.’

  ‘You can tell Carole that,’ I said, ‘but, Alice, we’ve already talked about why it isn’t possible for you to live with your mummy.’ As usual when I said this or something similar Alice returned to her play or changed the subject.

  When Carole arrived ten minutes later, Alice told her what was best for her, even before Carole had taken off her coat! ‘You must tell the judge I want to live with my mummy, not Dad and Sharon,’ Alice said defiantly.

  ‘I see,’ Carole said with a small smile. ‘Shall we go and sit down first? Then we can have a chat.’

  I showed Carole through to the sitting room, made her a cup of coffee and then left her alone with Alice, which was usual when the Guardian visited, just as it was when the social worker visited, so that they had a chance to talk in private.

  Half an hour later Alice came into the kitchen to fetch me. ‘Carole wants to see you now. Can I watch television?’

  ‘Yes. Pop upstairs and ask Paula or Lucy to switch it on for you.’

  Alice raced upstairs on all fours as I went into the sitting room.

  ‘Alice is very articulate for a child of her age,’ Carole said ruefully. ‘She certainly knows her own mind, although of course she doesn’t know what is best for her. She really doesn’t understand why she can’t live with her mother.’

  ‘I have tried to explain,’ I said.

  ‘I’m sure you have, but she’s not taking it in. She’s in denial, which is understandable but is going to need addressing in therapy. Look, I won’t keep you further,’ Carole said, making a move to go. ‘You updated me on the phone last week. The only new development is that I’ve found out it will be at least six months before Chris’s case goes to the criminal court.’

  I looked at her in dismay. ‘I thought it was being hurried through?’

  ‘Apparently not: there is a long list of prosecutions waiting to go to court. I’m not prepared to keep Alice waiting indefinitely for a decision on her future. I know she’s happy with you, but this was only ever going to be a short-term measure. I’m meeting with the social services the week after next to review Alice’s case. If the care plan is wrong, and Alice isn’t going to live with her father and Sharon, then they need to be putting it right very quickly.’

  ‘But how?’ I asked. ‘Adoption?’

  ‘Possibly. I’m not sure yet. I’m exploring all avenues.’

  Although I was pleased Carole was being proactive and questioning Alice’s case, I couldn’t see what other ‘avenues’ there were to explore, as all options for Alice’s long-term care seemed to have been considered. Sometimes care plans, drawn up early in childcare proceedings, need slightly adjusting as time passes and situations change. But to admit a care plan was entirely wrong is unusual, and putting it right in Alice’s case wasn’t going to be easy. None of the options available seemed right for Alice and, not for the first time, I considered offering to keep Alice permanently – either as a long-term foster placement or by adopting her. But I wasn’t sure this was right for Alice either; and if I made the offer now, might it confuse and slow down the process even further? If Alice was going to be adopted, shouldn’t it really be to a younger, childless couple who had been denied the wondrous gift of parenthood? I already had two natural children and had been privileged to foster many, many more; wasn’t it greedy of me to want Alice? The whole situation was becoming very confused and in the meantime, while Carole and Kitty were reexamining Alice’s case, Alice was in limbo, unsure of whom she should be bonding with, or where she would eventually live.

  Alice’s next contact with her mother the following Monday was less traumatic, although Leah and Alice still parted in tears, and I again felt like the wicked witch as I carried Alice away sobbing from her mother. That week Alice had contact as usual with her father and Sharon on Tuesday and Thursday, as well as the fortnightly contact with her grandparents on Wednesday. So for four afternoons I collected Alice, already tired from a day at school, and took her to the family centre, and then returned to collect her an hour later. By Friday she was so exhausted she fell asleep on the sofa at 6.00 p.m.

  By the first week in December I was using all my spare time to go Christmas shopping. Apart from buying presents for my family and friends, and filling four sacks (Adrian, Lucy and Paula didn’t feel they were too old to hang up their sacks on Christmas Eve), I also took Alice shopping to buy presents for her grandparents, mum, dad and Sharon, and also Leah’s partner, Mike. Paula helped Alice write her Christmas cards.

  On the second Saturday in December, in the evening, when Alice had finished speaking to her nana and grandpa on the phone, Mrs Jones asked to speak to me, as she often did. I sent Alice off to find Adrian, Lucy or Paula, and I closed the sitting-room door so I couldn’t be overheard. Mrs Jones often simply wanted some reassurance – to know Alice was eating well, or warm enough, and how she was getting on at school, etc. – but I didn’t like talking about Alice in front of her, even if it was positive, which was why I always spoke so Alice couldn’t hear. Now what Mrs Jones told me certainly wasn’t for Alice’s ears.

  ‘Did you know Chris hit Sharon last week?’ Mrs Jones said as soon as I picked up the phone.

  ‘No,’ I said shocked. ‘I didn’t. I’m sorry. Was she badly hurt?’

  ‘No. More shaken than anything. She turned up at Leah’s flat at nine o’clock on Thursday evening in a right state.’

  ‘Sharon went to Leah’s?’ I asked, incredulous.

  ‘Yes. I’d have sent her packing. But Leah has a heart of gold a
nd felt sorry for her, and asked her in.’ I couldn’t believe it – here was Sharon, who didn’t have a good word to say about Leah and wanted her child, seeking refuge in Leah’s flat!

  ‘Good grief!’ I said. ‘So where is Sharon now?’

  ‘Once Sharon had stopped crying, she phoned Chris on her mobile from Leah’s flat, apologized to him and then asked him to collect her in the car. She said she had provoked him into hitting her. I doubt it, but that’s up to her.’

  ‘And did Leah speak to Chris?’

  ‘No. She stayed in her flat while Sharon went out to the car.’

  ‘Does Kitty know all this?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, I told her. I wasn’t sure Leah would. And the other piece of news, which is better news, is that our parenting assessment has been completed satisfactorily.’

  ‘Good,’ I said hesitantly, and hoped Mrs Jones hadn’t read too much into this. A positive parenting assessment simply means that those being assessed have demonstrated an acceptable level of parenting skills and are therefore eligible to be considered for the child. It does not give them automatic right to the child. ‘When we see the Guardian next week we shall be asking to have Alice returned to us,’ Mrs Jones continued brightly, and I feared they were going to be very disappointed. But it wasn’t for me to explain: the social worker or Guardian should have done so already, and possibly had. In the same optimistic tone Mrs Jones then said she was thinking of buying Alice a bike for Christmas and what did I think.

  ‘That’s a lovely idea,’ I said. ‘We’ve got a bike here Alice uses, but having one of her own would be so much nicer. What a fantastic present. She’ll love it.’

  ‘Good. Martin and I will get it next week. We’ve a park near by which will be ideal for Alice learning to ride. I can’t wait to see her face when she unwraps it on Christmas morning.’ And my heart sank as I realized Mrs Jones was expecting Alice home for Christmas.