by Glass, Cathy
‘And don’t let the bed bugs bite.’ He grinned, then added, ‘Cathy, the next time I say that will be to my gran in Nigeria.’
‘Not your dad tomorrow night?’ I asked.
He shook his head. ‘No, it’s a woman’s thing.’
I smiled and left him to sleep.
It was just as well we had done the packing on Thursday evening because Friday flew by. We went into school at nine-thirty and Roberta de la Haye came to take us through to Tayo’s classroom. She interrupted the lesson to make the announcement that Tayo was going to live in Nigeria. Tayo and I stood at the front of the class while they all clapped and cheered, and I realized that not only Sam but the whole class, and particularly his teacher Mrs Gillings, had been rooting for Tayo.
Tayo thanked them all and said he would miss them, then added a special ‘miss you’ to Sam and thanked him for being a good friend. He shouted a final ‘Goodbye!’ and we left the classroom to the sound of more rapturous applause. I wondered how long it would take Mrs Gillings to settle them down and resume the lesson.
Back at home, I made a sandwich lunch and Sandra arrived.
‘All packed?’ she asked, joking, and was surprised to find we were.
‘I’ve got three massive cases,’ Tayo said proudly. ‘And a back pack.’
‘I hope Mr Ondura doesn’t mind paying the excess,’ I said.
‘Shouldn’t think it’s a problem,’ Sandra said wryly. ‘And it’s important Tayo takes everything with him, it’s part of his life here.’
She had spoken to Mr Ondura and knew he had changed the flight and was collecting Tayo at five. ‘Before you leave, Tayo, I want you to phone your mum to say goodbye.’ She glanced at me and I nodded. I knew how important it was. ‘I know you’re not happy with her at present,’ Sandra continued, ‘but everything has worked out as you wanted and you can’t leave without saying goodbye. If she doesn’t answer you can leave a message.’
Tayo agreed.
‘Also,’ Sandra went on, ‘in the court order the judge has said you can phone your mum once a month. Your father has agreed to this, and also if your mother returns to Nigeria and wants to see you, your dad will make the arrangements.’
Tayo opened his mouth to protest.
‘It will be supervised contact, Tayo,’ Sandra said. ‘There’s no way your mother can snatch you now, anyway. You’re far too big and streetwise.’
Tayo grinned.
Sandra then wished him all the best for the future and said she would be staying in touch with him for the first six months, which was normal when a looked-after child went to live abroad, and was also part of the judge’s order.
‘Cool,’ Tayo said.
‘And I know Cathy will want to hear from you, even if it’s just to say you’re OK.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Tayo said. ‘And she’s going to come and visit me, aren’t you, Cathy?’
‘You never know,’ I said. ‘I just might.’
Sandra gave Tayo a present of a game for his gameboy and a leaving card. Tayo gave her a big hug. Then she and I walked down the hall together to the front door.
‘Tayo couldn’t have had a better social worker,’ I said, and I meant it. ‘You’ve been excellent.’
She smiled, almost embarrassed. ‘Thank you, too, Cathy. Your hard work has been brilliant. Tayo was very lucky to end up with you.’
‘I’m glad he did.’
Tayo came down for a final hug on the doorstep and we watched as she got into her car, and waved her off.
‘It’s sad saying goodbye to everyone,’ Tayo said.
‘I know, love, but after this evening it will all be all hellos, and won’t that be good?’
But I was aware that the most difficult goodbye was looming and I thought now would be a good time to make the call to Minty. She never answered her mobile so the timing of the call didn’t really matter. I told Tayo we would phone his mother as Sandra had asked, and we went through to the lounge. Sitting side by side on the sofa, like we had done so many times before, I keyed in the number to Minty’s mobile and listened as the voicemail message cut in.
‘Minty,’ I said. ‘It’s Cathy. I hope you’re well. Tayo would like to say goodbye as he’ll be leaving soon.’
I passed the phone to Tayo and he took it slowly to his ear. His voice was flat and emotionless as he said, ‘Goodbye, Mum. I wish things could have been different. I love you.’
* * *
With the packing done, Tayo and I spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden, Tayo listening to his MP3 and the music Paula had downloaded for him while I pulled up a few weeds, more to keep busy than anything. I made Tayo a snack at four o’clock because he was having his dinner later with his father at the hotel.
Lucy and Paula returned home from school and college and chatted to Tayo until just before five when I called them into the house. We brought Tayo’s cases down and stacked them in the hall. Just as we’d finished, right on cue, the doorbell rang, and Mr Ondura stood on the doorstep with the biggest, most lavish bouquet of flowers I’d ever seen. The gift card attached said, Thank you for looking after Tayo.
‘They’re beautiful, thank you so much!’ I said.
‘The very least I could do,’ Mr Ondura replied, kissing my cheek.
He and Tayo loaded the bags into the waiting taxi while we waited in the hall.
‘Well, this is it then,’ I said, as they returned to say goodbye. A lump had come into my throat but I didn’t want to cry. I wanted Tayo to remember me smiling and waving him off at the door. It was hard, though. He’d been a member of my family now for ten months and with all the ups and downs we had formed a strong bond in that time. Farewells were never easy but somehow knowing how far away he was going and how different his life was going to be made saying goodbye to Tayo all the more difficult.
Mr Ondura nodded and looked far from composed himself. I could see Tayo’s bottom lip trembling and I knew Lucy and Paula were about to burst into tears. The girls and I took it in turns to hug Tayo and then shook hands with Mr Ondura.
He kissed my cheek, thanked me again and said he’d phone as soon as they were home. We watched them get into the taxi and Tayo wound down his window. ‘Thanks for everything,’ he shouted. ‘Love and miss you.’
They pulled slowly away with Tayo’s arm waving from the open window. Once they were out of sight we walked slowly into the house and closed the door. There was emptiness, an immediate feeling of something, or rather someone, missing and I knew the girls felt it too. Even when a child leaves in such positive circumstances as Tayo had done, returning to his family to start a new life, we, the foster family, had lost a family member, and it hurt.
The loss would continue until the next child arrived, and we started all over again.
Epilogue
Tayo and his father phoned the evening they arrived home, and have continued to phone every couple of months during the year that has elapsed since Tayo went. He has settled well into his new life and has made friends at school and at the clubs he attends: football, rugby, cricket, archery and swimming. As promised, he sent us lots of photos, of his house (which looks like a mansion), the swimming pool in the garden, him in his bedroom on his computer, his gran, his dad, and his dad’s partner, Renee, who Tayo really likes. Mr Ondura is planning to marry Renee next year and Tayo tells me he will be an usher in the church, which is a very important role as he will have to give out hymn sheets and show guest to their seats. Tayo also tells me that he is hoping for a baby brother or sister, though he hasn’t told his dad yet.
There were a few teething problems to begin with when Tayo, not used to his father’s strict but loving parenting, tried to play off his gran against his dad by asking her for something when his dad had said no. However, Tayo soon came to realize that far from getting him what he wanted, the attempted manipulation only served to strengthen his father’s resolve.
Tayo phones his mother once a month but has only managed to speak to her twice. She
is still in England and, as far as anyone knows, she is living the life she has always lived here, on her wits, underground, and beyond the reach of the authorities. Sandra told me that the Home Office made no attempt to detain and question her, let alone deport her, although they knew she would be at court for the final hearing. I wonder what her life will become and I can’t imagine there will be any improvement unless she can take herself in hand and get off the drink and drugs. But as she wasn’t able to do this when she had the chance to win back Tayo, sadly there is now even less reason.
We haven’t visited Tayo and his family yet, though that’s not to say we won’t. Adrian is planning on taking a gap year after he finishes university and before he starts work, and has said he will definitely include Nigeria (and Tayo, of course) in his world travels. I would love to go to see Tayo and Nigeria and so would the girls, but it will depend largely on time and money, and also Peter, who is talking about us all going on holiday together.
For me, I carry on with a busy and rewarding life, looking after my ever-changing family. I’ve witnessed many stories in the course of my fostering career, but none has ended as happily as that of Tayo, and the father who didn’t stop looking for his little boy until he found him. Perhaps it shows that love can truly win out in the end. I hope so.
* * *
Two months after Tayo left us, I attended a training course dealing with child protection and first heard that there are estimated to be as many as one million children living in the UK who are unregistered, and therefore unknown and unprotected by our society. It is a staggering number and many of them will be living in circumstances similar to or far worse than Tayo’s. Often they only come to our attention when they make news headlines and sometimes then it’s too late.
Tayo was fortunate – enough people raised concerns about him to allow the Social Services to act. So often in our society, we feel that other people and other children are none of our business and we don’t like to interfere. Sometimes we assume that Social Services must already know about the situation and are taking care of it. But they can’t act if they don’t know these children exist.
The Children Act 2004 set up provision for every detail of every child in the UK to be recorded on a central database, with all professionals being able to access it. If it had existed earlier, it might have given a vital lead in finding out where Tayo had been. It is a contentious project, but it could help many children like Tayo. Even if a child is ‘hidden’ and here illegally, he or she is likely to appear on record at some point. If they went to school for one day, or attended a doctor or a hospital, the details would be recorded. Under the present system, agencies work together but children can and do slip through the net, sometimes with horrendous results.
Tayo was one of the lucky ones, but I can’t help wondering – how many other ‘hidden’ children are out there now?
Author’s Note
People often ask why I foster, particularly given the challenging behaviour of some of the children I look after. It is about making a difference. If, in some small way, I can improve a child’s life, and help them come to terms with their past experiences and therefore hopefully have a better future, then the rewards are immeasurable.
My first book, Damaged, received an incredible reaction from the public. I was moved and very touched by the number of people who emailed and wrote to me, some because they were profoundly affected by Jodie’s story and others because they had experienced something similar in their lives. I include here a small number of the many messages I received after publication, and if you would like more information about Damaged, Hidden or my forthcoming books, then please visit www.cathyglass.co.uk.
Cathy Glass
Reactions to Damaged
by Cathy Glass
‘It gave me an insight into a world that was so tragic, it broke my heart. But it is also a world I am familiar with, for my life was the same as Jodie’s for two years … The book shows people like us that there is no need to live in shame and fear as Jodie did and so did I.’ Warren, England
‘Many thanks for letting us share in your life. We both read it and we both cried.’ David and Louise, England
‘I was a foster child myself and I was touched by your patience and kindness in your care of Jodie. I couldn’t put your book down but it made me cry, I know how Jodie must have felt … You are very special, Cathy, I felt reassured that there are people like you. Thank you for telling us Jodie’s story.’ Sue, Scotland
‘My memories of being in foster care are fabulous and will live with me for the rest of my life. You are right in your book, there are so many children out there who need love. You are doing a fantastic job in giving unfortunate children your time and love.’ Wendy, UK
‘I finished reading Damaged at midnight last night. It took me just two days to read it. I could not put it down … It took a lot of courage for me to read it as I was abused by a family member when I was eight years old … I am looking forward to Cathy’s next book. Cathy is truly an angel from heaven, and one of the people I admire most in the world.’ Debby, hotmail.com
‘As a foster carer of almost ten years I saw in this book some of the things I have seen in the children I have cared for, although nowhere near as extreme. The book reduced me to tears. I hope others reading it are now more aware of the extreme circumstances some of the children we care for have to endure before they are found a place of safety. I also hope that it will raise awareness into fostering. Many thanks for a fantastic book and I look forward to more in the future.’ Jeanette, aol.com
‘I picked up Damaged and couldn’t put it down … I want to thank Cathy for enlightening us. Without people like her, there would be absolutely no hope for helping children and opening our eyes to what we knew existed but not to the extent I have read … I am so glad that Cathy remained a foster carer.’ Elizabeth, aol.com
‘Your book affected me so much … I would like to know what I can do to help other children like Jodie … I am so angry that this is potentially happening all around us … Thank you for writing this book … you are an inspiration.’ Lisa, Australia
Acknowledgements
My sincere thanks to my agent Andrew Lownie; Carole Tonkinson and all the team at HarperCollins; and Kirsty Fowkes, my editor.
Copyright
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ePub edition June 2008 ISBN-9780007383903
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