Four Waifs on Our Doorstep (30 page)

‘I’ve spoken to the police to find out what the allegation was about,’ she said.

‘Was it Stacey?’ I asked.

‘Yes, and it’s a very serious allegation, I’m afraid.’ Mike’s face drained of colour. I suddenly felt a bit wobbly and had to hold on to the wall.

‘I need you to remember, Mike. Do not say a word.’

‘But that will make me look guilty,’ he protested. ‘I’m not guilty.’

‘No, but it’s not up to you to prove your innocence. They’ve got to prove what they’re accusing you of. It’s not your place to do their work for them. Let them do
their job, and they’ll find nothing.’

I could see that Mike was very uncomfortable with that. ‘We’d better go in,’ she said to Mike. ‘I don’t think they’ll want you there, Trisha.’

‘No, that’s OK. I’ve got some errands to do.’

I stood in the big glass doorway and watched them go to the counter, and then on towards the interview rooms. I felt so
anxious for poor Mike, who never did Stacey any harm. He always stuck up for her when she was in trouble. It must all be a big misunderstanding. I felt a bit calmer now, thinking it through.

‘How did it go?’ I asked him when he got back at lunchtime, looking ten years older. ‘What was it all about?’

He just stood and gazed at me, then started to tremble.

‘Here, sit down.’ I pulled out a chair for him and we sat down together at the breakfast-room table, my hand on his to steady him.

‘She’s accused me . . .’ His voice wavered as he tried to compose himself enough to continue. ‘She accused me of . . . sexually abusing her,’ he said, almost in a
whisper. ‘How could she do that to me?’ He looked like he was going to break down.

‘No!’ I shouted out loud, distraught. ‘That’s an evil lie. The worst thing she could think of. What a monstrous thing to do!’ I could hardly take it in.

Mike shook his head slowly from side to side, silent, his shoulders slouched and his eyes imploring.

‘I can’t believe she has done this to you, to us. I expect it’s just her way of getting back at me, as usual. It’s never you she wants to hurt. It’s me. She
probably thought the best way to hurt me was to attack you. She knew I would be much more upset if she put her sword into you.’

We sat, each immersed in our own damaging thoughts for a while. But the more I turned it over in my mind, the more angry I became.

‘When is this supposed to have happened?’

‘Lots of times,’ he said. ‘According to Stacey.’ He leaned his elbow on the table, with his hand to his forehead. ‘On Friday nights apparently, when she came with
me to get the fish and chips.’

‘But that’s ridiculous,’ I protested.

‘I know. That’s exactly what I said, but the solicitor stopped me saying anything else.’

‘So it’s Stacey’s word against yours?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, nobody will believe her story. Everyone knows what a liar she is. It’s written all over her school reports and her notes. And, of course, none of our friends or family will
believe her.’

‘But you know the saying,’ he replied wearily. ‘There’s no smoke without fire.’

‘I know a hundred per cent that it is definitely not true in your case, and I’m sure nobody will even think it.’

‘But she wrote a statement about it, saying I had tried to abuse Carrie as well.’

‘That just proves even more what lies she has told them. There is no way that could have happened without Carrie blurting it out. We all know that.’

‘But the police don’t. They want to see me again when they’ve investigated the allegation. Of course, they won’t find any evidence, but I have to go for more questioning
in a month’s time.’

We sat together in silence, horrified by the enormity of what Stacey had done. Mike had always been a calm, strong, dependable influence throughout our long and happy marriage. And the same in
all our lives. He had a great sense of fun. Now that had all been cruelly stripped away to leave a disillusioned, vulnerable shadow of himself.

‘How dare she do this to you?’ I said. ‘You’ve always been such a wonderful father, a brilliant dad to her and to all of them, and you’ve never moaned about her
lying and stealing, or anything else. Not once, no matter how far she pushed you.’

‘I did tease her that time, when she walked out, remember?’

‘Oh yes, but she’s always laughed when you’ve teased her before. She was looking for a trigger that day, an excuse to make her go. I’m sure she’s not getting back
at you for that. It’s me she wants to harm.’ I tried to stop the tears, but I couldn’t.

‘But you know what this means? I can’t ever be alone with any of the kids or our grandchildren again.’

‘That’s ridiculous. Of course you can. Just be your normal self and play with them like you usually do.’

‘But I can’t, don’t you see?’

The spark had gone out of him. His eyes were dull and he looked like he was in pain. He certainly was emotionally. We both were. Completely devastated.

‘I can’t put myself in the situation of being with any children, ever again.’

This was such an outrageous accusation. I knew with absolute certainty that Mike could never have done anything remotely connected to what Stacey had alleged. Not in a million years.

A few days went by, in which we were both under a huge amount of stress. I think Mike spent most of that first fortnight in a daze, numb with shock. On the other hand, I was fuming, full of
outrage on his behalf.

‘Do you think it will get in the papers?’ asked Mike one day.

‘I hope not!’

‘There’s no truth in it at all, but I wouldn’t want our friends to read about this.’

‘Don’t worry,’ I reassured him. ‘None of them would believe it.’

But we were both anxious all the same. It preyed on our minds and we could think of nothing else.

Out of the blue one morning, I received a letter from Katy, the solicitor for the children, telling us that Dr Boteral’s report had come in and she would send it to us,
but it was too late because the money had all been spent and there wasn’t enough left to take the children’s case to court. I couldn’t believe it. This was apparently something to
do with changes in legal aid, which meant there was about a hundred thousand pounds less than originally promised.

I rang her. ‘What are we going to do now?’

‘There isn’t anything you can do.’ She sounded very huffy with me.

‘Well, it’s not our fault. How could this happen? After all that time and work, why hasn’t it got to court? How can it be dropped now?’

She didn’t have an answer and, with everything else that was happening at the time, I just felt . . . I can’t do this any more.

After two weeks, Mike received an unexpected phone call, telling him the police interview had been cancelled, followed up by an official letter from the Local Constabulary:

‘Thank God,’ I said. ‘They’ve seen sense. What a huge relief. Now we can all try and put this behind us.’ I wasn’t sure we could, though I
tried to be upbeat for Mike.

‘But it doesn’t say I am innocent,’ he said in a small voice. ‘It just says they’re taking no further action. That leaves it all in the air, doesn’t it? It
means I’ll never be given the chance to clear my name.’

‘Oh!’ I hadn’t realised, but of course he was right. It was open-ended. ‘She’s got us either way, hasn’t she?’

One evening, a few days later, Mike hardly touched any of his dinner, and he looked very pale.

‘Are you feeling all right, love?’ I asked him.

‘Not too good,’ he admitted. ‘I think I’ll go up and have an early night. I expect I’ll be better in the morning.’

He must have fallen asleep, but a couple of hours later I heard him calling me.

‘What’s the matter?’ I asked as I went into the bedroom. But as soon as I saw him I could see how bad he looked, and he was clutching his chest.

‘I can’t breathe,’ he rasped.

‘Is it your lungs?’ He’d always had a weak chest due to a problem with one of his lungs when he was young.

‘No, I don’t think so,’ he whispered between laboured breaths. ‘Pain . . . down my arms . . . tight chest.’ He sounded very groggy.

‘Shall I call the doctor?’ I wasn’t sure how bad it was. ‘Or perhaps I’ll call Jane – she’ll know what to do.’

He nodded, gulping in mouthfuls of air.

‘Call 999,’ said Jane as soon as I told her. ‘He needs an ambulance. Tell them it’s an emergency.’

The ambulance arrived surprisingly quickly and the paramedics were wonderful. They knew exactly what they were doing. They got him on a stretcher and into the back. It was the early hours of the
morning by then.

‘He’s had a heart attack,’ said one of the crew in a calm, sympathetic voice. ‘We’ve got things under control and we’re monitoring him closely, so we’ll
go straight off now.’

‘Hop in,’ said the other one. ‘You can come with him if you want to.’

‘I can’t,’ I said. ‘I’ve got children asleep in the house. I can’t leave them alone.’

So off they went without me. A heart attack – from the stress of the allegation no doubt. The resentment and fear started to eat away at me. As I stood at the top of the drive in the
moonlight, watching the white ambulance disappear into the darkness at the other end, Sam and Carrie both came outside to join me.

‘What was all the noise?’ asked Sam, stifling a yawn. All the comings and goings must have woken the kids and by the time they got up to see what was happening Mike was already on
his way to hospital.

‘Where’s Dad?’ asked Carrie.

‘Come back inside and I’ll tell you.’ I put my arms round each of them and took them into the breakfast room. ‘Dad wasn’t feeling too good. He’s had a bit of
a turn, so they’ve taken him to hospital to keep an eye on him,’ I explained, not wanting to alarm them too much at this time of night. ‘Let’s all have a hot drink, then
back to bed.’

When they’d gone, bleary-eyed, back upstairs, I sat in the breakfast room on my own. I felt bad that I hadn’t gone with him. But how could I? Mike knew that. Everyone knew how these
kids could kick off, even when it was just Carrie and Sam. And they still had frequent nightmares, even after all these years. I couldn’t leave them on their own.

I thought of Mike back in those days when those four waifs had first come to us. Fit and well he had been, full of fun, and then how pale and grey he had looked that evening, how he had
struggled to breathe, and his hand on his chest. What’s happening now? I thought. Please God he hasn’t got any worse. Or maybe he has. What if he dies? He’s going to die . . .

It was all Stacey’s fault. That was what broke him, the man who had always stuck up for her. She might as well have knifed him in the back. I’m not a vengeful person, but right then,
that night, I felt I could never forgive her for bringing Mike to this. If he died, it would be her fault.

I don’t know how long I sat there in the darkness, with only the moonlight streaming in through the window. I was cold and alone, worrying about Mike. I knew I couldn’t go to bed. I
couldn’t sleep. I didn’t dare to, in case Mike died. If I went to sleep he might die. I had to stay awake and will him to stay alive, to get better. It was a long, lonely night, going
over memories, thinking of other people I loved who had gone off in ambulances. I never saw some of them again. Would Mike still be alive in the morning?

Thank God, I needn’t have worried so much. As soon as I’d dropped the kids off at their schools, I went in to see Mike in Intensive Care. He had an oxygen mask on
to help with his breathing and that was much better now. He had various other bits and pieces on him – a drip in his arm, a cannula in the back of his hand and pads stuck to his chest, with
various monitors and beepers and numbers flashing. Well, that’s how I remember it anyway. It all looked very daunting, but he had a much healthier colour now and he gave me a lovely smile
when he saw me, so I did feel better for being there, for seeing him myself.

Gradually throughout that first day, the others came to join me and we all sat around his bed – Jane, Brett and Laura, our grown-up foster daughter Anna, Carrie, Sam and me. My other
daughter Sally came up from Portsmouth as well.

He was soon out of Intensive Care and making good progress, which was a great relief. I knew he was on the mend when he started joking with the nurses. But I couldn’t stop feeling it was
all Stacey’s fault. We could have lost Mike because of her malicious accusation and we all knew it.

‘I don’t ever want to see Stacey again,’ said Jane, ‘not after what she’s done to Dad.’

Everyone agreed. And as for me, I couldn’t bring myself to forgive her, no matter how hard I tried. She could have killed Mike, and damn nearly did.

Finally he was allowed home to convalesce and soon began to resume his old routines, with regular walks to follow doctors’ orders.

One afternoon, while he was upstairs resting, the phone rang. It was Jane in a panic.

‘Mum, the solicitor’s just phoned. The agency buyers are not going to pay us.’

‘But they’ve got to pay us.’

‘In this paperwork it says that if eight or more carers left in one year, they wouldn’t pay us.’

‘Well, that’s never happened.’

‘Yes it has,’ she explained in a brittle voice. ‘Our carers’ contracts had to go through to them before completion of the sale, and they immediately sacked eight of
them.’

‘But they can’t do that!’ It was my turn to panic now. This money was going towards all my children and grandchildren’s university fees. The remainder of the deposit
would only just cover the legal and financial fees of the sale, nothing more.