by Angela Hart
‘Well, I like marmalade, actually. I make jams and marmalades sometimes. Mum has a lot of blackberries and gooseberries growing in her garden. At the right time of year, I often make them into jam. Maybe we could all do that together?’
‘Gooseberries? Are those the things that look like grapes that have been to the gym?’
I laughed and told her I thought that was a pretty good description, because the gooseberries Mum grew were the large, veined variety.
‘You’re a clever girl, Danielle,’ I said. ‘A lot of people wouldn’t know what gooseberries looked like, let alone come out with a description like that!’
‘Well, Granny used to make gooseberry crumble. She did rhubarb too. She was a bit like your mum, actually. She loved to grow stuff and she was good at baking.’
‘Granny as in Granny and Pops, your first foster carers?’
‘Yes. What other granny is there?’
Danielle then furrowed her brow and stepped right in front of me, eyeballing me at such close quarters I could feel her breath on my face as she spoke.
‘If you had to choose between throwing all the jam in the world or all the marmalade in the world into a lake, which would you choose, Angela?’
‘Neither,’ I said, backing away. ‘I’d prefer to swim in the lake. Would you like to swim in a lake full of marmalade?’
Danielle looked at me suspiciously. I’d had so many nonsense conversations with her by now that I’d sought advice on the issue from a behaviour expert who gave a timely talk at one of the regular training sessions Jonathan and I attended. The expert taught me the technique I’d just employed: don’t bother trying to make sense of it but talk nonsense back instead. She explained that often children who try to reel you into nonsense talks are often simply seeking attention or attachment. If you give them attention in a way that suits you instead of playing their game – which can be infuriating – it’s a less frustrating situation.
‘Now then, won’t it be lovely to see Hatty? Have you been to that wildlife park before? I have. It’s one of my favourites. Mind you, Jonathan is not so sure. He got a flat tyre in the car park once and by the time we got it repaired it had started to go dark. We could hear the monkeys calling to each other as night fell. I thought it was quite magical, but Jonathan was a bit spooked, I think!’
‘Are you laughing at Jonathan?’ Danielle said defensively, taking a step closer to me again. ‘Are you taking the mickey?’
‘Of course not! I’m just telling you a little story.’
I felt quite exhausted at the end of our strange conversation, and when Hatty turned up to take her out I thought what a relief it was going to be to have some peace and quiet for a few hours.
The trip to the wildlife park was a success, and after dropping Danielle home Hatty promised to ring me at a certain time the following day, when we’d be able to talk in private.
To my surprise, when the phone rang at the agreed time it was not Hatty, but Susan calling.
‘Can you come to a review meeting?’ she asked.
‘Yes, of course, when were you thinking of?’
Susan suggested a couple of dates the following week and we agreed on the first available one, when we’d be able to bring Danielle along too, to take part in some of the meeting. This is normal procedure, so the social workers can ask the child directly how they feel the placement is going, and ask their opinion on possible future plans. Normally the review meeting takes place at six months so this was happening earlier than expected, but I didn’t query this: nothing about Danielle’s placement had been predictable, and of course we had to discuss the pressing issue of Danielle’s education. I was about to ask Susan if a boarding place had indeed been found, but she cut to the chase first.
‘I’ll get straight to the point, Angela, to give you and Jonathan time to think. There are no schools or boarding schools willing or able to take Danielle. We’d like to discuss whether you would be willing to commit to having Danielle for a further six months, and we’d like to ask Danielle how she would feel about this too. There’s a possibility we might be able to get her an extra hour of tutoring, and we’ll be able to keep up the contact with Deirdre, the family-aid worker, too.’
‘I see. I’ll have to discuss this with Jonathan, of course, but my initial reaction is that I feel this is certainly something we can consider, and would like to do. The extra tuition would be helpful, and the support from Deirdre is crucial, but let me talk to Jonathan first.’
Susan said she would pop round and see Danielle before the review meeting.
The phone rang again five minutes later, and this time it was Hatty.
‘I really appreciate all you’re doing for Danielle,’ I told her. ‘She had a fantastic day with you yesterday at the wildlife park. I’ve been hearing all about it.’
‘I enjoyed myself too,’ Hatty said. ‘I think you’re doing a remarkable job, Angela. And Danielle clearly adores Jonathan. She did nothing but sing his praises.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I think she’s got quite a soft spot for him, to tell the truth.’ I trusted Hatty and respected her opinion, and I found myself adding, ‘I’m keeping an eye on that, to be honest.’
Hatty listened carefully as I explained how Danielle behaved around Jonathan sometimes. ‘It’s verging on the flirtatious, on occasion,’ I said. ‘Jonathan can handle it and is well aware he needs to keep himself safe, but it’s not ideal, of course.’
‘I see, and I’m sure you know, Angela, it’s also important how you handle it. I’m not a psychologist, but perhaps Danielle’s behaving that way primarily to get to you. I’ve heard of scenarios like this before and have some experience of them from dealing with other children. It’s something to bear in mind, perhaps. If you want to look it up, sometimes it’s referred to as “triangulation”, when a child puts herself in the triangle and attempts to play one carer or parent off against another.’
This rang true, and I had heard of that term before. In fact, I wondered why I hadn’t immediately thought of this myself, and I cast my mind back to a workshop I’d attended a few years earlier that touched on this type of issue.
The trainer had talked about a girl he called a ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ character, who not only clearly favoured her male carer, but also targeted all of her defiance and abuse exclusively at the female carer. He explained that this might happen when a foster child wants to feel powerful at the expense of one particular adult. Though they probably don’t realise why they are doing this, it’s likely to be because the child feels weak and lacking in self-confidence. By trying to belittle one of their carers, they are attempting to boost their own sense of self-importance. This typically happens in families where the child can spot that the parents or carers are not in allegiance, though that was most definitely not the case with Jonathan and me. Danielle had expressed frustration several times at how Jonathan and I always had the same reaction or answer, even if we hadn’t had a chance to talk to one another. Several children over the years have asked us if we are telepathic, as we never fail to be on the same wavelength when it comes to making decisions about the children in our care.
There was another possible theory that had crossed my mind: Danielle perhaps favoured Jonathan simply because she craved the attention of a father figure. Did she have Jonathan on a pedestal, not in any sexual way, but as an inspirational role model? I shared this latter thought with Hatty.
‘That’s also a very good thought,’ she said. ‘You could be right; it would certainly fit, given how she was treated by her own father.’
Hatty had made it clear she was happy to share any information she had that might be useful and helpful, and I was grateful she’d made time for us to talk freely like this.
‘We know Danielle was sexually abused,’ I said. ‘Is there any more you can tell me?’
‘Yes, she was abused by her father and also by a group of men known to her father. He and some of his associates are now serving long sentences in prison.’
‘She’s a very damaged young lady. The abuse may have started at home from when she was as young as three years old, and didn’t come to light until she was five and taken into care. Her mother had abandoned her, and it appears the abuse most probably began when her father was left to bring Danielle up on his own. Then he involved other men, when she was four, I believe.’
‘Poor Danielle,’ I said. ‘It’s so heartbreaking to hear this, Hatty.’
‘Indeed, absolutely devastating. When I first met Danielle, she was described to me by a person in a very senior role at Social Services as one of the most damaged children she had ever come across in her thirty-year career. That was about eight years ago, when she first joined my school. Danielle has made some very good progress since then, but of course damage is lasting, in many regards. I think it might be a good idea if you meet the Smiths. They can give you more information than me, and have a lot more experience of looking after her than anyone else. She was with them for about five years, until she was ten.’
‘Ten? So what happened in between leaving the Smiths and going to live with Glennis and Mike, earlier this year?’
‘Danielle was in a children’s home, but that didn’t go well. She was so badly behaved that several of the other children threatened to run away if she wasn’t removed.’
‘Goodness. What a shame she couldn’t have stayed with the Smiths.’
It turned out Hatty had been very busy since she returned from her holiday. She’d been in contact with Granny and Pops – aka Iris and Kenneth Smith – and they had expressed their dismay at how they were cut adrift by Glennis and Mike. They also made it very clear to Hatty that they did not want to lose contact with Danielle, and they said they were glad Glennis and Mike were now off the scene. Iris and Kenneth wanted Jonathan and me to get in touch with them, so they could re-establish links with Danielle.
‘I still don’t know what went wrong with Glennis and Mike,’ Hatty said, perhaps pre-empting another of the many questions I had. ‘I know the disruption meeting has taken place now, so perhaps Susan might be in a position to shed some more light there. I’m going to speak to her.’
A disruption meeting is a kind of debrief that is held after a placement has broken down. Jonathan and I had never had to attend one so I wasn’t entirely sure how much information would come out of it, or how much useful detail, if any, might be shared with us. I made a note of everything I’d heard from Hatty, and the next time I spoke to Nelson I made sure he was fully in the picture too and asked him to keep me updated with any news.
Before this telephone conversation, I’d wondered how Hatty had managed to give Danielle the impressive amount of support she had done for so many years. Hatty was clearly an extremely busy woman, and I was bowled over at how much time and energy she put into her relationship with Danielle, considering she had only been her head teacher for a short period of time, many years earlier, when Danielle was at the start of her primary education. Jonathan and I have kept in touch with many of the children we’ve cared for over the years and some are just like family now, but even so it’s not always easy to find the time to have reunions, let alone to arrange regular day trips and visits as Hatty had done with Danielle for so long.
Now I’d heard how damaged Danielle was, things were starting to make more sense to me. Danielle was a very special little girl, a child who deserved a stalwart of the community like Hatty to go the extra mile for her. The reason behind this – the appalling sexual abuse Danielle had suffered – chilled me to the core.
I asked Hatty if she’d expelled Danielle from her school.
‘No, why would you ask that?’
‘It’s something that Danielle said to me, but I hadn’t seen it in the notes so I did wonder if it was true or if she’d got muddled up.’
‘No, it’s not true at all. She moved so she could attend a school nearer where her foster carers lived at the time.’
At the end of our conversation Hatty gave me a phone number for Iris and Kenneth.
‘They’re expecting you to call,’ Hatty said. ‘They’re lovely people and they have Danielle’s best interests at heart. I have suggested to them that they should also share whatever information they feel may be helpful to you in looking after Danielle.’
11
‘I’m glad you’re sitting down’
Iris and Kenneth lived in a bungalow on a tidy housing development for the over-sixties. It wasn’t quite sheltered accommodation, but there was a duty warden in case of emergency and the complex had clearly been designed with wheelchair access in mind, as in place of steps there were ramps lined with sturdy metal handrails leading to each white-painted front door.
‘Come round the back!’ a cheerful female voice called when we knocked on the front door.
Jonathan opened the side gate and we went through to the small but extremely pretty garden, where Iris and Kenneth were sitting comfortably on a swing chair. Danielle was out for the afternoon with Deirdre, and we’d fixed up the visit at this time deliberately, so we could talk in private to her first set of foster carers.
‘What a beautiful spot!’ Jonathan exclaimed as the couple made to stand up. I was thinking the same myself. The garden was a lovely little suntrap, filled with the scent of lavender. ‘Oh no, please don’t get up!’ I said. ‘Shall we sit ourselves here?’
I gestured towards a bench in the shade of a tree, next to the swing chair.
‘Please do,’ Iris said. ‘It’s lovely to meet you at last.’ Kenneth smiled and also said he’d been looking forward to meeting us.
Iris was wearing a floral apron that was fastened tightly around her curvy figure, and she had her grey hair pinned in a loose bun. She looked kind and welcoming; the sort of woman I imagined I could easily sit and chat to for hours on end. Kenneth made a good first impression on me too, looking friendly and very grandad-like. He was dressed in a checked shirt, beige shorts and thick-rimmed tortoise-shell glasses, and, judging from his deep tan and the fact there was an extremely large pair of gardening gloves on the table – big enough for Kenneth’s spade-like hands – I reckoned he was a keen gardener.
Jonathan picked up on this too.
‘I’m guessing you’re green-fingered, Kenneth?’ Jonathan said, looking around and remarking on how lovely the roses were.
‘Oh yes, I love being out here. Love it!’ Kenneth practically sang. ‘We struck gold when we got this place.’
‘Your garden really is fabulous,’ I said, because it was. There were pots brimming with colourful flowers everywhere, and ornamental windmills and wind chimes were blowing in the breeze. The garden felt like a little oasis of calm and contentment, in fact. There were butterflies fluttering around, and bees and insects were creating a friendly buzz in the air.
‘He cheats a bit though, don’t you, dear?’ Iris teased, looking at her husband cheekily.
She then tipped her head towards a particularly eye-popping display of violet and crimson flowers in a window box under their kitchen window.
‘Those ones aren’t real,’ Iris said in a stage whisper.
We all laughed, and Iris told us to make ourselves at home while she fetched a pot of tea.
While his wife was gone Kenneth told us that he and Iris had fostered children for fifteen years. Danielle was the last child they fostered, and they had to give up because of his poor health. Kenneth explained he had a complicated set of age-related problems, including a serious eye condition. ‘I won’t bore you with the details or we’d be here all day. Terrible thing, getting old!’
He then said that when he was given his last diagnosis, the couple decided it was time to move to the bungalow and stop fostering. ‘If things were different we’d have loved to look after Danielle for longer. We love her to pieces. But really, there’s no two ways about it. We’re past it now. I hate to admit that, but it’s true. I know she’s better off with a couple of
spring lambs like you two!’
Jonathan and I laughed politely. Not only were we both already in our fifties, but also Danielle was proving to be one of the most challenging children we had ever cared for and, in all honesty, we had our doubts about whether or not we were the best carers for the job.
Iris reappeared, setting down a tray lined with a cream-coloured plastic doily and stacked with the tea and a selection of biscuits on a china plate.
‘I expect you have a lot of questions,’ she said. ‘I know I did, when I first got to know Danielle.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Danielle first came to us as an emergency placement a couple of months ago and we’ve just been asked if she can stay with us for another six months, and we’re going to agree to that, aren’t we?’
I looked at Jonathan. Even though we knew what a huge challenge it would be, we had both decided we wanted to keep Danielle with us – if she was in agreement, of course.
‘Yes. We feel we’re making progress with her. She’s not the easiest child we’ve ever looked after though, as I’m sure you two can appreciate.’
Iris nodded and gave an understanding smile.
‘I know, bless her. Shall I tell you what we know about her background?’
‘Yes please. I think it will be useful, and of course you can talk to us in strict confidence.’
‘OK. I’m glad you’re sitting down.’
Jonathan and I swapped glances.
I will never forget the conversation that followed. It was like time stood still as Iris spoke in her kind and gentle voice. For all I knew the butterflies were suspended midflight, the windmills stopped spinning and the chimes fell silent. That’s how it felt: the world itself might have stopped turning. As I listened to what Iris had to say I gasped, sucking in a breath that seemed to have turned to mud in my lungs, because suddenly I couldn’t exhale or speak or even move.
