The Silent Cry Page 2

  ‘Oh, that. It was nothing,’ Geraldine said dismissively. ‘It was far too soon for her to be going out and she realizes that now.’

  I gave a small nod. ‘As long as she’s not ill.’

  ‘No, of course not,’ she said bluntly.

  ‘Good. Well, if she ever fancies a change of scenery and a coffee, she knows where I live.’

  ‘Oh, she won’t be up to that for a long while,’ Geraldine said tartly. ‘I’ve told her she’s not to go out for at least another four weeks, possibly longer. That’s the advice we had after giving birth.’ Taking Kim by the arm, she headed off.

  Not go out for another four weeks! You could have knocked me down with a feather. Wherever had she got that from? It was nearly three weeks since Laura had given birth and as far as I knew there was no medical advice that said a new mother had to wait seven weeks before going out, unless Geraldine was confusing it with postpartum sex, but even then seven weeks was excessive if the birth had been normal. More likely, I thought, Geraldine was suffering from empty-nest syndrome and she liked being the centre of the family and having Laura rely on her. It would make her feel needed, and if that suited Laura, fine. It was none of my business. I’d been reassured that Laura wasn’t ill, and I had my family to look after and work to do.

  It was the weekend and the weather was glorious, so Adrian, Paula and I spent most of Saturday in the garden, where the children played while I read and then did some gardening. On Sunday my parents came for the day and after lunch we were in the garden again. In the evening after they’d gone, my husband, John, telephoned from America where he was working. He’d got into the habit of telephoning on a Sunday evening when it was lunchtime where he was. We all took turns to speak to him and tell him our news. Even little Paula ‘spoke’ to him, although she was bemused by the workings of the telephone and kept examining the handset, trying to work out where the voice was coming from, rather than holding it to her ear.

  On Monday the school week began again, and as the weather was fine we walked to and from school. I only used my car for school if it was raining hard or if I had to go somewhere straight after school. Geraldine continued to take Kim to school and collect her, and continued to ignore me and all the other parents. Perhaps she was just shy, I thought, although she had a standoffish, austere look about her. Each time I passed Laura’s house, number 53, which was four times a day (on the way to and from school), I glanced over. But there was never any sign of Laura or baby Liam, so I assumed Laura was making the most of having Geraldine in charge and was relaxing indoors or in the back garden. Sometimes Paula pointed to the house and, remembering that Liam lived there, said, ‘Baby.’ If she was out of her stroller and walking, she tried the gate – and most of the others in the street!

  On Thursday afternoon, once we’d returned home from school, we hadn’t been in long when the telephone rang. It was a social worker asking if I could do some respite and look after a little boy, Darrel, aged three, for that night and all day Friday. His mother, Shelley, a young, single parent, had to go into hospital as a day patient and the person who was supposed to have been looking after Darrel had let her down at the last minute. She had no one else she could ask at such short notice, and I said I’d be happy to help and look after Darrel.

  ‘Shelley’s a young mum but she’s a good one,’ the social worker said. ‘She’ll bring Darrel to you at about six o’clock this evening. She said she’d bring everything he needs, but she’s fretting that she’s run out of meatless sausages. She’s a vegetarian and she’s bringing up Darrel the same. Apparently he loves meatless sausages for lunch, but she hasn’t got time to go into town and buy more. I’ve told her you’ll be able to cook him something else vegetarian.’

  ‘Yes, of course I will, but tell her I’ll see if I can get some of the sausages. If she’s not bringing Darrel until six, I’ve got time to pop down to our local supermarket. I’m sure I’ve seen some there.’

  ‘Oh, you are good. I’ll tell her. It’s the first time Darrel has been away from her overnight and she’s getting herself into a bit of a state. It’s understandable.’

  ‘Yes,’ I agreed.

  ‘She has to be at the hospital at eight o’clock tomorrow morning and she should be discharged later that afternoon. If she does have to stay overnight or doesn’t feel up to collecting Darrel on Friday evening can he stay with you for a second night?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ll phone Shelley now and reassure her, and give her your contact details.’

  ‘I’ll see her about six then.’ We said goodbye and I hung up. I hadn’t been told what was wrong with Shelley and I didn’t need to know. But I could appreciate why she was anxious at being separated from her son and was fretting because he would miss his favourite food. I’d seen the meatless sausages in the freezer cabinet at the supermarket a few weeks before when I’d been looking for something else. I just hoped they’d still have some in stock. But it’s strange the way things work out sometimes, as if it’s meant to be, for had I not offered to go to the supermarket I would probably have remained ignorant of what was really going on in Laura’s house.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said to Adrian and Paula. ‘We’ve got to pop down to the shop.’

  Adrian pulled a face. ‘We’ve only just got in and I wanted to play in the garden.’

  ‘You can play as soon as we return,’ I said. ‘We won’t be long. We’re looking after a little boy tonight and he likes a special type of sausage. I want to see if I can buy some.’

  Adrian was growing up with fostering, as was Paula, so it didn’t surprise him that a child could suddenly appear and join our family. It was when they left that he didn’t like it. Neither did I, but as a foster carer you have to learn to accept that the children leave you, and you take comfort from knowing you’ve done your best to help the child and their family, and then be ready for the next child.

  ‘Can I have an ice cream from the shop then?’ Adrian asked cannily.

  Usually the answer would have been, ‘No, not before your dinner,’ but given that he was having to come out again and go shopping rather than playing in the garden, I thought a little reward was in order.

  ‘Yes, a small one that won’t spoil your dinner,’ I said.

  ‘Yippee, ice cream!’ Adrian said.

  ‘Ice cream,’ Paula repeated.

  ‘Yes, you can have one too.’

  As Adrian put on his trainers I fitted Paula’s shoes and then lifted her into the stroller, which I kept in the hall.

  The local supermarket was at the bottom of my street, to the right, on the same road as the school. While it wasn’t suitable for a big shop it was very useful for topping up, and I often popped in if we were running short on essentials. If they didn’t have the sausages in stock I would tell Shelley I’d tried and then ask her what else Darrel liked to eat. I was sure I’d be able to find something else he liked. Although he was only staying with me for a day or so, it was important the experience was a good one for him and his mother, and that included meeting his needs and accommodating his likes and dislikes where possible. I would also ask Shelley about Darrel’s routine, and I’d keep to it as much as possible to minimize the disruption to him. Even so, despite everything I was going to do, he was still likely to be upset – a three-year-old left with strangers. Had this not been an emergency respite placement he could have come for a visit beforehand to meet us, so it wouldn’t be so strange for him.

  As we walked down the street Adrian asked, ‘Will Darrel go to my school?’

  ‘No, he’s not old enough for school yet,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, yes, of course,’ Adrian said, with an embarrassed grin. ‘I knew that really. I am a muppet.’

  ‘Muppet,’ Paula repeated.

  ‘You’re a muppet,’ Adrian said, teasing his sister and ruffling her hair.

  ‘Muppet,’ she said again, giggling.

  ‘You’re a muppet,’ Adrian said again. And so we continued down
the street with the word ‘muppet’ bouncing good-humouredly back and forth between the two of them.

  ‘So how do we cross the road safely?’ I asked Adrian as we arrived at the pavement edge.

  ‘Think, stop, look and listen, and when it’s all clear walk, don’t run, across the road,’ he said, paraphrasing the safety code that they’d been taught at school.

  ‘Good boy.’

  We waited for the cars to pass and then crossed the road and went into the supermarket. I took a shopping basket and we went straight to the freezer cabinet. To my relief they had three packets of meatless sausages; I took one and placed it in the basket. Adrian then spent some time selecting ice creams for him and Paula and put those in the basket too. Paula reached out and began whining, wanting her ice cream straight away. ‘I have to pay for it first and take off the wrapper,’ I said.

  We headed for the checkout. As we turned the corner of the aisle we saw Kim with a shopping basket on her arm, looking at a display of biscuits. ‘Hello, love,’ I said. ‘Are you helping your mum?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, a little self-consciously. I glanced around for Laura but couldn’t see her. ‘Where is she?’ I asked her. ‘I’ll say hello.’

  ‘She’s at home,’ Kim said.

  ‘Oh, OK. Tell her I said hi, please.’

  Kim smiled and gave a small nod.

  I wasn’t going in search of her grandmother, whom I assumed was in one of the other aisles, to say hello, so we continued to the checkout. There was a woman in front of us and as we waited another joined the small queue behind us. Then, as we stepped forward for our turn, I saw Kim join the queue. The cashier rang up our items and placed them in a carrier bag, which I hung on the stroller. I paid and before we left I looked again at Kim and smiled – she was still waiting in the queue, without her grandmother.

  Outside the shop I parked the stroller out of the way of the main door and gave Adrian his ice cream, and then removed the wrapper from Paula’s. I glanced through the glass shopfront and saw that Kim was now at the till. ‘Surely Kim isn’t here alone?’ I said out loud, voicing my concerns.

  Adrian shrugged, more interested in his ice cream.

  I threw the wrappers in the bin but didn’t immediately start for home.

  ‘Can we go now?’ Adrian asked impatiently. ‘I want to play in the garden.’

  ‘Yes, in a minute.’

  I watched as Kim packed and paid for her shopping and then came out. ‘Are you here alone?’ I asked her.

  She gave a small, furtive nod, almost as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

  ‘We can walk back together,’ I suggested.

  She gave another small nod and we crossed the pavement and waited on the kerb. I was surprised and concerned that Kim was by herself. She was only seven, and while there is no law that states a child of seven shouldn’t go out alone I thought it was far too young. She wasn’t in sight of her house, she was by herself and she’d had to cross quite a busy road. A foster child certainly wouldn’t have been allowed to make this journey alone at her age, and neither would I have allowed my own children to do so.

  ‘Is your mother all right?’ I asked Kim as we began up our street. I wondered if there had been an emergency, which had necessitated Kim having to buy some items.

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ she said politely.

  ‘Where’s your gran?’ I asked, trying not to sound as though I was questioning her.

  ‘At her house,’ Kim replied.

  ‘And you’ve been doing some shopping for your mother?’ She nodded. ‘Do you often do the shopping?’ I asked after a moment, for she appeared quite confident in her role.

  ‘Yes, sometimes, since Mum had Liam.’

  ‘Does your gran not do the shopping then?’

  ‘Sometimes, but Mum doesn’t always like the things Gran buys.’

  So why not ask her to buy the things she does like? I thought but didn’t say.

  ‘And your mum didn’t want to walk down with you?’ I asked as we walked.

  ‘She’s got a bad headache. She’s in bed, and Dad won’t be home until later.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ I could see Kim looking enviously at Adrian’s and Paula’s ice creams and I wished I’d thought to buy her one. ‘So who’s looking after Liam?’ I asked.

  ‘He’s in the pram, asleep. I wanted to bring him with me, but Mum wouldn’t let me. If she’s not up later I can make him a bottle,’ Kim added proudly. ‘I know what to do.’

  I smiled and hid my concerns. This wasn’t making sense. If Geraldine liked to help, why wasn’t she helping the family now when they needed her? Laura was in bed, unwell, and Kim’s father wasn’t home. Why not phone Geraldine and ask for help? She only lived five streets away. We were drawing close to Laura’s house now.

  ‘What time does your dad get in from work?’ I asked her. ‘Do you know?’

  ‘I think it’s usually about seven-thirty or eight,’ Kim said.

  That was three hours away. ‘Does he know your mum is unwell and you had to go to the shop?’ We’d arrived at her garden gate.

  ‘No,’ Kim said, and opened the gate. If I hadn’t been expecting Shelley and Darrel, I would have gone in and asked Laura if there was anything I could do.

  Kim paused on the other side of the gate as she looped the carrier bag over her arm and took a front-door key from her purse.

  ‘Kim, will you please tell your mother I said hello and to phone me if there is anything I can do? She has my telephone number.’

  ‘Yes. Thank you,’ Kim said sweetly, and then hesitated. With a slightly guilty look she said, ‘You won’t tell Dad or Gran you saw me, will you?’

  ‘No, but is there a reason?’

  ‘They wouldn’t like it,’ Kim said. With a little embarrassed smile she turned and continued up the path to her front door.

  I watched her open the door and go in. There was no sign of Laura. The door closed and we continued on our way home.

  ‘Why is Kim doing the shopping?’ Adrian asked, having heard some of the conversation.

  ‘Her mother isn’t feeling well.’

  ‘Would I have to do the shopping if you weren’t well?’ he said through a mouthful of ice cream.

  ‘No. You’re too young.’

  ‘So who would do the shopping while Dad’s away if you were ill?’

  ‘I’d ask Sue [our neighbour], or another friend, or Nana and Grandpa. But don’t you worry, I’m not going to be ill.’ I knew Adrian was anxious about his father working away, and he occasionally asked who would do the jobs his dad usually did, like cutting the grass, or about other ‘what if’ scenarios, and I always reassured him.

  I paused to wipe ice cream from Paula’s mouth and hands, as it was melting faster than she could eat it, and then we continued up the street towards home. Perhaps it was from years of fostering that I instinctively sensed when a child might be hiding something, and I felt that now with Kim. What she might be hiding I didn’t know, but I had a nagging doubt that something wasn’t right in her house. I decided that the following week, at the first opportunity, I would make a neighbourly call and knock on Laura’s door – unless, of course, she was in the playground on Monday, which I doubted.

  Chapter Three

  Lullaby at Bedtime

  We’d just finished dinner that evening when the doorbell rang, and Adrian and Paula came with me to answer the door. Although it was still light outside I checked the security spyhole before opening it.

  ‘I’m Shelley and this is Darrel,’ the young woman said, with a nervous smile.

  ‘Yes, I’ve been expecting you, love. Come in.’

  ‘This is the lady I told you about,’ Shelley said, bending down to Darrel. He was standing beside her, holding her hand, and now buried his face against her leg, reluctant to come in.

  ‘He’s bound to be a bit shy to begin with,’ I said.

  ‘I know. I understand how he feels,’ Shelley said, clearly anxious herself. ‘Look, Dar
rel, Cathy has children you can play with.’

  ‘This is Adrian and this is Paula,’ I said.

  But Darrel kept his face pressed against his mother’s leg as she gently eased him over the doorstep and into the hall. I closed the front door. Adrian, two years older than Darrel and more confident on home territory, went up to him and touched his arm. ‘Would you like to come and play with some of my toys?’ he asked kindly.

  ‘That’s nice of you,’ Shelley said, but Darrel didn’t look up or release his grip on his mother.

  Then Paula decided that she, too, was shy and buried her face against my leg.

  ‘Do you want to leave your bags there?’ I said to Shelley, pointing to a space in the hall. ‘I’ll sort them out later.’

  She was carrying a large holdall on each shoulder and, unhooking them, set them on the floor. She was also carrying a cool bag. ‘Could you put these things in the fridge, please?’ she said, handing me the cool bag. ‘There’s a pot containing his porridge for breakfast. I made it the way he likes it, with milk, before we came, so you just have to heat it up.’

  ‘OK, that’s fine, thank you.’

  ‘And there’s some yoghurt in there as well, and diced fruit in little pots. He has them for pudding and snacks. I’ve also put in a pint of full-cream milk. He prefers that to the semi-skimmed. I give him a drink before he goes to bed. I forgot to tell the social worker that and I didn’t know if you had full-cream milk here.’

  ‘I’ve got most things,’ I said, trying to reassure her. ‘But it’s nice for Darrel to have what you’ve brought.’

  ‘Oh, the sausages!’ Shelley exclaimed.

  ‘Yes, I got some. Don’t worry.’

  ‘Thank you so much. I am grateful.’ Then, bending down to Darrel again, she said, ‘Cathy has got your favourite sausages. Isn’t that nice?’

  But Darrel kept his face pressed against his mother, and Shelley appeared equally nervous and anxious.

  ‘Try not to worry. He’ll be fine soon,’ I said. ‘Come and have a seat in the living room, while I put these things in the fridge.’