Girl Alone: Joss came home from school to discover her father’s suicide. Angry and hurting, she’s out of control.

by Cathy Glass

  At breakfast Adrian naturally asked after Joss and if she was hurt. I said she’d been badly assaulted and was obviously shaken, but I didn’t go into details. If Joss wanted to tell him, Lucy, Paula or anyone else more about it then that would be her decision.

  Paula returned promptly at ten o’clock, tired from the sleepover but having had fun. She and Adrian were ready when John arrived shortly after 10.30, and I greeted him as I usually did with a polite good morning. Whenever Paula went out with her father she always wanted an extra hug and kiss goodbye from me. When she’d been very young and hadn’t understood the implications of divorce, she’d asked if I could go out with them, which had broken my heart and made me hate John even more for leaving us. Now time had passed and we’d all adjusted to the arrangements, so I gave her that extra hug and kiss and wished them a nice day out.

  Once I’d seen them off, and while Joss slept, I set about some household chores. Just before midday Lucy telephoned and asked if she could stay a bit longer at her friend’s house, as her parents had invited her for lunch. They’d told her to check with me that it was all right and said they’d bring her home between three and four that afternoon. I said it was fine with me as long as it was all right with them, and reminded Lucy to thank them.

  A few minutes later I heard Joss’s bedroom door open and I immediately went upstairs.

  ‘Are you all right, love?’ I asked, meeting her on the landing.

  ‘I’m going to have a long bath,’ she said.

  ‘That sounds good. Do you need anything?’

  ‘Could you bring me up a glass of water?’

  ‘Of course. Anything else? Are you hungry?’

  ‘Yes, but I’ll have my bath first.’

  I thought it was a good sign that Joss was up and having a bath. I fetched the glass of water and then left her in the bathroom. She was in the bath for nearly an hour; I heard the water drain and then the bath refill. I understood she was probably trying to wash away the ‘dirt’ from yesterday and cleanse herself of the dreadful experience. It was a pity she couldn’t wash away the horrendous memory as well. While Joss was in the bath, Jill telephoned to see how she was. I told her she hadn’t got back until 4 a.m., had gone straight to bed and was now in the bath. I said that Linda had been very upset and was concerned about Joss’s statement.

  ‘Hopefully the police have enough to prosecute,’ Jill said. ‘Joss is going to need a lot of support.’

  ‘I know. Linda’s coming back later to see her.’

  ‘Good. I’ll speak to Amelia tomorrow, but if you have any concerns or need to speak to one of us today, call the usual number. I’m not on duty, but one of the team will help you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I thought it was kind of Jill and a sign of her dedication as a support social worker that she’d telephoned on Sunday, her day off.

  When Joss came down after her bath, having also washed her hair, she did look a bit fresher. I told her that her mother was planning on coming over later and I asked her what she’d like to eat. She said her stomach was rumbling, as she hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon, so I set about making her a cooked breakfast – brunch, really – and then sat at the table with her to keep her company while she ate. But as I sipped my coffee and made light conversation, I could feel the horror of what had happened the day before sitting between us like an unacknowledged wall, until I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

  ‘Joss, I won’t keep mentioning what happened, but if you want to talk, any time, day or night, you know I’m here to listen, and I’ll do what I can to help.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ she said. ‘There is one thing.’

  ‘Yes?’ I asked, and set down my coffee.

  ‘Will I get my clothes back from the police?’

  ‘I don’t know, but you’ve got plenty and we can always buy some more.’

  ‘But those were my best jeans,’ she said.

  ‘We’ll replace them,’ I said without hesitation. And I thought it was another good sign that the old Joss who loved her clothes was still in there somewhere.

  Shortly after we’d finished at the table, when Joss was in her room, Linda telephoned and said she was planning to visit in about half an hour, if that was all right with me. I said it was, and told her that Joss was up and dressed and had had a bath and something to eat.

  Linda said, ‘So it sounds like Joss is recovering quickly. See you soon.’

  I went upstairs and told Joss her mother was on her way, but she pulled a face, the old hostility towards her mother returning.

  ‘What’s she coming here for?’ she grumbled. ‘There’s no need.’

  ‘Your mother is very worried about you,’ I said. ‘You were pleased to see her last night.’

  ‘That was different,’ Joss said.

  I was disappointed. I had hoped that the bond I’d seen between Joss and her mother last night would continue, although I could see why it hadn’t. Last night, after that brutal attack, Joss was a scared and frightened child again, in need of her mother’s love and comfort. Now she was feeling a bit better, her guard was back up.

  ‘Be nice to your mother,’ I said. ‘She was very upset last night – we all were.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Joss said dismissively, and turned away.

  I didn’t feel able to tell her off, given what she’d been through, so I said, ‘I’ll call you when she arrives,’ and came out.

  Five minutes later the grey, overcast skies that had threatened rain finally delivered as promised, and it began to pour down. Toscha shot in through the cat flap, hating the feel of water on her fur, then sat in the living room staring out through the patio doors with her tail lashing, annoyed that she couldn’t go outside and catch more crane flies, which were abundant at this time of year. I wondered where John, Adrian and Paula would go in the rain; to the cinema or the leisure centre possibly – that’s where they often went when the weather was bad. By the time Linda arrived the storm was peaking; thunder crashed overhead and lightning flashed on the horizon.

  ‘What a day!’ she exclaimed, closing her umbrella and leaving it in the porch. ‘I could hardly see out of the windscreen.’

  I thought Linda seemed much brighter now and far more composed.

  ‘Did you manage to get some sleep?’ I asked as she took off her coat and I hung it on the coat stand.

  ‘A little, and Eric and I have had a good chat, which helped a lot.’

  ‘That’s good. I’ll tell Joss you’re here. She’s in her bedroom.’

  ‘Cathy,’ Linda said, lowering her voice and placing her hand on my arm to stop me. ‘Could I speak with you first, please, alone? There’s something I need to tell you before I see Joss.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ I said, wondering what it was. ‘Let’s go into the living room.’

  I switched on the light, as the storm had made the room dark. Rain was sheeting against the window and Toscha was trying to dab the rivulets of water through the glass. Linda sat on the sofa and I took the chair, just as we had in the early hours, and I waited to hear what she wanted to tell me. After a moment she leaned forward slightly and looked at me carefully.

  ‘Eric and I have been talking, going over everything Joss claimed happened last night, and I’m sorry to say we’ve come to the conclusion that she’s made it all up.’

  I stared at her, shocked. ‘No, that’s not possible. Not the attack?’

  Linda nodded solemnly. ‘Yes, all of it.’

  ‘But why?’ I asked, amazed.

  ‘For attention,’ Linda said.

  ‘No. I’m sure you’re wrong. Joss wouldn’t do that.’

  ‘It wouldn’t have occurred to me either if Eric hadn’t said it, but then it made perfect sense. Think about it, Cathy. There are no witnesses. It’s only Joss’s word against theirs. Chelsea was conveniently ill. Joss has been doing all she can to get attention, but we’re not shocked any more by her bad behaviour, and you’ve been coping with it. So she needed to stage something really dramatic t
o get attention, and it doesn’t get more dramatic than crying rape.’

  I stared at her, my mouth dry, my heart racing from shock. ‘But you saw how distraught Joss was last night after the attack. She couldn’t have made it up. And there were bruises on her face.’

  ‘They could have come from anywhere. Perhaps she fell over or got in a fight. Don’t kid yourself; Joss is very good at theatricals. She says she’d like to be an actress when she’s older. Look at all the lies she’s told us in the past. You, me, her social worker and teachers have all been taken in.’

  ‘But the police believe her,’ I said, my thoughts reeling. ‘They are taking it seriously. And Joss was examined by a doctor. That should help prove she’s telling the truth.’

  ‘The doctor couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me anything yesterday other than she’d taken some swabs and they’d be sent to the lab for testing. Eric and I are sure the results will come back negative or inconclusive, so there won’t be any evidence. The guys involved will deny it and back each other up, so there won’t be a prosecution. You wait and see. I bet we’re right.’

  I was stunned. What Linda was saying was to some extent plausible, but I still couldn’t believe that Joss would make it all up. ‘So you really think Joss is lying?’ I asked incredulously.

  ‘Yes, we do,’ Linda said.

  Joss must have been outside the door and heard what her mother had said, for she now burst into the room.

  ‘He would say that, wouldn’t he!’ she shouted, eyes blazing, advancing towards her mother. ‘You believe everything that fucking idiot tells you!’

  For a moment I thought she was going to hit her mother, and I was on my feet. ‘Joss!’ I said firmly, taking her arm. ‘Calm down and sit down. We can talk.’

  ‘I’m done with talking to her,’ Joss yelled, jabbing a finger towards her mother. ‘She always takes his side. It’s his fucking fault it happened. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him!’

  With her fists clenched and her face white with rage, Joss turned and stormed out of the room.

  ‘Joss!’ I called, going after her.

  ‘I’m going to my room,’ she yelled. ‘Tell me when she’s gone. They can both go to hell!’ She began upstairs.

  At that moment the front door opened as Lucy let herself in, having returned from her friend’s sleepover. ‘Hi,’ she said, smiling. And then, seeing Joss, ‘Oh no. Not again,’ she sighed, her face clouding.

  ‘I’m sorry, love,’ I said. ‘Joss is upset and her mother is in the living room.’ Joss’s bedroom door slammed shut overhead.

  ‘We’ll catch up later,’ Lucy said. I would normally have spent time with her hearing about the sleepover. ‘I’ll unpack. Do you want me to look in on Joss?’

  ‘Yes, please. Thank you, love,’ I said gratefully.

  As Lucy went upstairs I returned to the living room, thankful I had such an understanding family.

  ‘See what I mean?’ Linda said. ‘Joss loves a good scene.’

  ‘But I can understand why she’s upset,’ I said, sitting on the sofa. ‘The last time she saw you, you were sympathetic and supportive, and now you and Eric are accusing her of lying.’

  ‘Well, she is,’ Linda persisted. ‘And she’s angry with me because I’ve seen through her lies.’

  I still wasn’t convinced. ‘You may be right,’ I said despondently. ‘But until the police prove differently I think we need to believe Joss. Can you imagine what it would do to her if she is telling the truth, and she’s had the courage to report the attack, and we didn’t believe her?’

  This wasn’t what Linda wanted to hear. ‘Well, that’s up to you,’ she said tartly. ‘But I agree with Eric, and tomorrow we’re going to phone the social worker and the police and tell them the truth.’

  ‘But we don’t know what the truth is,’ I said. ‘There’s no real evidence to say Joss has made it all up.’

  ‘There’s no evidence to say she hasn’t,’ Linda said. ‘But when the police start investigating, Joss’s story won’t stack up.’

  I didn’t want to antagonize her by disagreeing further, so I chose my words carefully. ‘I’ve been fostering for a long time and in my experience children usually tell the truth. I know some do make up allegations, but the majority do not. So until there is firm evidence to the contrary, I have to believe Joss and support her as best I can.’

  ‘That’s up to you,’ she said, and stood ready to leave.

  ‘If you stay a while longer, I could try to persuade Joss to come down and we could all talk about it,’ I said.

  ‘I don’t think that will help,’ Linda replied tersely, and she took a step towards the living-room door. ‘And to be honest, Cathy, I’ve had enough of all this. Joss and her lies. I’m exhausted and sick of it all.’

  She went down the hall and pulled her coat from the stand. ‘Tell Joss I said goodbye,’ she said. ‘And for all our sakes, try to persuade her to tell the truth.’

  I opened the front door and we said an awkward goodbye. The rain had stopped now, but the sky was inky black, suggesting that another downpour wasn’t far away. I closed the door. My heart was heavy and my thoughts were in chaos. While I could appreciate what Linda had said about Joss lying in the past and her theatrical outbursts, I couldn’t make the huge leap that she and Eric had to decide Joss was lying about this.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alone

  I went up to Joss’s room, where Lucy and Joss were sitting side by side on the bed.

  ‘Her mother called her a liar!’ Lucy exclaimed indignantly, taking up the fight for Joss. ‘Can you believe it? How mean is that? Your own mother calling you a liar!’

  I looked at Joss. ‘How are you?’

  ‘OK,’ she said quietly, her anger largely gone.

  ‘If I told you something like that,’ Lucy continued, ‘you’d believe me, wouldn’t you?’

  I nodded but didn’t say anything. Lucy meant well, but I didn’t think criticizing Joss’s mother was going to help. She was, after all, her mother, and Lucy seemed to have forgotten how loyal she was to her own birth mother despite all her failings.

  ‘Your mum is very upset right now,’ I said to Joss. ‘She’s also exhausted. When she’s had time to think clearly I’m sure she’ll feel differently.’

  ‘Not if he has anything to do with it,’ Joss said, her anger flashing again.

  ‘Her stepfather sounds horrible,’ Lucy commiserated. ‘Pity your mother ever married him.’

  ‘It was,’ Joss agreed.

  ‘Perhaps they’ll get divorced,’ Lucy suggested.

  ‘I doubt it,’ Joss said.

  I could see that the girls were comfortable talking together and Joss didn’t really need my input right now. Sometimes a similar-aged young person can offer the empathy and words of understanding that an older adult cannot.

  ‘If you two are all right, I’ll go downstairs.’

  ‘Sure,’ Joss said easily.

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ Lucy said.

  ‘And you had a good time at your friend’s?’ I asked Lucy.

  ‘Yeah, great.’

  I left them and went down to the kitchen. As I worked it crossed my mind that perhaps I should telephone Homefinders’ out-of-hours service to report and discuss what Linda had said, but Jill wouldn’t be on duty. Although I could have talked to another member of the Homefinders team, it wasn’t an emergency so I decided to wait until the following day, Monday, when Jill would be at work again. Jill knew Joss and I greatly valued her opinion. It was at times like these that I very much missed the support and views of a partner. Couples who foster can support each other and discuss their worries and concerns, but as a single carer I bore it all. I was deeply troubled by Linda’s abrupt turnaround and that she had withdrawn her support for her daughter. It had only been a matter of hours since she’d sat on my sofa and, believing Joss to have been viciously attacked, had broken down. Then, as a result of listening to Eric, she’d completely changed her mind and now
thought her daughter was lying. But then again, I supposed Eric wouldn’t have suggested Joss was lying unless he had genuinely believed it. What a mess.

  About half an hour later I heard the girls’ voices on the landing and I went up to make sure they were all right. They’d changed rooms, and Joss was now sitting on Lucy’s bed while Lucy unpacked her overnight bag. She could have stayed for a week for all the clothes she’d taken to her friend’s, most of which were now being consigned for the laundry, despite just needing an iron.

  ‘Are you OK?’ I asked Joss. She seemed to be.

  She nodded and managed a small smile. So, reminding them again that I was downstairs if they needed me, I left them to it.

  John brought Adrian and Paula home shortly after five o’clock and they said goodbye at the door. They’d been to the cinema. Everyone did their own thing until dinner was ready, and then I called them to the table. Although Joss had confided to Lucy what had happened, she hadn’t told Adrian or Paula, so the conversation over dinner was reasonably light-hearted and general, which wasn’t a bad thing. Joss would obviously be suffering inside, but she was coping with it in her own way, and I didn’t think she needed glum faces and endless sympathy. When we’d finished eating Paula suggested a game of Monopoly, as we were all home, and everyone liked the idea. We hastily cleared away the dishes and dumped them in the sink, and then set up the Monopoly board on the table.

  The competition is always fierce when we play Monopoly – we play to win; even Paula and me, who aren’t normally competitive. There’s just something about that game! It wasn’t long before our voices had risen in excitement and good-humoured arguments had broken out over ownership deals and land development. I seemed to spend a lot of time in jail while Adrian was busy acquiring older sites. Paula’s pile of money grew from developing Park Lane and Mayfair; Lucy reaped a steady return from the utilities, and Joss from owning Regent Street to Bond Street. We had a break at nine o’clock and I made some snacks and poured us some lemonade. The game resumed and the excitement grew as fortunes were made and lost. Although I was tired from lack of sleep the night before, it was put on hold until we finally finished the game at 10.30, with Adrian the outright winner.