Authors: Cathy Glass
Will You Love Me? (9 page)
Annie wrote in her log notes that it was three days before Lucy ate anything, and then it was a yoghurt. She also stated that Lucy screamed hysterically when Annie’s support social worker visited, when Annie’s husband returned from work, when the postman rang the doorbell and when a friend of Annie’s stopped by in the evening. It was clear (as Bonnie had said) that Lucy must indeed have had some bad experiences with strangers to make her so scared. As well as noting the bruise on Lucy’s cheek in her log notes, Annie also mentioned it to the social worker. She subsequently asked Bonnie how Lucy had got the bruise and Bonnie replied that Lucy had tripped and fallen at the flat the day before. Perhaps she had. There was no way to know.
It soon became clear to Annie that Lucy wasn’t used to a routine of any sort, so Annie began establishing one, explaining to Lucy why it was important that we wash, brush our teeth each morning and evening and eat regular meals. On day five Annie introduced bath time into Lucy’s evening routine, and although Lucy shied away from the bath to begin with – as Annie turned on the taps and ran the water – after a lot of persuading and cajoling Lucy climbed in. Once she was in and felt the warm water lapping around her she began to relax and then actually enjoyed her bath, playing with the bath toys that Annie provided, while Annie washed her hair, which was very dirty. By the end of that first week Lucy had begun responding slightly more to Annie and her family, saying the odd word, pointing to what she wanted and answering their questions with a nod or a shake of her head, pretty much as a one-year-old child would.
Annie desperately needed to go shopping to buy clothes for Lucy as hardly anything in the carrier bag that Bonnie had brought with her was usable. Annie was dressing Lucy in the clothes she kept for emergency placements, but she wanted to buy new things so Lucy would have clothes of her own. However, she knew from her foster-carer training that, as a deprived child, Lucy shouldn’t be subjected to too many new experiences all at once, as she would panic and it could set back her recovery. On day eight, just over a week after Lucy had arrived, when she was crying less and letting the girls take her by the hand and spend a little time playing in the back garden, Annie decided to risk taking her shopping. She explained to Lucy where they were going and why and Lucy nodded in response. But once in the shopping centre, Lucy was so scared of all the people, noise and lights that she wouldn’t let Annie put her down and had to be carried everywhere. Annie kept their shopping trip short and just bought the essentials. Later Annie noted that Lucy’s life seemed to have been so confined and limited that even a routine shopping trip scared her, and she wondered if Lucy had ever been shopping before.
Gradually, over the coming days, weeks and then months, Annie introduced Lucy to new experiences: playing in the park and feeding the ducks, for example; as well as slowly getting her used to meeting people – Annie’s extended family, friends and other children. To begin with Lucy had no idea how to play or interact with other children, presumably because she’d never mixed. Any thoughts of nursery were put on hold as Lucy would never have coped, so Annie began taking her to a mother-and-toddler group two afternoons a week where Annie stayed while Lucy slowly found the confidence to leave her lap and tentatively play with the other children. Although the children were much younger than Lucy, Lucy was so far behind in her development that she could relate to them a little, rather than to children her own age.
Annie had registered Lucy at her doctor’s and Lucy subsequently had a medical, and also a developmental check-up. Physically, Lucy was small for her age – probably as a result of poor nutrition – but equally worrying was that she had a vocabulary of only ten words, a milestone usually reached by a child at eighteen months. However, the good news was that the tests appeared to show Lucy had normal intelligence, so it was hoped that with a lot of help she would eventually be able to catch up with her peers. Speech therapy was suggested and Lucy was put on the waiting list. At home, Annie continued with the work she’d already begun to develop Lucy’s skills, experiences and language – through play and by talking to her and encouraging her to talk back. It is to Annie’s credit that Lucy improved as much as she did during the time she was with her.
Lucy’s new doctor applied for Lucy’s medical notes, but all that came back was the record of the visit Bonnie and Lucy had made to Maggie’s doctor. Their visit to the Accident and Emergency department at the hospital didn’t show up, presumably because of the way visits were logged and recorded at that time. Also, there was no record of Lucy having had any of her infant vaccinations, and when Bonnie was asked if she’d had them she said she couldn’t remember. So, with Bonnie’s consent, over the next six months Annie took Lucy to the clinic for the vaccinations she should have had as a baby.
Annie had been telephoning Bonnie every evening to reassure her that Lucy was all right, and if she didn’t answer – which was often – she left a message for her. After a few weeks the social worker told Annie she should stop, as the emphasis was on Bonnie telephoning Annie to find out how her daughter was doing – it would be seen as an indication of her level of commitment and how serious she was in wanting her daughter back. Annie did as she was told and Bonnie fell into the pattern of phoning once a week and visiting Lucy about once every ten days. Bonnie usually stayed for a whole morning or afternoon and never wanted to take Lucy out, even when the weather was good. Bonnie seemed to enjoy the comforts of Annie’s home and being looked after as much as Lucy. Annie formed the impression that Bonnie wasn’t a vicious or uncaring mother, but had had such a bad start in life herself and now had so many problems of her own that she struggled to look after a child. Annie also noted that sometimes she thought she could smell cannabis on Bonnie’s clothes when she came into the house, but obviously she didn’t know if Bonnie was a user or not.
Lucy improved dramatically in the eight months she lived with Annie and her family. She gradually lost her fear of strangers, began playing and talking more, and was starting to catch up with her peer group. Annie took lots of photographs of Lucy during this time and some of the most poignant are of Lucy’s third birthday and her first proper Christmas, where the look of astonishment and sheer joy on her face says it all. She was clearly overwhelmed, having never experienced anything like it before. Annie also took photographs of Bonnie and Lucy together, some of which she framed and put in Lucy’s room, to keep the memory of her mother alive between visits. She gave Bonnie copies of the photographs and Bonnie thanked her profusely. She was really touched, having never had a photograph of her daughter before; she’d never been able to afford a camera. Lucy clearly became very secure and settled with Annie and began calling her mummy, although Annie always corrected her and said: ‘I’m Annie. You’ll be seeing mummy next Tuesday’ – or whenever it was she would be seeing her, and pointed to Bonnie’s photograph.
Although Annie and her family knew that Lucy’s stay was likely to be temporary on a Section 20, and that once Bonnie had sorted out her life she would want her daughter back, Annie had reasonably assumed that the transition to return Lucy to her mother would be gradual. Bonnie would visit more often and then take her daughter home for short periods that would eventually include overnight stays and finally lead to a move home. This is how a planned move should be done for any child in care to minimize disruption and confusion for the child.
It therefore came as a great shock when, in the middle of one morning when Lucy had been with Annie for just over eight months, Annie answered the telephone to Bonnie who told her she would be coming to take Lucy that afternoon. Bonnie said she now had a new partner – Dave – who treated her right, and they wanted to be together as a family. Annie was shocked, upset and very concerned about the effect a sudden move would have on Lucy. She tried to persuade Bonnie that they should speak to the social worker and arrange a more gradual move – for Lucy’s sake. But Bonnie was adamant and knew her rights. She said she’d already told the social worker that she and Dave would be coming for Lucy that afternoon, and asked Annie to have Lucy ready by one o’clock. As soon as Bonnie hung up Annie called the social worker, who confirmed that Bonnie had telephoned her and that, although she would have preferred a gradual reintroduction, as Lucy was placed under a Section 20 Bonnie was free to take Lucy whenever she wanted to. She added that Bonnie had given her their new address and she would be visiting them to make sure all was well. If she had any concerns, Lucy would be brought back into care – preferably with Bonnie’s agreement, but if necessary with a court order. This reassured Annie a little, but not much.
With a very heavy heart, fighting back tears and trying to put on a brave face for Lucy’s sake, Annie used the little time they had left together to try and prepare Lucy for going to live with her mother and Dave, as well as packing all Lucy’s clothes and toys, of which there were now many. Lucy became very quiet and withdrawn, refused lunch and then asked Annie why she had to go. When Annie explained that her mummy loved her and she wanted her to live with her in her new home Lucy said: ‘Can’t Mummy come and live here with us?’
Clearly that wasn’t possible and it was very difficult to try and explain this, and why she was suddenly having to leave, to a small child. Annie then spent the next hour cuddling Lucy on her lap and reading her stories to try to distract her until the doorbell rang at one o’clock. Lucy went with Annie to answer the door. Bonnie was in the porch, and parked outside was an old white van with its engine running and a man – presumably Dave – waiting in the driver’s seat.
‘Come and meet your new daddy,’ Bonnie said, taking Lucy by the hand.
Giving Annie and Lucy no chance to say goodbye, Bonnie hurried Lucy down the path towards the van. She put Lucy in the front and slammed the door shut. She then returned for Lucy’s belongings, which Annie had ready in bags and boxes in the hall. Without any thanks for all Annie had done or a promise to stay in touch and let Annie know how Lucy was, Bonnie began loading the van. Annie helped her. The rear of the van contained decorating materials, so Annie assumed Dave was a painter and decorator. He didn’t turn or say hello.
Once all Lucy’s belongings were in the van, Bonnie shut the rear door while Dave stayed in the van. Bonnie said a terse goodbye to Annie and climbed into the front of the van next to Lucy. Lucy was small, and, as she was sandwiched between the adults, Annie couldn’t see her from the pavement, but she waved anyway. With Lucy now gone, there was no need for Annie to put on a brave face any longer and by the time she reached her front door she was crying openly. Not only for the uncertainty that Lucy faced, but for her own loss and that of her family, who would come home and find Lucy gone, having not been able to say goodbye.
Chapter Eight
Mrs Bridges stood at the front of her class of six-year-olds and waited for them to finish packing away their worksheets before dismissing them for morning break. It was mid-September and two weeks into the new school term, before the coughs and colds had taken hold, so none of the children was absent. Thirty boys and girls, seated around five tables, were looking back at her and still smart in their new school uniforms. Some, though, looked smarter than others, for even behind the school uniforms it was obvious to Mrs Bridges – as it was to the other children in the class – who came from comfortably well-off, nurturing families and who did not. A second-hand uniform that accumulated a week’s stains before it was washed; cheap plastic shoes that tore rather than scuffed; hair that was long, matted or unevenly short from a home cutting; and faces that were slightly grimy from missing the morning wash. But it wasn’t only appearance that singled out a child from an impoverished home; it was the personality of the child too – either loud and attention-seeking or quiet and withdrawn. Mrs Bridges’s gaze fell upon the table to her left and two of the children who sat there: Sammy and Lucy, who had joined the school last year within a week of each other and were now inseparable.
‘Off you go then,’ Mrs Bridges said, dismissing the class for morning break.
The usual clamour of excited voices rose as chairs scraped back and children jostled each other out of the classroom, eager to make the most of every moment in the playground. All the children except one, who having put his chair under the table remained standing behind it.
Mrs Bridges smiled at Sammy. ‘I haven’t got any jobs for you to do this morning,’ she said kindly. ‘Go and join your friends in the playground and get some fresh air. It’s a nice day.’
Jabbing his hands into his trouser pockets, Sammy came out from behind the table and took a couple of steps towards his teacher. ‘I will, Miss, but can I talk to you first please?’
Mrs Bridges paused from collecting the worksheets and looked at him. She always made time for Sammy. He was a thin lad with a shaved head, and as the eldest of five children in a one-parent family he had far more responsibility than he could cope with. His frustrations got the better of him sometimes, when he vented his anger in the classroom, but underneath he was a kind lad. The social services were involved with his family and had put in support to try and keep them together, but it wasn’t looking very hopeful.
‘Of course you can talk to me. How’s your mum doing?’ Mrs Bridges asked.
Sammy gave a small dismissive shrug. ‘All right, I guess. But it’s not me I want to talk about.’
‘No?’
He perched on the edge of the table, his face fixed and serious. ‘It’s about Lucy, Miss.’
‘Your friend Lucy, in this class?’ Mrs Bridges clarified.
‘Yes, Miss. She needs to tell you herself. I’ve told her she has to. But she can’t, she’s too shy.’
‘Tell me what?’ Mrs Bridges said, setting aside the papers to give Sammy her full attention. As an experienced teacher she’d developed a sixth sense for knowing when a child was just telling tales or about to tell her something important.