by Jo Bartlett
The rest of the participants were already gathered around the table at the back of the room, drinking coffee and eating biscuits. None of them looked as if the video they’d just watched had rocked them to the core. Maybe it was because none of the others were on their own. The most forthright of the group were Sally and Ian, a middle-aged couple whose own three children had grown up and flown the nest. All three of them had done ‘terribly well for themselves’ according to Sally when they’d been introduced to one another at the start of the day, and now they wanted to give something back and let another child have the same wonderful opportunities that their own children had been given. The next couple were Richard and David, who’d been married for two years and were doing the course to decide whether fostering was for them, or whether they should consider another route to parenthood. Glancing over at Richard, who looked at least ten years older than his husband, it was obvious that he wasn’t quite at ease as he’d seemed at the beginning of the day. It was reassuring to think he might have been affected in some way by watching the video too. The last of the group were Mohammed and Fatima, who’d both worked in children’s residential homes for several years and didn’t look like there was anything that could faze them.
‘You look like you need a coffee.’ Richard was already pouring it as Jess approached the table. She’d kept her own introduction short and sweet – when it had finally come to her turn – wondering if the other participants could hear her heart hammering as they turned to look at her.
‘Hi, I’m Jess and I’m a midwife. I’ll be applying as a single foster carer, just to carry out some respite initially, and I can’t wait to get started.’ She hadn’t missed the way that Sally’s eyebrows had shot up behind her fringe when Jess had dared to utter the word single, and for a moment she’d been tempted to elaborate on the story. But if she’d gone down that road, she might still have been in the middle of her introduction now, four hours later, instead of taking the cup of coffee Richard was holding out.
‘I found that video a really difficult watch.’ Jess met his gaze and there was just the slightest flicker of recognition in Richard’s eyes. The trouble with pre-approval training was that it didn’t just provide the participants with information; the trainers were also making an assessment to see if the participants had what it took to be foster carers. Jess couldn’t fail, not again. And it didn’t look like Richard wanted to risk it either by being too honest about any doubts he might have, and David was watching him like a hawk. That was one of the downsides of being in a couple, it wasn’t just yourself you’d be messing things up for if you put a foot wrong. At least that was one thing Jess didn’t have to worry about any more.
‘I think it’s supposed to give us a realistic idea of what to expect, but it was heartbreaking hearing some of the stories about what the children have been through.’ Richard picked up a small wicker basket from the table. ‘Shortbread?’
‘No thanks. I just hope I’d know how to help a child like that last little boy. The responsibility of getting things right is terrifying.’
‘I wouldn’t worry, Dexter and Helen said the course will help weed out the people who aren’t up to the job.’ Sally cut into their conversation without waiting for an invitation, giving Jess a pointed look. ‘And, let’s face it, this is going to be really tough for you. For a start you’ve never had any children of your own, not to mention the fact that you’re single. It’s going to make it all that much tougher.’
‘Actually lots of our friends are foster carers and some of the best are doing it on their own.’ Fatima waved a half-eaten shortbread biscuit in the air. ‘Carers working one-on-one with a foster child can create an even closer bond with them sometimes.’
‘Ah, but are your friends childless too?’ Sally wasn’t backing down and she couldn’t have known the effect her words were having. It was such a small word – childless – but when you spent your day surrounded by pregnant women and babies, and when being childless had ended your marriage, it suddenly took on a whole new significance. Jess had lost count of the times that women she was caring for had asked whether she had any children of her own and, when she told them she hadn’t, the doubt in their eyes was obvious. How could a midwife who’d never given birth herself possibly be as good as one who had? There were even other midwives who’d openly expressed the same opinion – thankfully not since she’d joined the team in Port Agnes – but it had happened from time to time back when she’d been based in a maternity unit in the hospital. Now she was about to embark on a whole new adventure and there were already people suggesting that she was somehow inadequate, just because she’d never managed to have a baby of her own.
‘I think you’ve got to accept that this is going to be difficult for all of you.’ Helen, the foster carer who was running the course alongside a social worker from the local authority, squeezed Jess’s shoulder. ‘Having a stranger in your home 24/7, not to mention the behaviours you’re likely to see, is going to be really hard to deal with regardless of your marital status. Me and my husband, John, felt like our whole world had been turned upside down when Shay first arrived in our lives. I’m sure working as a midwife has some really challenging moments too and you’ll have developed loads of transferable skills you can use when you’re fostering.’
‘I hope so.’ Jess’s voice sounded weirdly detached, but then she hadn’t felt like her normal self in ages, so she couldn’t expect to sound like it either. Once upon a time she might have had to tone herself down for something like this and stop trying to be the life and soul of the party, making everyone laugh. But just lately life seemed to have toned her down all by itself.
‘You don’t look like a midwife.’ Ian gave her an appraising stare. ‘Although there is a touch of Barbara Windsor in her Carry On Doctor days about you.’
‘Ian!’ Sally gave him a sharp jab in the ribs with her elbow, making his cup and saucer wobble.
‘What about you and David?’ Jess turned back to Richard. It was easier to ignore Sally and Ian than respond to their comments in a way that Helen wouldn’t count against her. ‘Do you know yet if fostering’s the right choice for you, after today?’
‘It’s certainly not going to be a walk in the park if we go down that route, but then we didn’t really expect it to be, did we, Davy?’
‘No! We watched loads of documentaries on YouTube and I think I must have read all the Cathy Glass books.’ David smiled with the sort of confidence someone only had when they knew they’d revised every possible question on the test before they even turned over the paper. ‘Did you do a lot of research?’
‘A bit.’ Jess shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, wondering if David was going to ask her to elaborate. The last thing she wanted to do was tell a room full of strangers exactly how in-depth her research had been, but they seemed determined to make her the centre of attention for some reason. At least it was good practice for the panel who’d be making a recommendation about whether they thought she’d be a good foster carer.
‘I wouldn’t worry about how much research you’ve done; not everything out there is true anyway. The whole purpose of these Skills to Foster courses is to give you an accurate picture of what fostering is all about, to make sure it’s a good fit for you.’ Helen had a kind face, her apple-shaped cheeks making it look as though smiling was her go-to expression. It must have made it so much easier for the children who turned up on her doorstep with their possessions in a bag for life, and a social worker stopping them from running in the opposite direction. Jess was going to have to work on smiling more again. She was getting there, but it didn’t come as naturally as it used to.
‘Sorry about dashing off before the end of the video, but I needed to take a phone call.’ Dexter, the social worker who was leading the session with Helen, came back into the room like a whirlwind. He was tall, with dark hair that looked like he’d missed at least one appointment with his barber and a grazing of stubble, all of which somehow really suited him rather th
an making him look scruffy. He probably spent his whole life running from one crisis to another, trying to sort things out, but when he smiled the weight of the world seemed to lift off his shoulders.
‘No problem, Dexter.’ Helen smiled again too, handing him a cup of coffee. ‘We were just talking about how difficult some of the videos we’ve shown are to watch, and how it’s not always a good idea to take everything you read about fostering as gospel, unless you hear it from someone who has experienced it first-hand.’
‘Exactly, that’s why I always ask Helen to do these courses with me. I might see some of it from the point of view of a social worker, but I don’t know what it’s like to have that responsibility every minute of the day.’ Dexter ran a hand through his hair, making his thick silver wedding band catch the light. Jess curled her left hand into a fist as a reflex, suddenly aware of the lighter strip of skin on the ring finger of her left hand where her own wedding band had been until recently, when she’d finally decided to take it off. The last thing she wanted was to invite any more unwanted questions.
‘Are things always as difficult as they were in the last video?’ Even as she opened her mouth, Jess hadn’t intended to ask the sort of question that might make Dexter and Helen put a giant cross against her name. But she had to ask, she had to know what she was getting into and whether there was a snowball’s chance in hell she could actually do it. She hated the thought of wasting anyone’s time, but even worse was the thought of letting a child down the way she’d been let down. She’d never forgive herself for that.
‘We do try to show you the worst-case scenario, but the likelihood is there will be some tough times ahead for those of you who go on to become foster carers.’ Dexter looked at her levelly; he had bright blue eyes and an apparent ability not to blink for an unnerving length of time. ‘But there are some cases where we’ve matched young people with their carers and it’s all just fallen into place, as if the children have always been there. It’s important that you all understand that’s not the norm, though, and that there’ll more than likely be a lot of bumps along the road, but your supervising social worker will be there to help you through that.’
‘You’re only doing respite anyway, aren’t you, Jess?’ Sally manoeuvred herself into the space between Jess and Dexter. ‘So it’s not like real fostering.’
‘You won’t be saying that when you’re desperate for a respite carer to give you a break.’ Dexter’s face was deadpan, but as he turned away from Sally he dropped Jess the perfect wink. ‘Okay, five more minutes and we’ll move on to everyone’s favourite activity of the day – role play!’ He laughed at the groans that went up in response and Jess crossed her fingers behind her back, silently praying that she wouldn’t be asked to play the role of a foster child. She wasn’t sure she could pull off a game of ‘let’s pretend’ without the past she’d fought so hard to bury suddenly rushing back to the surface when she least wanted it to.
‘At last, I’ve been dying to know how it all went!’ Anna had snatched up the phone on the first ring, so it didn’t sound like an exaggeration.
‘It was fine.’
‘Hmm, I know that tone. Only you can say “fine” like that and make it sound about as appealing as root canal surgery.’ There was no fooling Anna. Jess had hoped she might be able to keep things non-committal over the phone, when her friend couldn’t all-too-easily read the expression on her face, but clearly not. When you worked side by side as community midwives, navigating life-and-death emergencies, there was a tendency to form bonds quickly.
The last six months had really set the seal on Jess’s friendships with all the other midwives, but especially with Anna and Ella. They’d been so supportive since Dom had left. They’d barely got past their third anniversary before their relationship had fallen apart, and she’d felt ashamed of failing so spectacularly and so quickly too. She’d even thought about sending back the wedding gifts they’d never actually got round to using – the bread maker that had seemed essential to becoming the kind of domestic goddess all good wives were supposed to be, not to mention the champagne glasses for all the celebrations they were supposed to have together for the next fifty-odd years. One thing that had got far more use than anticipated in their last year together was the cotton bedding meant for the spare room, where Dom had taken up almost permanent residence when things had started to go wrong.
Jess hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about that. The rejection she’d experienced all through her life was something she’d kept to herself, but she’d found herself opening up to Anna, who lost her parents when she was so young, and to Ella, who wouldn’t judge her for just about managing to limp through three years as a married woman. After all, Ella had been jilted on the steps of the registry office, half an hour after her wedding was supposed to start. In comparison Jess had to admit she’d had it relatively easy.
‘The training day was pretty good, but a bit of reality check about what I might be getting into. It was just some of the other people there…’ Jess sighed. ‘They all seem to have it so much more together than me and none of them were on their own. What if I can’t do this by myself?’
‘Of course you can! Jess Kennedy can do anything she puts her mind to!’ Anna had got into the habit of talking about Jess in the third person when she was having a wobble and it always made her laugh because of how ridiculous it sounded. Although it would be even more worrying if she ever reached the stage where she started talking about herself like that.
‘I just don’t want to let anyone down.’
‘You never do.’ There was a pause as Jess desperately tried to think of something to say in response, but she was still rubbish at knowing how to accept anything that might pass as a compliment. ‘Are you still there, Jess?’
‘Yes, sorry, the line went a bit funny.’
‘Okay, well I won’t keep you hanging on too long. I know Ella wants to hear how you’ve got on too, but we didn’t want to bombard you with calls. So we wondered if you’ve got time for breakfast tomorrow, as none of us are working. You could tell us all about it then.’
‘I could meet you at The Cookie Jar?’ The little café served traditional Cornish fayre, from Mehenick’s famous pasties through to home-made clotted cream ice cream. They also did a delicious breakfast, called ‘the fisherman’s feast’, which probably contained more calories than one person was supposed to consume in a day, but thankfully nothing fishy unless you were the sort of weirdo who’d be tempted to order a side of kippers.
‘That sounds perfect. Nine o’clock okay for you?’
‘Absolutely, I’ll see you then. And thanks, Anna.’
‘For what?’
‘For your support and checking in on me, it means a lot.’ Jess laughed. ‘But if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll flat out deny it!’
‘I won’t say a word, I promise! See you tomorrow.’
‘See you then.’ Ending the call, Jess was so busy thinking about everything that had gone on in the training, she didn’t notice the man lurking in the shadows at the edge of the car park, until he stepped out.
‘Jesus, you made me jump!’ Jess clapped her hand over her mouth. Would blasphemy count against her when she was being weighed up as a foster carer? It could have been a lot worse, though; she’d been very close to saying something that would definitely have counted as a swear word.
‘Sorry! I didn’t want to interrupt your phone call, but I wanted to talk to you before you left.’ Dexter gave her an apologetic smile, the shadows under his eyes hinting at the long day he’d had. The Skills to Foster course was usually run over two days, but the local authority were experimenting with compressing it into a single day this time. It had made for a very long session and it was almost eight o’clock, daylight already beginning to lose its battle with the dark despite the lengthening days of spring.
‘It’s fine, I was miles away, thinking about work.’ Jess was already trying to figure out just how much of the phone call he might have overheard.
If he’d been lurking there when she’d been telling Anna that she didn’t think she was up to being a foster carer, that would definitely mean she had another big cross against her name. It couldn’t be a good sign that he wanted to catch her before she left either. Maybe he wanted to break it to her that they didn’t think she had what it took, so she didn’t waste any more of their time.
‘I just wanted to check that nothing that happened today put you off the idea of fostering?’
‘I found some of the videos difficult to watch, but as much as the responsibility terrifies me, it just makes me want to help kids like that even more.’ There was something about Dexter; something that made her blurt out the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth when she looked into his eyes – even though she’d rather have pretended that none of it scared her quite as much as it did.
‘I’d be more worried if you weren’t terrified of the responsibility. That means you’ll try all the harder to get things right. The applicants who worry me the most are the ones who think they’ve got all the answers.’ He grinned and she had a feeling she knew exactly who he meant. ‘I’m really glad the training hasn’t put you off, because Helen and I both thought you had at least as much to offer as everyone else who was there today.’
‘Thank you.’ For a second Jess was tempted to ask if he’d got her mixed up with someone else, but for once she managed not to say more than she needed to.
‘I’ll see you at the next pre-approval training, then, when we start to look at the sort of children who might be a good match for you.’
