Another Forgotten Child Page 24

  ‘Not yet. I haven’t had a chance. But I’ll do so now and get back to you.’

  I was impressed by Norman’s efficiency, and relieved that at last we had a permanent social worker. I was even more impressed (and relieved) when an hour later Norman phoned again and said that Susan had agreed phone contact was difficult and suggested it stop completely.

  ‘Susan said it was a worry for her,’ Norman continued. ‘Aimee was often angry with her at contact if she hadn’t answered her phone the night before.’

  ‘Has Susan mellowed?’ I asked, for it seemed that not long ago she wouldn’t have agreed to anything.

  ‘My manager thinks so,’ Norman said. ‘Certainly Susan was fine with me on the phone and thanked me for calling.’

  So again I wondered if Susan was coming to terms with the possibility that Aimee wouldn’t be returned to live with her, which although sad – it’s sad that any parents should lose their child – would be better for them both in the long term.

  That afternoon when I collected Aimee from school to take her to contact I told her that she had a new social worker and he was called Norman. I said I’d spoken to him on the phone and that he would be visiting us the week after next, and that he sounded very pleasant and was easy to talk to.

  ‘Oh, goodie, a man,’ Aimee said flirtatiously, batting her eyelids.

  ‘He’s an adult male and he’s your social worker,’ I said firmly. ‘There’s no need to be silly about it.’ For while Aimee was improving in her attitude towards men and boys, she still needed correcting sometimes. In this matter as with others I was teaching her how to behave appropriately, which children of responsible parents learn naturally from the good example of their parents.

  When we arrived at the family centre the contact supervisor said that Susan hadn’t arrived yet, which was very unusual. I couldn’t remember a time when Susan hadn’t been in the contact room, ready and waiting for Aimee. I waited with Aimee in reception, aware that Susan would have to pass me on the way in, and I wondered what her attitude towards me would be. I hadn’t seen her for over two months – since the new arrangements for contact had begun – and I hoped that now, if she wasn’t so angry, we’d be able to establish a working relationship, which would be much better for Aimee.

  We waited fifteen minutes and then the contact supervisor came out of the office and said that Susan had just phoned to say she wouldn’t be able to make contact tonight; no reason had been given, but she sent her apologies. Aimee was annoyed and a little upset. I reassured her that she would see her mother on Friday, and we returned home, where she watched some television while I made dinner. I waited until after dinner to tell Aimee that there would be no more phone contact, for I was aware that this news coming straight after her mother missing contact at the family centre could seem like a rejection. So after I’d helped Aimee with her homework I said that it had been decided phone contact was difficult for both her and her mother and it would stop. Aimee accepted this with no fuss, so I guessed that in her heart of hearts she knew the phone calls to her mother hadn’t been good.

  However, I was very concerned when we arrived for the next contact – on Friday – and Susan wasn’t there again.

  ‘We’ve tried to phone her mobile but it’s switched off,’ the contact supervisor said insensitively in front of Aimee.

  ‘Perhaps Mum’s ill!’ Aimee said, very worried and her eyes watering.

  ‘I’m sure she’s not,’ I said. ‘We’d have been told.’ I put my arm around her and reassured her as best I could as we stood in reception and waited.

  Five minutes later I heard the phone ring through the open door of the office, but I couldn’t hear the conversation. Presently the contact supervisor appeared again. Aimee and I both looked at her expectantly. I hoped that if she had bad news she wouldn’t blurt it out in front of Aimee.

  ‘That was Aimee’s social worker on the phone,’ the supervisor said. ‘Susan’s not coming tonight.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked. Aimee snuggled closer to my side.

  ‘He said he’ll phone you shortly and explain.’

  There was little I could do but comfort Aimee, and we left hand in hand to return to the car. Outside I eased up the collar on her coat as a biting easterly wind cut into us. I knew Aimee was feeling rejected and I also knew she would be very anxious about her mother. ‘I’m sure your mum is all right,’ I said. ‘Your social worker is phoning soon and I’ll tell you what he says.’

  Aimee gave a small nod and I opened the rear door of the car and saw her in. Having checked her seatbelt was secure I closed her door and went round the back of the car to get into the driver’s seat. However, just as I was about to open the driver’s door my phone began to ring. Quickly taking it from my pocket I saw an unknown mobile number appear on the display.

  ‘Hello?’ I answered tentatively.

  ‘It’s Norman,’ Aimee’s social worker said. ‘Can you talk?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Aimee can’t hear you?’

  ‘No, she’s in the car. I’m just outside it.’

  ‘I understand Susan didn’t go to contact tonight?’

  ‘No. Nor the last time.’

  ‘So I’ve been told. Susan’s solicitor phoned about an hour ago and said Susan had decided to stop all contact with Aimee.’

  ‘Oh no. Why?’ I asked in amazement.

  ‘She had a meeting with her solicitor and as a result of that Susan’s made the decision to stop seeing Aimee.’

  ‘Whatever did the solicitor say?’ I asked.

  ‘Apparently he gave her an honest appraisal of her case and said that the chances of Aimee being returned to her were minimal, if not non-existent. He advised her not to contest the case, as there would be no chance of her winning.’ It was another aspect of the adversarial nature of childcare proceedings that there was a ‘winner’ and a ‘loser’.

  ‘And Susan agreed? Just like that?’ I asked, incredulous and concerned.

  ‘With some conditions,’ Norman said. ‘Also Susan is now saying she will agree to Aimee going to live with Jason as long as she can have regular contact – every two months, as she has with one of her older children. Her solicitor advised her that if it was an uncontested hearing, and Aimee went to live with Jason, then she was more likely to get regular contact.’

  Norman stopped and there was a small silence. I shivered inside my coat as the wind nipped me. ‘I see,’ I said. ‘And are you going to agree to that level of contact? I asked, worried.

  ‘If it means we have Susan’s cooperation and we can avoid a protracted court case, then very likely yes. We have to think what is best for Aimee and it will mean we can get her settled at Jason’s quickly. It will of course be supervised contact.’

  ‘And what about Susan’s influence on Aimee?’ I asked, still concerned. ‘I thought it was a worry that with regular contact she could undermine and manipulate the situation, as she has done with some of her older children.’

  ‘Contact will need to be carefully monitored,’ Norman said. ‘I’ll be speaking to my manager in the morning but sometimes we have to accept a compromise.’ Which I knew to be true. In this case it would be a payoff between Susan’s cooperation with regular contact and a protected legal battle that would leave Aimee in the care system and in limbo for a year, and the social services with a costly bill. ‘In the meantime,’ Norman continued, ‘could you explain what’s happening to Aimee?’

  ‘I’ll try but it won’t be easy. It would have been better for Aimee if contact could have been gradually reduced.’

  ‘I know, but Susan has told her solicitor that she doesn’t want to see Aimee again until after the move to Jason. Perhaps it’s her way of dealing with it, so we have to respect that.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, not convinced. This was going to be difficult for Aimee. Often, as parents, we have to sacrifice what we would like in favour of what is in our child’s best interest. But of course Susan had never been able to do that.


  ‘To be honest I’m not sure what to tell Aimee,’ I said. ‘I mean, it’s not definite yet that Aimee will go to live with Jason, is it? He hasn’t been assessed.’

  ‘Well, actually he has,’ Norman said, and he sounded as though he was smiling. ‘Good fortune. I found out this morning that he and his wife have recently been assessed as foster carers, which should help the timescale enormously.’

  ‘What a coincidence!’ I said.

  ‘Yes. It appears Jason was so grateful for the foster care he received before he was adopted that he wanted to give something back and help others. I’ll tell you more when I see you at the permanency planning meeting next week. For now mention Jason to Aimee but explain nothing is definite yet. I’ll have to meet Jason and his family before anything is finalized.’

  ‘I’ll think of something to say,’ I said.

  ‘Thank you.’

  I said goodbye to Norman, returned my phone to my pocket and steeled myself before getting into the car.

  ‘Well? What did he say?’ Aimee asked, guessing it had been her social worker on the phone.

  I turned in my seat to look at her; the interior light in the car was still on and her little face looked pale and anxious. ‘Your mother is well, love. She is not ill, but she’s had to make some difficult decisions.’

  ‘She doesn’t want to see me any more, does she?’ Aimee blurted, tears immediately springing to her eyes.

  I reached over and took her hand. ‘She does, but it won’t be quite so often. And there is good news as well. Aimee, it’s cold and dark, so let’s go home first and then I’ll tell you what Norman has told me. I’d rather take time and explain it to you. Is that all right?’

  Aimee gave a small nod and I passed her a tissue so she could wipe her eyes. ‘The main thing is your mother is not ill,’ I said again, by way of reassurance.

  Aimee sniffed. ‘It’s those drugs,’ she said. ‘She should never have had kids if she couldn’t look after them.’

  ‘I know, love,’ I said sadly. I couldn’t disagree.

  Once I was sure Aimee was all right I turned in my seat to face the front, started the engine and drove home.

  When we arrived home the house was empty; we were earlier than usual, so Paula hadn’t arrived home from sixth form yet, and Lucy was still at work. I helped Aimee unbutton her coat and hang it on the coat stand; then we went through to the sitting room, where we sat side by side on the sofa. I began by reassuring Aimee that her mother wasn’t ill, and then I told her what I knew about Jason and his family. Aimee had heard her mother mention him a few times but had no details. I said that as a young child he’d been in foster care and had then been adopted. I said he was married and had one child, and he and his wife had asked if they could look after Aimee permanently and be her new forever family. I emphasized that Jason and his family were very nice people who had a lovely home, for I understood that when Jason had been mentioned by Susan what she’d said had been negative. I also emphasized that before anything was definite her social worker would meet Jason and his family to make sure their home was the best place for Aimee to live.

  Aimee sat quietly, taking all this in, and then when I’d finished asked, ‘So Jason is my brother?’

  ‘Yes. Your half-brother really.’

  ‘What’s a half-brother?’

  I purposely hadn’t gone into this too deeply, as all Aimee’s brothers and sisters had different fathers. ‘He has a different father to you,’ I said.

  ‘And when Jason was little he had a new mummy and daddy?’ Aimee sensibly asked.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. He was adopted.’

  ‘Does he still see my mum?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘But I will?’

  ‘Yes. But there’s going to be a break for now, which was why your mother wasn’t at contact. It’s been decided it would be better if you and your mum stopped seeing each other until everything is sorted out. Then when all the decisions have been made you will see each other again.’ By saying ‘it has been decided’ rather than ‘your mother decided’ I hoped to lessen Aimee’s feelings of rejection.

  However, Aimee exclaimed: ‘A break! Mum’s always having breaks from me! When I was at home she left me with anyone who would have me.’ Which I knew to be true from the original referral and what Kristen, the first social worker, had told me.

  ‘Your mum had a lot of problems,’ I said. ‘But try not to be angry and blame her.’ It doesn’t do children any good to be angry with their parents, because if they are they can grow into angry adults.

  ‘And Jason doesn’t do what Mum does and get drunk and smoke or take drugs?’

  ‘No. Absolutely not,’ I said firmly. ‘He’s been assessed as a foster carer, as I have, so he won’t do any of those things – for sure.’

  ‘Good,’ Aimee said. ‘Pity Mum wasn’t a foster carer.’

  She fell silent and I slipped my arm around her and drew her to me. Aimee no longer resisted when I hugged her; indeed she often came to me during the day for a hug, and always wanted a hug and kiss goodnight. As I held her and felt her body relax against mine, I thought how far she’d come from the angry feral child, filthy and crawling with head lice, to the girl who sat beside me now and was just like my daughter.

  ‘If you do go to live with Jason we’re all going to miss you,’ I said quietly, allowing my head to rest on hers.

  ‘I’m going to miss you too,’ Aimee said. ‘Will you guys come and visit me?’

  ‘I hope so. We’d like to.’ Although I knew it would be up to Jason and his family if there was any contact and how much.

  ‘And what if I don’t go to Jason?’ Aimee now asked quietly. ‘Who’s going to have me then?’

  ‘I hope you will stay with us,’ I said. ‘We’d like you to.’

  Aimee gave my hand a little squeeze before she said, ‘I’m lucky. Two families want me now as their daughter. Before no one did.’

  I felt a lump rise to my throat. ‘That just shows what a lovely person you are,’ I said. ‘But Aimee, it wasn’t that your mum didn’t want you, she couldn’t look after you.’

  ‘So you keep telling me. But, Cathy, if my mum had wanted me badly enough, she would have changed. She would have stopped taking drugs, cleaned the house, cleaned me and taken me to school. That’s what she should have done if she wanted me bad enough.’ Aimee raised her head and looked at me sadly, wide eyes imploring.

  What could I say? She was right, of course. I’d worked with parents before who’d turned their lives around, so desperate were they to get their children back. Susan had been given the same chances but had been unable to make the necessary changes to keep her children.

  Aimee sighed and gave a little shrug. ‘Oh, well, I guess that’s life,’ she said. ‘You win some and lose some. But I’m a winner now, aren’t I, Cathy?’

  ‘You certainly are, love.’

  When Paula arrived home from sixth form Aimee leapt from the sofa and greeted her with: ‘Guess what? I’ve got half a brother and he’s going to be my dad.’ Little wonder Paula looked confused!

  I came out from the kitchen, where I’d been making dinner, and quickly explained to Paula who Jason was and the possibility that Aimee might be going to live with him and his family. I told Paula I’d tell her as soon as I knew more and Paula told Aimee she was happy for her. However, when Lucy arrived home an hour later and Aimee rushed into the hall to greet her, she cried: ‘I’m going to live with my brother and he’s sexy!’

  ‘Aimee!’ I cried, immediately going into the hall. ‘That’s not how you talk about your brother or any family member. You know that. I’ve told you before that little girls don’t call men sexy. It’s not nice. Do you understand?’

  Aimee nodded. ‘Sorry,’ she said, subdued, and I felt awful for telling her off. But Aimee’s words were a reality check – a harsh reminder that she still had a way to go. Jason would need to be told the details of Aimee’s background so that he could help her deal wit
h the abuse she’d suffered and also put in place measures to protect himself and his family, just as I’d had to. With the high level of contact that was being planned, if Susan decided not to cooperate any longer she could easily twist what Aimee told her, just as she had done with us. If the social services didn’t make Jason fully aware of Aimee’s background then I would. It would be unfair not to tell him and leave him wide open to the possibility of allegations of abuse.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Progress

  Most people working in social care will agree that decisions often take far too long to be made, and the court system for children in care is laboriously slow, but Aimee’s case now speeded up like a runaway train. On Tuesday morning I attended the long-overdue PEP (personal education plan) meeting, which was held at Aimee’s school. The PEP meeting is relatively small, short and informal, but it is a statutory requirement for all children in care. The aim of the meeting is to draw up a working document that the school can use in order to help the child reach his or her full potential. As well as containing basic information about the child, it identifies the child’s strengths and weaknesses; outlines any extra support the child might need; and sets targets for the child to achieve during the term.

  On Tuesday morning I waited in reception at the school for Norman to arrive. I hadn’t met him before, but when a lone male came through the door I thought it might be him. This was confirmed when he told the school secretary he was Aimee’s social worker and here for her PEP meeting.

  ‘Hi, I’m Cathy Glass,’ I said, introducing myself when he’d finished at reception. Norman looked at me blankly. ‘Aimee’s foster carer,’ I clarified.

  ‘Oh, yes of course. Sorry, Cathy. I’ve had so many new cases and faces to learn that the names escape me sometimes. Pleased to meet you.’

  We shook hands. I guessed Norman was in his late thirties; he was short – not a lot taller than me – but broad-shouldered. There was an authority in his manner that I’d already noted in his voice when I’d spoken to him on the phone. ‘How is Aimee doing?’ he asked.