Innocent Page 9

  ‘So does her mother,’ Tess said bluntly. ‘You’re keeping a note of all of this and a food diary?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Aneta should be calmer this afternoon at contact. Filip took her to the doctor and he’s prescribed a light sedative.’ I felt for Aneta. The poor woman was so distraught at her children going into care that she was now being sedated to get through it. Surely this wasn’t the reaction of an abusive parent? For a split second I wondered if Molly could have been responsible for Kit falling downstairs.

  ‘Tess,’ I said, moving on, ‘the allergic reactions the children have that result in vomiting, diarrhoea, rashes, bruising and difficulty in breathing, could it be an inherited condition? It’s strange that both children have them.’

  ‘It was mentioned, but nothing has been identified. Neither of the parents have these symptoms, although it’s something the doctors may need to investigate further. I’ll know more when I’ve seen the medical reports.’

  While I accepted this, I had the feeling that Tess knew a little more than she was willing to say at present. Information-sharing with foster carers has improved tremendously since I first started fostering twenty-five years ago, but we are still told on a ‘need-to-know’ basis. Perhaps I didn’t need to know this – if indeed Tess was holding something back at all.

  I was watching the children eat their lunch as I talked to Tess. Kit was doing well feeding himself, although some of the sandwich had slid from his plate and onto the table. As Tess spoke I went over and put it back on his plate, smiling encouragingly at them both.

  ‘Aneta has asked me to tell you’, Tess continued, ‘that because the children are sensitive to germs, she disinfects everything they come into contact with every day. That includes their toys, cutlery, plates, mugs, the dining table and the furniture in their bedroom. She also washes their clothes, bed linen and towels every day.’

  My mouth dropped open in amazement as the children continued to eat at a table that, while clean, hadn’t been washed with disinfectant. The same applied to their plates, cutlery, the chairs they sat on and the rest of the house. ‘Are you asking me to do that?’ I asked in dismay. There weren’t enough hours in the day.

  ‘It seems a bit excessive,’ Tess conceded. ‘So use common sense. Follow good hygiene practice and make a note of any reactions the children may have.’ I breathed a sigh of relief. Clearly if something was identified I’d have to take more precautions, but for now I could continue as I had been. ‘What are the children doing now?’ Tess asked.

  ‘Having their lunch. I’ve already entered what they’re eating in the food diary.’

  ‘Good. I’ll phone Aneta now and get back to you about the medicines.’

  ‘I’ll be on my mobile after twelve-thirty as we have their medical at one o’clock and then contact at three. Tess, just something that’s crossed my mind as we’ve been talking, do Kit and Molly share a bedroom at home?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why? If Aneta thinks that Molly has been hurting Kit?’

  ‘They live in a two-bedroom flat and there isn’t room for the cot in their bedroom.’

  ‘But surely they would make space for his cot in another room – the living room, for example – if there’s a possibility Molly could be harming Kit?’

  ‘I agree,’ Tess said, and that was all she said. And again, I had the feeling that there was more to it. It didn’t make sense. If Aneta truly believed that Molly had been hurting Kit, she’d have found a way to separate them at night – presumably the only time they weren’t being watched. Why risk it?

  Chapter Nine

  Sick Again

  While Molly and Kit ate their lunch – they had yoghurt and fruit for dessert – I went through their bag of medicines again, checking the labels on each item, especially the prescription medication. I was worried I might have misread the instructions and the children had been without their medicine. I’d fostered children before who’d had to take medicine daily and I was meticulous in making sure they had it exactly as prescribed. This was all very confusing, but thankfully by the time I’d finished checking I knew I hadn’t made a mistake and all of Kit and Molly’s medicine was to be given as and when required. I was very relieved and I’d let Tess know when she telephoned.

  Once the children had finished lunch, I cleared away, wiped their hands and faces, changed Kit’s nappy and jersey and then we set off for the Health Centre. I’d taken children there before for medicals; most children who come into care have one. I explained to Molly and Kit where we were going and what a medical was. Some children who’ve had little contact with doctors are anxious at the thought of a medical, but for Molly, who was very used to doctors, it was like a day out. Kit, too young to know, just went along with it.

  ‘Did I go there with Mummy?’ Molly asked as I drove.

  ‘I don’t know, love, you might have done.’ The clinic was run by the National Health Service and as Kit and Molly’s home address was in the catchment area it was possible Aneta had taken them there.

  ‘Mummy?’ Kit asked from the back seat, having heard Molly talking about her.

  ‘You’ll see Mummy later,’ I said, glancing at him in the rear-view mirror.

  ‘I like doctors and nurses. They’re kind,’ Molly said after a moment.

  ‘Yes, they are,’ I agreed.

  As I drove, Molly started talking about hospitals, doctors and nurses and how Mummy liked them as they made people better. Molly was at her most talkative when it was something medical. I guessed because she and Kit had been ill so often it had played a huge part in their lives. I also knew it could have the opposite effect and that a child who spent a lot of time in hospitals could become phobic and distressed at the thought of another visit, but not so Molly.

  ‘Mummy says I’m a good girl when I go to the doctor’s,’ she continued as I pulled into the Health Centre’s car park.

  ‘Excellent.’

  ‘She gives me hugs and sweets if I’m good.’

  ‘I don’t have any sweets, but I can give you a hug,’ I said as we got out.

  Molly didn’t recognize the Health Centre, so I assumed she hadn’t been to this one before. I held their hands and we went into reception, where I gave the children’s names. The receptionist told us to take a seat in the waiting area and we would be called.

  ‘Am I ill?’ Molly asked me as we sat down.

  ‘No, love.’ I explained again that we’d come here for a medical and what it entailed.

  ‘Will I be sick?’ she asked as I put my mobile on silent.

  ‘No. The doctor will listen to your heart, weigh you, and check your eyes and ears.’ Which I’d said before. ‘Come on, let’s look at a book.’ I took one of the picture books from the table, and with Molly sitting beside me and Kit on my lap I began to read the story, pointing to the brightly coloured illustrations as Molly turned the pages. There were about a dozen other people waiting, some with children. The Health Centre ran various clinics.

  ‘We’re not allowed these books,’ Molly suddenly said, taking her hand from the page and sitting on it.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘They have germs that can make you sick.’

  ‘Is that what Mummy told you?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Well, in that case just listen to the story and look at the pictures, although I don’t think germs on this book will make you sick.’

  ‘Won’t you get sick?’ she asked, concerned.

  ‘No, and I don’t think you will either.’ Of course, at this stage I really didn’t know what could make Molly and Kit sick, but I thought it best to stay positive and not dwell on germs and sickness. I continued to read, with Kit looking at the pictures and Molly watching the other children, some of whom were playing with the toys provided.

  ‘Are they ill?’ she whispered after a while.

&nb
sp; ‘I think most of them will be here like you to make sure they stay healthy,’ I said, and thought again that Molly spent far too much time fixating on illness.

  Five minutes later Kit and Molly’s names and ‘Consulting Room 5’ flashed on the electronic display board. We stood, I returned the book to the table and, holding their hands, we went down the corridor to Room 5. A young female paediatrician greeted us with a welcoming smile. ‘I’m Doctor Robinson. You must be Molly and Kit. Come and sit down.’

  Beside her desk were two chairs and I took Kit onto my lap again as Molly sat beside me. There was silence for a few moments as Dr Robinson read from her computer screen. Until recently, the forms for medicals were sent in the post and had to be completed by hand, but now, in line with many other social services’ forms, they were usually completed using a secure online portal. As the foster carer, I wouldn’t normally have a copy of the social worker’s request for a medical or the doctor’s medical report.

  ‘So you’re the children’s foster carer?’ Dr Robinson said. ‘Can I take your contact details?’

  I told her.

  ‘And Molly is three and a half, and Kit is eighteen months,’ she confirmed. ‘I have their date of births as …’

  ‘Yes, that’s correct.’ She would have been given the basic details about the children and relevant background information.

  ‘How is Kit’s face healing?’ she asked, turning from the screen to look at him.

  ‘The swelling and bruising is going down,’ I said. ‘He had an appointment at the fracture clinic this morning and they’re going to replace the plaster cast with a splint tomorrow.’

  She nodded and typed.

  ‘How have they been since they came to you? Any sickness?’

  ‘Molly was sick once after contact on Friday, and felt sick on Saturday night but wasn’t. I’m keeping a food diary to try to identify any food allergies.’

  ‘Good,’ she said, and typed some more. ‘So no severe allergic reactions so far?’

  ‘No. Although Molly worries a lot about being sick and about germs, as she has been ill so often in the past.’

  ‘That’s understandable,’ Dr Robinson said. She finished typing and turned to Molly. ‘How are you feeling now?’

  Molly shrugged.

  ‘You look well enough to me,’ she said. ‘I’ll examine you first and then your brother.’

  Molly looked as though she’d just been given first prize in a competition and proudly took a step forward. Dr Robinson smiled and, taking an otoscope from the top drawer of her desk, checked Molly’s ears, then she removed a tongue depressor from a sealed packet and checked her throat and mouth. She asked her to read from a chart on the wall to check her eyesight and then weighed and measured her.

  ‘That’s fine,’ she said, returning to the computer to input the information. ‘She’s average weight and height.’

  She then took a stethoscope from her desk and, lifting up Molly’s top, listened to her chest and back. ‘That all sounds healthy,’ she said.

  Finally, she asked Molly to lie on the couch so she could examine her tummy. Molly was happy to oblige. ‘You are a good girl,’ the doctor praised her.

  ‘That’s what Mummy says.’

  The examination complete, Dr Robinson helped Molly from the couch, returned to her desk and typed up her findings, then asked me about Molly’s self-care skills, and if she went to the toilet regularly. She finished completing the form for Molly and then began the same examination for Kit as he sat on my lap.

  ‘Does he have any other bruising or swelling apart from on his face?’ she asked me.

  ‘There are some bruises on his legs,’ I said, and eased up his joggers to show her. She made a note.

  ‘And it’s his left arm that has the fracture,’ she said, glancing at him as she typed. ‘I’m assuming the social worker will have the hospital report.’

  ‘I believe so.’

  Kit was as good as gold as she examined him. He was too young to read from the wall chart to check his eyesight, so she asked him to point to a dog and then a house on a picture board, which he was able to do. ‘Do you have any concerns about his hearing or eyesight?’ she asked me.

  ‘No.’

  Once she’d finished she gave both children a sticker with a picture of a smiling face. I thanked her and we left.

  ‘Is it finished?’ Molly asked as we left the clinic, sounding almost disappointed.

  ‘Yes, that’s it. All done.’

  ‘It’s not like at the hospital.’

  ‘No. It’s a Health Centre.’

  It was now 2.20 p.m. and we had contact at 3.00. We returned to the car, but I didn’t drive away. I gave the children the drink and snack I’d packed, and checked my mobile, switching on the volume again. There were some WhatsApp messages from my children, a text from a friend, but nothing from their social worker, Tess. Once Kit and Molly had finished eating and drinking, I wiped their hands and faces and then drove to the Family Centre.

  ‘Mummy, Daddy,’ Kit said as I parked outside, clearly remembering the building from Friday.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Good boy. You’re seeing Mummy and Daddy in there.’

  Molly had fallen quiet and was looking worried. ‘I hope I’m not sick again,’ she said.

  ‘No, you won’t be,’ I said positively.

  Tess had said that Aneta had been prescribed a sedative by her doctor, so I was expecting her to be calmer and better able to deal with having to say goodbye to her children at the end of contact, although it was never going to be easy.

  I took their hands and we went up the path to the main entrance, where I pressed the security buzzer. Inside, the receptionist recognized the children from Friday and smiled at them. ‘Their parents are here in Blue Room,’ she said to me. ‘You can take them in.’ The centre tried to give the families the same room for each contact so it became familiar, but families weren’t allowed to leave belongings in the room between visits, as it was used by others.

  I signed in the Visitors’ Book and, taking the children by the hand again, headed down the corridor towards Blue Room. It’s usual for the foster carer to take the children into the room at the start of contact and then collect them from there at the end.

  The door to Blue Room was partially open. I knocked, and we went in. The contact supervisor was at the table, notepad open, and Filip and Aneta were sitting on the sofa. It was Filip who rushed to greet the children. ‘Hello!’ he cried and, scooping them into his arms, hugged them tightly. They clung to him, Kit’s little fists clutching his father’s shirt, and Molly covering his face in kisses. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said, burying his face in their hair. His voice was thick with emotion.

  ‘I’ve missed you, Daddy,’ Molly said.

  Aneta was sitting on the sofa watching them and I threw her a small smile, but she looked away, blanking me. I didn’t take it personally. I was used to parents ignoring me or being rude and aggressive. Sometimes our relationship improved with time, but not always. It helps the children if they can see their parents working with the foster carer.

  Having seen the children into the room, it was time for me to leave. This was the family’s time together and if the parents had anything to discuss with me they usually did so at the end.

  ‘See you later then,’ I said. ‘Have a nice time.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Filip said, while Aneta ignored me.

  I came out, closing the door behind me, and returned to reception where I signed out of the Visitors’ Book. There was enough time to make it worth my while going home, but as I started the engine my mobile rang. It was Tess, so I switched off the engine.

  ‘Are the children with their parents now?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. I’ve just seen them into the Family Centre.’

  ‘Sorry it’s taken me a while to get back to you.
I’ve spent most of the day on the phone trying to sort this out. Aneta didn’t want Kit’s plaster cast to be removed. She felt a splint would give him less protection if he fell again. She says he’s very accident prone. I’ve now spoken to the doctor you saw and I am satisfied it’s in Kit’s best interest to have the plaster cast replaced with a splint. He said it should heal just as well and will be more comfortable. The cast wouldn’t have been put on at all had it not been for Aneta’s insistence, so go ahead with the appointment tomorrow, but try not to let him have any more accidents,’ she added semi-jokingly.

  ‘He’s quite steady on his feet,’ I said. ‘He doesn’t seem to fall over any more than other children his age.’

  ‘That’s not what Aneta says. Obviously make a note of any accidents he has.’

  ‘Yes, I will.’ Foster carers have to log all accidents, illnesses and injuries just as schools, nurseries and child-minders do, whether medical assistance is sought or not.

  ‘Now, about the bag of medicines,’ Tess continued. ‘Aneta has confirmed they are to be taken as and when required, but she says they are needed most days as the children are ill so often. You’ll have to use common sense.’

  ‘OK, and the inhaler?’ I asked.

  ‘Sometimes when the children suffer an allergic reaction they get short of breath and that’s when the inhaler is needed. It was prescribed for Molly, but Aneta has been giving it to Kit too, which I told her she shouldn’t have done. Children should never share medicines, neither should adults. If you have any concerns, consult a doctor.’

  ‘Yes, of course. The children haven’t needed any medicine yet,’ I said. ‘They’ve had their medicals, and they went well.’

  ‘Good. I’ll have a look at the reports when they come through. I’ve now seen the contact supervisor’s report for Friday. Hopefully it will be better today.’

  ‘Yes, that reminds me. Could the contact supervisor make a note of everything the children eat and drink while they’re at contact so I can enter it in the food diary?’