Playing Nice

by Delaney, JP

  In summary, I believe Theo would welcome the opportunity to be returned to his natural family on a permanent basis, and that is my recommendation to the court. Monthly access visits for Mr. Riley and Ms. Wilson should take place in a supervised contact center, to minimize the effects of interfamilial acrimony.

  Lyn Edwards

  Family Court Adviser

  88

  PETE

  THE COURT-APPROVED PSYCHOLOGIST CAME to see Theo at our house. Perhaps bizarrely, I couldn’t help liking the man. His name was Harvey Taylor and he arrived on a touring bike, which led to a discussion about frames and the best width of rim for coping with London potholes.

  “Right,” Harvey said at last, when I’d made him coffee. He looked around our small living space. “I need to assess Theo without you present, so I guess you’ll have to go out for an hour or so.”

  “Of course. I appreciate you’ve got a job to do, so I’ll let you get on with it. Is there anything you need?”

  He indicated his backpack. “It’s all here, thanks. Oh, and I have some checklists to go through with you when you get back.”

  I left the house and paced the streets, too anxious to go and sit in a café. It was strange to think that while I was out walking, Harvey and Theo were having a conversation that could decide our family’s future.

  After exactly an hour, I went back. Theo was playing with Duplo on the floor and Harvey was sitting at the kitchen table, writing notes.

  “Hi there,” he said when he saw me. “Would it be all right if Theo went upstairs for a bit? I’d rather do the checklists on our own.”

  “Of course. Theo, could you take your Duplo up to your bedroom? I’ll come and build something with you later.”

  When Theo was upstairs, Harvey said, “Before we start, can you tell me about these? I’m curious.” He indicated the star charts lining the walls.

  “Oh.” I explained about the parenting classes, and how I’d learned that some kids react better to reward systems than to punishments. “It’s made a massive difference,” I added.

  He nodded. “That fits with what I’m seeing—that Theo has a very particular learning style.”

  He pulled out a checklist. “Don’t be alarmed if some of these questions sound a bit strange. If another child was upset, would Theo try to help them, for example by giving them a toy?”

  I shook my head. “Almost certainly not. In fact, he doesn’t really like sharing toys.”

  Harvey made a note. “Does he like animals?”

  “It depends what you mean by ‘like,’ ” I said cautiously. “He enjoys them, certainly. But he tends to do a lot of poking and banging of them to see how they react.” There had been an embarrassing occasion when he’d been asked to leave the petting zoo after trying to swing a rabbit around by its ears.

  “What about keeping promises and commitments? Is he good at that?”

  I pointed at one of the star charts. “As you can see, he’s getting better. But it’s been a struggle.”

  There were a dozen more questions—“How responsive is he to affection? How anxious does he get? How fearful of getting hurt is he? Is he gentle with other children?” At the end Harvey put the checklist down and said, “Again, don’t be alarmed by what I’m about to tell you, but Theo almost certainly has what psychologists call CU traits. CU stands for ‘callous and unemotional.’ ” He studied my face. “You don’t seem very surprised.”

  “Is it hereditary?”

  “Ah.” Harvey nodded slowly as the implication of my question sank in. “It can be, yes. Except that, in adults, we would call it psychopathy.”

  “In that case,” I said, “I’m not surprised at all.” But then the ramifications of what he’d just said sank in on me. “And if it’s hereditary, it can’t be cured. Theo will grow up to be just like his father.”

  “Well, I haven’t met his father, so I can’t comment on that. But what I can say is that just because something is hereditary, it doesn’t mean the future is fixed. We think an underdevelopment of part of the brain called the amygdala may give certain children a disposition toward CU. But personality is malleable, particularly in the very young. A CU diagnosis may simply mean they need a particular kind of parenting to help them learn the human qualities the rest of us pick up without thinking.” He indicated the star charts. “You’re already doing a lot of it. Punishments mean nothing to kids with CU, but they’re very goal-oriented. So rewards are definitely the way to go. Oh, and time-outs don’t work—you can forget about the naughty step, for example.”

  “I’d already worked that out for myself,” I said with feeling.

  He nodded. “What can definitely help is what we call warm parenting—talking about feelings, displaying lots of emotion yourself, reinforcing any small signs of empathy or emotional literacy that Theo displays. Show him that emotions are good, even enriching, for the person having them. Show him that warmth and positivity and affection are the real measure of success.”

  “That is exactly what I try to do,” I said helplessly.

  “I’m sure it is.” Harvey started packing away his things.

  “But can you tell the court that? Can you say I’m a good parent?”

  Harvey looked at me sympathetically. “I don’t think you understand—that isn’t my remit. I’m simply here to assess whether or not Theo would be traumatized by the shock of changing families, if that’s what’s decided by the judge. And I’m afraid I’m going to have to tell the court that, like any kid with CU traits, he’d hardly bat an eyelid.”

  89

  PETE

  “OUR CHILD IS A psychopath,” I whispered.

  The words had been going around and around my head for so long, it was almost a relief to say them out loud.

  “No, he’s not,” Maddie said. “Children can’t be psychopaths. You told me that yourself.”

  That, at least, was true. Harvey Taylor had told me that a person couldn’t be diagnosed as a psychopath until they’d turned eighteen.

  “I have a horrible feeling that’s a technical distinction. He’s a psychopath in embryo form.”

  “But Theo’s got you,” Maddie persisted. “And you’re the very definition of a warm, involved parent.”

  As if on cue, Theo ran downstairs. “C’mon, Daddeee. Let’s go,” he announced, pulling at my hand. “Swings! Swings! Swings!”

  “Okay, Theo,” I said, standing up. “But give Mummy a hug first. Because mummies like hugs. It makes them feel happy.”

  “See?” Maddie said over Theo’s head as he hugged her. “You’re doing it already.”

  As Theo went in search of his coat and boots, she added, “I learned something interesting today, too. Annette said psychopaths love-bomb potential partners with attention while they’re trying to hook them, then lose interest once they’ve sealed the deal. It made me think.” She gestured in Theo’s direction. “What if that’s not just true of partners? After all, it’s what Miles did to us, in a way—showered us with attention, then switched it off. Maybe, without realizing it, it’s what he’s doing with Theo as well.”

  “Oh God.” The thought that, after all this, Miles would end up ignoring Theo if he got him just made the situation even more depressing. I could see a future in which Theo would only be able to engage Miles’s interest by bringing home an endless succession of sports trophies. And pretty soon that would become Theo’s whole attitude to life—that it was all about winning.

  “But it is not going to happen,” Maddie said firmly. “We are going to keep him.”

  I didn’t reply. I knew she only kept saying it to keep my spirits up, but it really wasn’t working.

  “Ready, Daddeee!” Theo announced, jumping up and down by the door.

  Maddie’s phone rang. I was going out the door as she answered it, so I only just heard her say, “Hang on, I’ll
get him.

  “It’s your lawyer,” she said as she handed me the phone. “The police want to see you again. Theo, wait,” she called after the figure already running down the pavement. “It’s me coming with you now, not Daddy. Just let me grab my coat.”

  90

  PETE

  “THERE’S GOOD NEWS AND not-so-good news for you, Pete,” DI Richards said. He slid a padded envelope across the table. “The good news is, that’s your phone. We’ve finished with it.”

  He waited for me to ask what the not-so-good news was. I shot my solicitor, Mark Cooper, a look, but he only shook his head slightly.

  DI Richards sighed. “The not-so-good news is that your laptop is now evidence in two ongoing investigations.” Again he paused, waiting for me to ask what the second investigation was, and again I said nothing.

  “On your laptop we found an image or images that appear to be in contravention of the Coroners and Justice Act 2009.” He paused again. “We’re talking about child pornography, Pete.”

  Hearing those words said out loud felt like the end of the world. I gaped at him, dumbfounded. My head swam and there was a ringing in my ears.

  “Do you have anything to say about that?” DI Richards asked sympathetically.

  “On the advice of my solicitor…” I couldn’t get the words out. The room rocked glassily before my eyes.

  DI Richards reached for a file and took out a plastic sleeve with something inside, which he slid across the table. “Specifically, this image,” he added.

  I stared at it. I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. “But it’s…it’s…”

  Mark touched my arm.

  “What you are showing my client is a cartoon drawing in the Japanese style known as manga,” he said. “It appears to be a pop-up advertisement with the words CLICK HERE on it.”

  “What I am showing your client,” DI Richards said reasonably, “is a sexualized image of a girl who is clearly under eighteen, since she is wearing a school uniform. This falls under the definition of a Category C nonphotographic indecent image of a minor, and it was found in the internet viewing cache of your client’s hard drive. As I’m sure you’re aware, the maximum penalty for possession of such images is three years in prison, along with a court order to comply with the notification requirements of the sex offenders’ register.”

  The sex offenders’ register. This was like a bad dream.

  “This is ridiculous,” Mark Cooper said patiently. “No jury is going to convict on the basis of one drawing.”

  “Possibly not,” DI Richards conceded. “Although convictions have been made for possession of cartoons in the past. I’d much rather talk about child abduction and insurance fraud, to be honest.”

  “Oh—so that’s it,” the solicitor said witheringly. “You’re attempting to blackmail my client into giving you a fuller interview on the child abduction charge.”

  DI Richards looked pained. “We take all offenses against children very seriously.”

  I put my head in my hands. I couldn’t believe this.

  “My client isn’t going to give you any fuller answers.”

  “Very well,” DI Richards said. “In that case, I will consult with my superiors and the CPS over what action they consider appropriate.” He put the image back in the folder and stood up. “Oh, and Pete. We have to liaise quite closely with CAFCASS in investigations like this, as you can imagine. If you change your mind, give me a call.”

  “What?” My head went up as the implications of what he was saying crashed in on me. “Wait. That’s not fair—”

  Mark touched my arm. “Not now, Pete.”

  “I’ll do the interview,” I said desperately. “I’ll do the bloody interview, all right? There is absolutely no reason to involve CAFCASS—”

  “He’s trying to wind you up,” Mark insisted. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Well, he’s succeeded. There’s no way I’m leaving—”

  “And there’s no way I’m letting you do an interview in this state. Even if I thought it was a good idea, which I don’t. We need to go.”

  DI Richards watched us leave. There was no cheeriness in his eyes at all now, just a look of cold calculation.

  91

  MADDIE

  WHEN MY PHONE RINGS I grab it, thinking it might be Pete, calling from his solicitor’s. But it isn’t.

  “Lyn Edwards here, CAFCASS,” Lyn says formally. Her Welsh lilt is more pronounced now. “I’m afraid we have to have a chat about these changed circumstances, Maddie.”

  “What changed circumstances?”

  “There’s been child pornography found on Pete’s computer.”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “There’s been what?”

  “An indecent image, as I understand it. The CPS will be considering. But my only concern in this is Theo, Maddie, and what it might mean for him. His safety is my responsibility, Maddie, do you see?”

  “I don’t believe it,” I say immediately. “I do not believe that Pete could possibly have been looking at child porn.”

  “Well, that’s as may be. But we have to err on the side of caution, Maddie, do you see?”

  “Are you saying you want him to move out again?” I say slowly.

  “No, Maddie, that’s not what I’m saying. Because, as your own solicitor pointed out, there are also now questions over your suitability to act as carer in Pete’s absence, aren’t there?”

  “That wasn’t what she—” I begin, but Lyn simply carries on speaking.

  “I’ve looked through the medical reports, Maddie, and frankly they’re quite disturbing. Theo found on the floor with—and there’s no nice way to say this, Maddie—feces all around him.”

  I feel myself go cold. “I was ill.”

  “That’s as may be, Maddie. But who’s to say you couldn’t become ill again? You’re not taking your medication, are you?”

  “Are you a doctor?”

  There’s a brief pause. I can almost picture Lyn’s sharp eyes narrowing.

  “I’m a qualified social worker, Maddie. We have to use our best judgment in situations like this. Though I have to tell you, I’ve also been sent a copy of what appears to be a newspaper article written by Peter, saying that the stress of finding out Theo isn’t yours has brought back some of your old symptoms. Would that not be correct, then, Maddie?”

  That bloody article again. I don’t reply.

  “We have to take all possible circumstances into account,” Lyn continues after a moment. “If that means taking sensible precautions, so be it.”

  “So if you’re not asking Pete to move out, what are you suggesting?” I say leadenly.

  “I think it’s best if Theo stays elsewhere for the time being, Maddie. If you would be so kind as to pack him an overnight bag, he can stay with Mr. and Mrs. Lambert until the hearing.”

  92

  PETE

  PACKING THAT SUITCASE WAS the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Compared with that, our time in the NICU was a doddle. Choosing clothes for Theo to take with him felt like choosing what he’d wear in his grave.

  And of course, we had to hide our misery from him. Cheerily, we told him he was going to spend a few nights at David’s house, in his new rocket bed, and wouldn’t that be fun?

  His eyes lit up. “Yeah!” he exclaimed.

  We both took him next morning. Just for a moment, as he walked up their steps, he turned and looked at us anxiously. Then he ran back and lifted his arms for a hug.

  We squeezed his little body so tight he said, “Ouff! You’re hurting!” Jill opened the door. We watched him go back up the steps and run inside. We handed her his suitcase.

  And just like that, our little boy was gone.

  * * *

  —

  AT NINE THIRTY I called Mark Cooper and told h
im I wanted to cooperate fully with the police. He started to say he strongly advised against it. I told him to arrange the interview and hung up.

  I saw DI Richards the same day and answered all his questions. At the end of the interview he confirmed that, although the investigation against me for child abduction would remain ongoing while they checked out what I’d told them, everything else would be dropped.

  “There, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” he added.

  Maddie phoned Lyn and demanded that Theo be allowed to come home now. Lyn said she thought that, on balance, Theo should remain at the Lamberts’ “to see how he settles.”

  “I must say, he does seem very happy there, Maddie. And really, that’s everyone’s main concern in this situation, isn’t it? What’s best for Theo, do you see? As his primary carers for the last two years, I’m sure you and Pete must want that for him, too, in the end.”

  93

  PETE

  THE DAYS TICKED DOWN toward the hearing. We dug in. That’s the only way I can describe it—as if we were underground, enduring, waiting for the bombardment to finish so we could emerge, blinking and shell-shocked, into the real world again.

  But all the time, there was a huge, Theo-shaped gap in our hearts. The house seemed very still and quiet. It was like being inside something broken, like a stopped clock.

  And I had a horrible feeling that, when all this was over, we wouldn’t be emerging into the same world we’d left. If we lost Theo for good, everything would be smashed, including us. Without us even really noticing it, he had become our raison d’être, the point around which our relationship circled.

  Not for the first time, I found myself wishing that Maddie hadn’t always been so set against marriage. Anything, however intangible, that bound us to each other would have been a help. But now it was hard to see how we could possibly survive as a couple if we lost him. Like parents who split up in the aftermath of a child’s death, because the grief would only be survivable with someone who didn’t feel the same pain as you, whose agony didn’t reflect yours every time you looked into their eyes.