by Glass, Cathy
‘How are you, son?’ she said, ignoring me. It didn’t take great insight to realize she was cold-shouldering me today.
‘Have a nice time,’ I said. ‘See you later.’ And I left. It was their contact time and there was no requirement for Minty to speak or acknowledge me beyond courtesy.
When Aisha returned Tayo at just gone six, she had been instructed by Minty to tell me that Tayo smelt and to ask why I wasn’t letting him have a shower.
‘Of course he showers,’ I said to Aisha as she stood on the doorstep. Tayo was inside hanging up his coat. ‘Every day. And he wears deodorant. He doesn’t smell.’
‘I know,’ Aisha said apologetically. ‘But I have to pass it on.’
If parents complain about the care of their child, the person supervising contact usually notes it and mentions it to the carer, acting as go-between. It’s an awkward role – they have to be objective while at the same time establishing a good working relationship with parents, so that the child doesn’t sense any hostility in the atmosphere during contact.
‘And Minty didn’t bring in any food,’ Aisha continued. ‘So Tayo’s only had biscuits and a drink. She said she didn’t have any money for food.’
‘Did Tayo hear that?’ I asked.
Aisha nodded.
‘That’s a pity, I’m trying to help him let go of responsibility for his mother. Now he’ll be even more worried.’
‘I’ll keep an eye on it next time. Sandra told me about the money he gave to his mother.’
‘Has he given her any this time?’ It didn’t seem likely but I thought I should check.
‘No. Only a cake he had in his school bag. He said it was from lunch. It was rather squashed.’
‘Did she eat it?’
‘No.’
‘OK, thanks Aisha. I’ll try and persuade Tayo not to feel that he has to find food for his mum. He’s got football tomorrow. That’ll take his mind off it for a while, at least.’
Saturday football repeated the success of the previous week, and when we made the contact phone call to Minty that evening, Tayo managed to tell her a bit about it before she began a diatribe of abuse. This time it was against her most recent landlord who, according to Minty, had thrown her out without reason or warning after three days. She was shouting down the phone so I could hear most of what she said despite Tayo having the phone pressed to his ear.
‘I haven’t got the fucking money. I told the bastard I’d have him. Bloody sex pervert. Who the hell does he think he is?’
It was always someone else’s fault, never Minty’s.
After a few minutes of this, Tayo sank lower and lower in his seat, weighed down with his mother’s problems. When I took the phone from him, he didn’t resist.
‘Minty,’ I said, over the noise of her tirade. ‘Minty. Minty, it’s Cathy.’
Eventually she realized Tayo had gone and I was on the line. ‘Yes? What do you want?’ she demanded.
‘Minty, Tayo doesn’t need to hear all this, can you please talk about something—’
‘Get the fuck off the line, you fucking cow! You’ve got my fucking son!’
‘Minty,’ I tried again, but there was only a stream of more abuse, so I hung up.
Tayo looked at me in awe.
‘Sorry, Tayo,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t a good phone call and you don’t have to listen to that.’
‘You’re brave,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t dare do that.’
I suddenly realized that although he’d cared for his mother and looked out for her he was also scared of her. That wasn’t surprising – dealing with Minty made me, with all my adult outlook, confidence and experience, feel very uncomfortable. Her volatile, unpredictable and hostile nature made her difficult to be around. It was impossible to know what Minty would do next.
On Sunday I took Adrian back to university and Tayo came along for the ride. He enjoyed the journey and the experience of seeing where Adrian studied.
‘I’m going there,’ he announced on the way home, impressed and excited by what he’d seen.
‘I’m sure you could if you work hard. But there are lots of different universities, and you have to choose one that best suits the subjects you want to study. Adrian goes there because it has a good reputation for engineering which is what he wants to do. Nottingham, on the other hand, is very good for law.’
‘I’ll go to Nottingham then,’ Tayo said. ‘I want to study law.’
‘Do you? I thought you wanted to be a scientist.’
He thought for a moment. ‘No. I think law would be more useful, then I can change everything that’s wrong in the world.’
‘That’s a lovely thought, Tayo,’ I said, glancing in the rearview mirror. ‘I wish it were that easy.’
‘I can’t do it on my own,’ he conceded. ‘But if everyone makes a little bit of a difference then it will produce a big change over all, won’t it?’
I smiled at him in the rear-view mirror. ‘I wish more people thought like you. I think that’s a philosophy we could all do well to live by. The world’s always a better place when people try to do their best for others.’
The coming week would make me realize the truth of that more than ever.
Chapter Fifteen
Threats
‘Cathy,’ Tayo said at breakfast the following morning. ‘What will happen to me?’
I took my coffee and sat opposite him at the table. The girls weren’t down yet so it was just the two of us. ‘Do you mean about being in care?’
‘Yes. I don’t think I’ll be going back to Mum, will I?’
‘It’s early days yet, love, we don’t know and we won’t know yet for a little while. You’ll stay here till then.’
He took a bite of toast and thought while he ate it. ‘I don’t want to live with Mum.’
‘All right. The judge will bear that in mind when he makes his decision.’
‘I don’t want to stay in foster care either,’ he said.
My heart sank. This was more difficult. For the moment, he didn’t have any choice. ‘It’s nothing to be embarrassed about; lots of children are in care. And it’s far too early to start worrying about it. Try not to look too far ahead.’
He gazed at me. ‘I want to go and live with my dad and gran.’
‘I understand, sweet. But you lived with them a long time ago, and situations change. The memories you have may not be what things are like now.’
‘If my dad knew I was in foster care, he’d come and find me. He’d be furious,’ he said solemnly.
‘Would he, love?’ I felt so sorry for Tayo. It was difficult sometimes for a child to adjust to being in care, particularly an intelligent and thoughtful child like Tayo. Like many children before him, he had built up unrealistic expectations and ideas of an absent parent, seeing him or her as a knight in shining armour, ready to rescue them in a second as soon there was the opportunity. In reality, Tayo had left Nigeria five years ago and neither his father nor his paternal grandmother had contacted him. I didn’t want to sound harsh but neither could I let him build up his hopes, only to have them quashed.
I said carefully, ‘I’ve told Sandra everything you’ve told me about your father and where you lived, but there isn’t enough to trace him. There’s no way we can track him down with so little information. And you’ve got to consider the possibility that even if he was found, his life might have changed in the last five years – he might be married with a family and it might not be possible for him to look after you. Once you’re an adult, it’s different – you can go looking for him if you want. But at the moment, the judge will say you must be looked after while you’re a child. If your mum can’t do that, you might be in long-term foster care.’
‘What – stay here?’ he asked.
‘Well no, not necessarily. If we get to the point where it looks as though Mum isn’t able to look after you, then the Social Services will hold what’s called a Family Finders meeting. They’ll think about the best place for you. It migh
t be that they decide this is the best place for you, and your stay becomes what’s known as permanency, like Lucy’s. Or they might decide you’d be better looked after in a different sort of family, maybe one with two parents so you’d have a father.’
‘I’ve got a father already,’ he said adamantly.
‘Yes, I know, love, a natural father. But wouldn’t it be nice to have someone there all the time, someone who could play football with you, and do all the things that fathers and sons do?’ This touched a raw nerve with me. That kind of relationship was something Adrian had missed out on, even though he’d seen his father once a month.
Tayo shrugged despondently and pushed his toast away. ‘I don’t want another father, I want my own.’
‘Look, love, you’ve only been in care a short while and we’ve got a long way to go yet. Lots of things can happen, but it’s not going to help worrying about them. Trust me. I’ve seen plenty of children go through this and it all works out in the end.’ I kept to myself the thought that while every situation was always resolved, it wasn’t always as the children wanted – sadly, children aren’t always right about what is best for them. ‘Please, Tayo, try not to worry. There are lots of people working with you on this. We all want to see you happy.’
He edged his plate towards him and began eating again. ‘But they are trying to find my dad, aren’t they?’
‘Yes.’ It wasn’t exactly a lie – Sandra had tried her best but with nothing more to go on, the search was at a dead end. What else could I say to him? ‘In the meantime, let’s take it a day at a time, and enjoy the little things in life. Time goes so quickly, before you know it, it will be Easter, and I’m hoping we’ll all go away for a short holiday.’
‘Really?’ His eyes finally lit up. ‘Where? Africa?’
‘No.’ I smiled. ‘I can’t afford that, although it would be nice. Have you ever heard of CenterParcs?’
‘Yes. Sam went there for New Year.’
‘Did he? Well that’s a coincidence. So you know all about it.’ I hadn’t intended saying anything yet but I’d booked us all in for a five-day break, and if it helped Tayo feel better, he could know now.
‘Can I have a bike there?’ he asked, excitement sparking in his eyes.
‘Of course. We all will.’
‘And go swimming, and bowling, and everything else they do?’
‘Absolutely! And that’s something you can look forward to when you’re feeling down, isn’t it?’
He nodded, grinning.
I knew I’d have to get Sandra’s permission nearer the time to take Tayo, and that she’d have to ask Minty as technically they were both legally responsible for Tayo. I couldn’t see a problem though; social workers appreciate foster children taking full advantage of any new experiences, and his mother was hardly likely to object to her son being taken on an all-expenses-paid holiday, was she?
The house was quiet with everyone at school, and I was wondering if I should try my hand at another Italian recipe after the success of the last one, when the phone rang.
I went through to the lounge and answered it. ‘Hello?’
There was silence.
‘Hello?’ I tried again.
More silence. The line was open, someone was on the other end. ‘Hello? Who is it? Is someone there? If there is, I can’t hear you.’
Nothing. So I hung up.
I pressed 1471 but the caller had withheld their number. Nothing unusual in that, many people keep their telephone number private to stop canvassing calls from companies. I had a permanent block on my number coming up because of the contact phone calls the foster children made.
I waited by the phone for a moment in case someone was having difficulty getting through, in which case they would probably try again straightaway. They didn’t, so I returned to the kitchen and the recipe book I’d left open on the table. I’d hardly got back when the phone started ringing again; I hurried back.
‘Hello?’
Nothing, but the line was open.
‘Hello?’ There was still no answer, so I hung up. Before I had reached the kitchen, it rang again.
‘Yes?’ I said, snatching it up as I got to it.
‘Mrs Glass?’ It was a deep male voice with a heavy East End accent.
‘Speaking.’
He cleared his throat. ‘You have Minty’s son.’ It was said as a statement rather than a question although he waited for a reply. I wasn’t about to divulge details to a stranger.
‘Who is this?’ I asked.
He ignored my question. ‘This is a warning,’ he said. ‘If you know what’s good for you, you’d better do as I say. Do not make up lies about Minty, you’ll be sorry if you do. She has friends and we know where you live. You have a nice family, keep it that way. Make sure Tayo goes back to her.’
Before I could say anything he’d hung up.
I sat down heavily on the sofa and slowly replaced the receiver. My heart was pounding and I suddenly felt cold. What he’d said didn’t need any explanation – he was clearly threatening me and my family. You have a nice family. How did he know? Were he and Minty watching us? But how did they get the address? It was surely too early in the proceedings for Social Services to have sent documents to Minty, which was how in the past parents had sometimes acquired my address when they weren’t supposed to. Apart from that, Sandra didn’t have an address for Minty to send documents to. Perhaps this thug didn’t know where we lived and it was a bluff to frighten me. But – I turned even colder – he knew my telephone number. How had he got that?
My stomach tightened and my throat went dry as my usual calm demeanour vanished. At contact, Minty had threatened me with her ‘friends’; I’d brushed it off as bravado but she had clearly kept her word.
My mind raced as I started to think through all the ramifications of this threat. As well as the immediate worry about the safety of my family and myself, there were dire implications for Tayo. If Minty knew the address, then there was a good chance Sandra would want to remove Tayo and place him with other carers, which would be terrible for his stability. He’d had so many moves in the past, the last thing he needed was to be uprooted again.
With all these thoughts chasing round in my head, I picked up the phone and dialled Sandra’s extension. Fortunately she was at her desk and I quickly explained what had happened.
Sandra, normally so calm and contained, swore. Then said, ‘That’s all we need. Are you sure your telephone number doesn’t show up when you dial out?’
‘Positive. I’ve got a permanent block on it. Check on your phone display.’
‘Yes, you’re right, it’s anonymous,’ she said. ‘So how the hell have they got it?’
‘I take it my contact details couldn’t have gone out on paperwork from your end?’
‘No documents have left the office, apart from the ICO and that certainly didn’t have your address on it. Anyway, I still haven’t got an address for Minty. Remind me who placed Tayo?’
‘Brian Williams,’ I said.
‘I doubt he’s let it slip but I’ll check. Hold the line, Cathy, his manager is across the office.’
I waited as the phone was put down. It was Brian who had originally told me Minty wouldn’t be given the address of where Tayo was staying, but with the best will in the world, mistakes happen, especially with all the endless chasing around that goes on in these cases.
‘Cathy?’ Sandra said returning to the phone.
‘Yes?’
‘Binta is certain Brian knew not to give it out.’
‘So how’s it happened?’ I asked lamely.
Sandra paused and then asked, ‘I’ve just thought, is your telephone number on any of your phones?’
‘No.’
‘Not even handwritten on those little bits of plastic-covered cardboard?’
‘No. I’ve never used them and we haven’t got digital display phones.’
‘It’s just the only person I can think of who might have given Minty the
number is Tayo. Do you think he found it somewhere and told her?’
I thought. ‘It’s possible, I suppose. But why would he want to do that?’
‘I’ve no idea. I’m just trying to think how it’s happened.’
I tried to think of a time and place when Tayo could have had access to my telephone number. ‘I really don’t know, Sandra, we’re pretty careful. My children know our contact details mustn’t be given out.’
‘I think we need to have a chat with Tayo and see if he knows anything about it. This is serious. Are you collecting him from school at the normal time this afternoon?’
‘Yes. Three-fifteen.’
‘Can I come to you at four then?’
‘Yes, of course.’ I was pleased Sandra was treating the matter so seriously and as a priority. When my address had been inadvertently divulged before, the social worker had had a very cavalier attitude, and said the parents probably wouldn’t turn up and if they did I was to send them away.
‘Don’t say anything to Tayo about why I’m coming,’ Sandra added. ‘I don’t want him to be on his guard. We’ve seen how smart he can be at bending the truth, so if he is responsible, the less time he has to invent something, the better.’
‘No problem. I won’t say a word.’
‘And, Cathy, I’m sure what the man said was just an idle threat, but be careful for now. Mum has lived underground for a long time and doubtless knows plenty of undesirables – these so-called friends of hers.’
‘Yes, I was thinking the same thing.’
‘I’ll see you at four then. And I’m so sorry this has happened.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ I said. ‘Thanks for everything, Sandra. See you later.’
I’d lost enthusiasm for cooking an Italian meal, so I took something out of the freezer instead. I checked the back door was locked and then went to the front room where I looked out of the bay windows, up and down the street.
If that man had my address then he could be watching right now. I had to take this very seriously. I’d had threats before from emotional parents at contact and meetings, but they’d been the vague ‘you’d better watch out’ kind of warnings with no real substance or intention, and there’d always been a social worker or a security guard present. This was different. I had no idea who this man was, except that he sounded like exactly the kind of person Minty could have associated with.
