by Rosie Lewis
He threw one hand up in the air, fingers clawed. ‘Oh, why can’t you just leave me alone?’
I held my hands up. ‘Okay, but I’m around if you need to talk.’
I closed the door quietly and went downstairs, cursing myself for approaching him too quickly. If I’d left him alone a bit longer, he might have opened up and confided in me.
He was still in his room an hour later. I could hear him throwing something rhythmically at the wall as I read Megan her bedtime story. When I’d finished reading she took her hearing aid out and set it carefully in the box on her bedside cabinet. She glanced up at me from the pillow, a little grin on her face. ‘I’m good with my n’aid now, aren’t I, Mummy?’
‘You’re very clever, sweetie. I’m very proud of you.’
She sat up and threw her arms around my neck. ‘Love you, Mummy.’
‘I love you too, sweetheart. Night night, sleep tight.’ I planted a kiss on her forehead, switched her night light on and flicked the main light switch off. She rolled onto her side and gave me a sleepy smile, her eyes already twitching.
I was about to go downstairs when Archie emerged from his room. ‘I forgot to say thanks for the dinner, Rosie. It was really nice.’
‘Thank you, Archie,’ I said lightly. ‘But you didn’t eat much of it.’
‘I said I liked it,’ he said, with a ferocious undertone.
‘Good. You can have a sandwich or something before you got to bed, if you’re hungry?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m going to bed now.’
‘Okay. Would you like to talk first?’
He looked at me hesitantly, then shook his head.
‘Okay, honey. Don’t forget to brush your teeth. I’ll come and say goodnight soon.’
Downstairs, Bobbi was still in the living room. I could hear her chattering to herself from the hall. It was time for her to get ready for bed but I hesitated before making the announcement, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I told myself I was being ridiculous – she was only five years old – but I was very tired. The thought of another violent confrontation was setting my nerves on edge.
I took a breath and ventured behind enemy lines into the anticipated combat zone. ‘Right, Bobbi. Your turn to get ready for bed now.’ In anticipation of a refusal, I had set a sand timer next to the television before taking Megan up to bed, warning Bobbi that she only had fifteen minutes until she had to get ready herself. She was bouncing over the sofa when I reached the living room, adverts playing on the TV behind her. ‘Come on, honey, let’s go up and get ready.’
She continued bouncing as if I hadn’t spoken so I switched the TV off and went to the door. Her head shot round. ‘I was watching that!’
‘Your programme has finished, Bobbi. And look at the timer. All the sand has gone. That means it’s time for bed.’
She sat still, watching me. ‘Tell you what,’ I said, summoning my most tantalising tone. ‘Race me upstairs.’ It was a challenge Jamie could never resist as a young boy, but I had tried several versions on Bobbi over the last week and all of them had failed. I leaned towards the door, one leg out as if on a starting block, and then I shouted, ‘Ready, steady, go!’
To my surprise, she leapt off the sofa and charged past me into the hall. I made a thing of trying to catch up, theatrically panting and puffing behind her. ‘I don’t believe it,’ I gasped noisily at the top of the stairs. ‘You’re so fast!’ She grinned, skipping off towards the bathroom. I waited on the landing for a second, puzzling over her willingness to respond to some of my requests, while digging her heels in on others.
The next thing I knew, she was clinging to the towel rail and screaming her head off. I ran to her. ‘Bobbi, what’s happened?’ Worried that she might burn herself, I ran my hand over the rail. It was warm, but not hot. I crouched down in front of her but she tried to bite me, all the while clinging to the bar with the strength of an animal in fear for its life. I couldn’t make it out.
Then again, I reminded myself that she might have been subjected to all sorts of triggers as she made her way up the stairs, ones that I knew nothing about.
‘I’ll be back in a moment,’ I said, rushing off to my room. I returned with a weighted blanket and draped it over her shoulders. ‘I’m going to sit with you until you calm down,’ I said soothingly, kneeling behind her and rubbing her back firmly through the bulky covering. Weighted blankets are quilts filled with pellets that stimulate pressure points in the body and encourage the release of the calming hormone, serotonin.
Bobbi quietened almost immediately, although she continued to cling to the rail for another minute or so. When she finally relaxed her grip I pulled her onto my lap and she slumped back in my arms.
By half past eight, I was exhausted. I still had to clear away the dinner things, type up my daily diary and get the wet clothes out of the machine, but my eyes were stinging and my head felt like a soggy sponge. I couldn’t wait to get everything done so that I could climb upstairs and sink into bed.
Chapter Nine
Three days later, on Friday 9 January, I dropped Megan at nursery and Bobbi at school, then drove to the local authority council offices, where the LAC Review was due to be held. Archie sat with a composed expression in the back of the car, though his eyes seemed darker than usual, and his hands tap danced in his lap.
To put him at ease I chattered on about the Harry Potter film we’d watched together the previous night, but if I’m honest, I was feeling a bit nervous myself. The first meeting with birth parents is often a daunting prospect for foster carers. Foster carers are sometimes regarded as usurpers by birth parents, and so a degree of resentment is perhaps inevitable. It’s a sentiment I understand. I also appreciate that having your failings as a parent picked over in the presence of a stranger is a humiliating experience. Reactions can vary and, if ever there’s a time for keeping a low profile, the first LAC Review is it.
Most parents soften their view when they realise that their children are being well looked after, although there are exceptions. Complaints from birth parents about scuffs on shoes, too much ear wax and the ‘wrong nappies’ are commonplace when fostering. I once had a birth mother who was oblivious to the irony of complaining about the way I’d fixed her daughter’s ponytail, when the cigarette burns she had inflicted on the little girl’s skin had barely healed.
Apart from the scant information Danny had given me, I had no idea what Archie’s birth mother was like. I tried not to make any assumptions but from the children’s behaviour I got the impression that they were used to taking care of themselves. No matter how abusive they may have been, most children frequently ask to see their parents when they first come into care. Apart from a few fretful questions about Mummy around bedtimes, Bobbi had shown little interest in seeing her – a clue, perhaps, to her absence in their lives, even back when they were all living together.
Archie seemed concerned about how Tanya was, but when I broke the news yesterday that she had cancelled their first contact session because she wasn’t feeling well, he hadn’t seemed surprised, or particularly upset. ‘I hope she feels better soon,’ he’d said flatly, but nothing more after that.
Running late, I was pleased to find a space in the civic offices’ car park. The lift was out of order so we hurried up the stairs, Archie taking the last flight two steps at a time. I could hear Danny’s booming laughter as soon as we left the stairwell of the second floor. Archie and I exchanged glances. ‘He’s so loud,’ he said, grinning.
When I gave the door of the meeting room a quick tap the laughter dried up. ‘Come in,’ came Danny’s deep voice. Inside, the social worker was seated on the far side of a twelve-seater long conference table. He was leaning back in a chair, hands linked behind his head. ‘It is you, Rosie,’ he said, beckoning us in with a friendly wave. ‘Hi, Archie, come in. I’m so pleased you felt able to come, mate. Would you like a drink before we start? Some squash or something?’
‘No, thank you,’ Archie said
politely, moving closer to my side.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, glancing from Danny to the white-haired gentleman sitting beside him. I lifted the long strap of my handbag over my head, took off my coat and piled everything onto one of the empty chairs in front of me. ‘I had a few problems getting Bobbi into class this morning. I’ll sit here on the end shall I? In the naughty chair?’
Danny boomed another laugh and Archie grinned. ‘Yep, and we won’t be giving you any stickers at the end of the session either. Ain’t that right, Archie?’ Archie grinned again and sat down next to me on the chair I’d pulled out for him. ‘This is Geoff Parsons, by the way, the IRO.’
I leaned over the table and shook his hand. ‘Hello, Geoff.’
Archie did the same. Geoff’s white moustache curled upwards with his smile. ‘Well done for coming today, young man. It’s always pleasing to hear how things are going from young people themselves. How are you getting on at Rosie’s?’
‘Terrible,’ Archie answered sullenly.
I gasped in surprise and turned sharply, realising as I did so that his eyes were twinkling. ‘Oh, you!’ I tapped his arm. ‘You really had me for a second.’
He smirked.
‘Ah, we have a bit of a joker on our hands, I see,’ Geoff said.
‘Seems so,’ I said with a laugh.
‘Right,’ Geoff continued. ‘I suggest we make a start.’ He turned to Archie, his voice gentle. ‘We haven’t heard from your mother yet, Archie, and we’ve had a report from school about how you’re getting on but I don’t think any of your teachers were able to attend today. We can recap if anyone –’ Geoff stopped in mid-sentence as the door behind me flew open and crashed into the back of my chair.
‘Oops, sorry,’ I blurted out automatically, shuffling forwards and twisting around in my seat. My apology wasn’t returned by the tall, slimly built man behind. Slightly breathless from climbing the stairs, he grasped the back of my chair. His head was directly above mine and I could smell his breath; a roux of cigarette smoke and something tangy, like peppermint. As discreetly as I could, I eased forward in my chair. For a second I assumed that he was lost and had blundered into the wrong room, but then I caught the look of recognition on Archie’s face.
Danny stood up, all traces of his earlier amusement gone. ‘You are –?’ he said, ushering the man away from my chair with a sweep of his hand.
I felt the brush of knuckles as the man moved past me into the room. ‘Here for the meeting,’ he answered bluntly.
‘I meant,’ Danny said, moving around the table towards him, ‘who are you?’
‘Jason Keane, his step-dad.’ He nodded towards Archie and then, ignoring Danny’s obvious objection to his presence, seated himself at the end of the table, a few seats away us. There was no further interaction between him and Archie. It was as if two strangers had been plucked from the street and deposited in the same room without so much as an introduction.
Somewhere in his forties and smartly dressed in a shirt and suede jacket, Jason wasn’t at all what I had expected Tanya’s partner to look like. There was nothing directly unappealing about him – one of his eyelids was heavily hooded and he had a cleft chin and thin lips, but his eyes were clear and blue. Somehow, though, his appearance set my teeth on edge. Danny was looking at him keenly but Jason kept his eyes averted, smoothing a hand over his closely cut, greying hair.
‘I’m afraid you’re not invited, mate,’ Danny said, in a tone that was far from friendly. ‘You’ll have to wait outside.’
At that moment the door behind me opened again, gentler this time. An attractive woman in her early- to mid-thirties stood at the threshold of the room, a sparkly-backed mobile phone in her hand. ‘He’s with me,’ she said, her eyes flicking from Danny to Jason. ‘I want him to stay.’ There was something Disney about her tone; her voice affected and slightly babyish.
Danny hesitated for a moment then inclined his head grimly. ‘Okay. But you should have mentioned before now that you were bringing someone along, Tanya. This is an invitation-only meeting.’
‘I’m hardly someone,’ Jason pointed out with disdain. ‘I’m the lad’s step-dad and Tanya’s partner.’
‘I wasn’t aware the two of you were married,’ Danny snapped.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t call you, Danny,’ Tanya squeaked behind me. ‘I wasn’t feeling well yesterday and …’
The social worker jerked his head. ‘Come on then, get yourself in and let’s get on with it.’
As Tanya closed the door I caught the scent of her heavy perfume. Archie turned as she passed and looked up at her. She air-kissed the top of his head. ‘Hi, babe,’ she trilled, then tottered on to the end of the table. When she reached Jason she shrugged her coat off and draped it over the back of the chair next to his. My skin bristled. She hadn’t seen Archie for nearly two weeks – it must have been hurtful for him to see her walking past him to sit next to someone else. Archie stared straight ahead, apparently unmoved, but I felt irritated on his behalf.
Geoff watched the pair with quiet interest as they arranged their phones side by side on the table in front of them and intertwined their hands. He then proceeded to explain the purpose of the meeting and asked everyone to introduce themselves.
When it came to Jason’s turn to address the meeting he introduced both himself and Tanya and then tilted his head silently towards her handbag. She let go of his hand and fumbled inside, withdrawing a packet of mints, which she passed to him.
Danny shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, presumably to ask Tanya to introduce herself, but Geoff nodded graciously and the moment passed. He looked at Archie. ‘So, the way this works, Archie, is that we’ll have a chat with you first, and then we’ll ask you to step outside while we talk through some grown-up things. That okay?’
Archie nodded sombrely.
‘Good. As you know, you were taken into care on 29 December because we were concerned that your mother and Jason might not be keeping you safe.’ Archie glanced at his mother, who was making goo-goo eyes at Jason, then lowered his own gaze to the table. ‘Do you feel able to tell us anything about the night you came into care, Archie?’
His cheeks flushed and he shuffled in his seat before shaking his head. My heart went out to him. It was hard enough for a child to speak out in front of a room full of adults, however much confidence they appeared to have. To speak about distressing events in the presence of a neglectful, possibly abusive, parent was a very tall order indeed.
‘No, that’s fine. I just wanted to offer you the opportunity.’ Geoff went on to explain the process of evidence and information gathering, and asked Archie again about life in the Lewis household.
‘I like it at Rosie’s,’ he said, and then launched straight into talking about Jamie’s skills with a football and their sessions in the back garden. ‘And in the evening me and Rosie play cards. Though last night me, her and Emily watched Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone,’ he said with a smile, which faded quickly when his mother turned to look at him.
Geoff scribbled away on the pad in front of him, minute-taking as Archie spoke. He looked up intermittently, smiling, nodding and making encouraging noises. ‘And has Rosie given you the leaflet with the helpline numbers you can call if you’re worried about anything, and don’t feel you can talk to her?’
Archie nodded. It was one of the first items that foster carers were supposed to give to new arrivals, along with a toothbrush and some clean towels. ‘Excellent,’ Geoff said, smiling at me. ‘It sounds like Rosie and her family have made you very welcome,’ he added, with a pointed look in Tanya’s direction. ‘Now, do you have any questions for any of us before you step outside?’ Archie looked thoughtful. I wondered whether he was trying to pluck up the courage to ask about his dad. He glanced towards his mother and Jason, then gave me a beseeching look. I nodded at him to let him know that I’d understood. ‘Okay. Well, it was lovely to meet you, Archie. Well done again for coming. We know it’s not
easy.’
Danny got up then and moved to the door. ‘Do you wanna say goodbye to your mum, Arch? Then I’ll take you along to the office.’
Archie stood and walked over to his mother. She let go of Jason’s hand and half stood up to give him a hug. ‘Love you, babe,’ she said in a babyish voice, planting a lipstick-coated kiss on his cheek. She made an L shape with her forefinger and thumb and held it to her ear. ‘Call me, yeah?’
‘See you at contact, okay?’ Jason said, although he must have known that it was unlikely he’d be allowed to attend. He reached around Tanya and clapped Archie on the back. ‘We’ll have you home soon, son,’ he said, telling Archie not to worry, but to my ears his words sounded more threatening than reassuring.
Jason fiddled with his phone while we waited for Danny to return, Tanya fawning and stroking his head. When the social worker came back, Geoff asked me to give everyone an idea of our family’s day-to-day routine. I started to speak, aware that Jason was looking me up and down. I tried my best not to let his scrutiny get to me and explained how the children were settling in. ‘Archie’s been fairly quiet,’ I said, wondering whether to express my unease around him. I quickly decided against it. How could I find the words to explain it when I wasn’t even sure why I felt that way myself? Tanya studied me briefly as I spoke then returned her attention to her partner. ‘Bobbi’s most definitely been making her presence felt,’ I summed up with a smile.
Danny grinned. Jason tore into the packet of mints. ‘Can you expand on that a bit, Rosie?’ Geoff asked.
‘Erm, well, she’s a little uncooperative at times,’ I said, chuckling inwardly at the understatement. I avoided any mention of ADHD, using the alternative code word ‘active’ instead. ‘She’s also funny and bright,’ I continued, not only because it was true, but also because her mother was sitting just a few seats away from me. It was important for Tanya to know that her daughter was staying with someone who appreciated how very special she was, in spite of her difficulties. I scanned my mind for some other positives. ‘And she’s got great stamina,’ I added, remembering her most recent monumental meltdown.
