by Cathy Glass
‘Have you been able to find Lucy’s record book showing her checks and vaccinations?’ Doris now asked, for when the health visitor had asked to see it Bonnie had said she wasn’t sure where it was and that she’d try to find it. She’d also told the health visitor she couldn’t remember if Lucy’s development checks and vaccinations were up-to-date, which had added to the health visitor’s concerns.
‘No,’ Bonnie said. ‘I can’t find the record book.’
‘All right, don’t worry. Your previous doctor will have a record of all of that. We’ll arrange to have your notes transferred to your current doctor. This is your permanent address now?’
Bonnie nodded.
‘So what was the name and address of your last doctor?’ Doris now asked, pen poised to note this.
‘I can’t remember,’ Bonnie said, biting her little nail.
‘A street name and town will do. We can trace it from that.’
‘I don’t know,’ Bonnie said again. ‘I’ll find out.’
Doris knew it was impossible not to know the name of the town that you’d lived in a few months previously, unless you had severe learning difficulties, which Bonnie did not. She wondered what it was that Bonnie was trying to hide or run away from.
‘Do you know the name of the hospital where Lucy was born?’ Doris now asked. ‘They’ll have details of your doctor.’
‘St Mary’s, I think,’ Bonnie said.
‘In which town?’
Bonnie shrugged and continued to nibble her little finger. St Mary’s was the most common name for a hospital and Doris knew it would be impossible to trace the one where Lucy was born without knowing the town or at least the area. Bonnie was playing games with her.
‘It can be very isolating living in a new town with a young baby,’ Doris said evenly, changing direction. ‘I understand the health visitor gave you some details of the mother and baby groups in this area.’
‘Yes,’ Bonnie said.
‘Do you think these are somewhere you might go? It would be good for Lucy’s development and will also give you a chance to meet other young mothers and make some friends.’
‘Yes,’ Bonnie said.
‘And how do you feel in yourself?’ Doris now asked.
‘OK,’ Bonnie said with a shrug.
‘Are you sure? You seem a bit down to me.’
‘I’m fine. I’m coping.’
‘Only coping?’ Doris asked, hoping this might lead the way in, but Bonnie just looked back and nodded.
‘Can you talk me through your average day, from when you get up in the morning?’ Doris said.
Bonnie looked at her.
‘Start with when you get up?’ Doris prompted. ‘What time is that usually?’ She knew that those suffering from severe depression often stayed in bed for very long periods, sometimes most of the day.
‘About now I guess,’ Bonnie said.
‘Then what happens? Do you shower and dress or go back to bed?’
‘We have breakfast,’ Bonnie said.
‘Lovely,’ Doris said, trying to give positive feedback wherever she could. ‘What do you have?’
‘Lucy has milk and I have a cup of tea.’
‘Nothing else?’
‘I give Lucy porridge as well.’
‘Good. Has she had her porridge this morning?’
‘No, only milk. You came before I had time to give her porridge,’ Bonnie said.
Doris wrote and then smiled at Lucy.
‘Then what do you do after breakfast?’ she asked, looking at Bonnie.
Bonnie shrugged. ‘Nothing really. We go out sometimes.’
‘Where do you like to go?’
‘To the shops sometimes, or the canal. I walk by the canal. I like it there, with the deep water.’ Doris gave an involuntary shudder and made a note, for in her present state of mind it wouldn’t take much, she thought, for this young mother who clearly wasn’t coping to step into the canal with her daughter and end it all. She agreed with the health visitor that while there were no obvious signs that the mother was harming her child, the level of care was so low that this in itself was a form of abuse. Mother and baby needed help.
‘What do you do for the rest of the day?’ Doris now asked.
‘We come home.’
‘And?’
Bonnie shook her head.
‘Why don’t you see your aunt any more?’ Doris asked. ‘She’s been worried about you.’
‘I dunno. She has her own family.’
‘But she’d still like to see you as well. Do you think you might be able to start seeing her again? Go round for dinner? She’d like you to.’
Bonnie nodded, but not very convincingly.
Doris glanced at Lucy, who was looking up at her, her large eyes round and imploring. ‘Can I pick her up?’ Doris asked. She knew better than to simply pick up a client’s child, without asking the parent first. Social workers were often seen as the enemy and she wouldn’t be the first social worker to be assaulted for touching a client’s child.
Bonnie gave a stiff, indifferent nod and Doris bent down and lifted Lucy onto her lap. She was light, Doris thought, lighter than she should be for ten and a half months old. She hadn’t had a bath and was wearing the same vest, so there was still a smell of ammonia coming from Lucy, which would probably transfer to her skirt, but she kept a change of clothes in the car for just such eventualities; that, and having drinks or worse thrown at her by angry parents.
‘Who’s a lovely girl then?’ Doris said to Lucy.
Lucy looked at her but didn’t smile.
‘Is she smiling and trying to talk?’ Doris asked, glancing at Bonnie.
‘Yes,’ Bonnie said. ‘Sometimes,’ although there’d been no evidence of either since Doris had been with her.
‘Come on then,’ Doris said cheerfully to them both, standing. ‘Show me around your flat. Let’s start with the kitchen.’
‘There’s nothing much to see,’ Bonnie said, rising to her feet with a small sigh.
‘Never mind. I just need to have a quick look round.’
It was clear that the nature of the social worker’s visit had changed from ‘a chat’ to a scrutinizing assessment, and Doris could sense that Bonnie was trying to stifle her rising fear that she was about to lose her baby.
‘I’m going shopping later,’ Bonnie said, as they entered the small kitchen.
Doris opened the door of the fridge, revealing only a carton of milk and two yoghurts. She then opened the doors to the cupboards, but all they contained were some crockery and pans supplied by the landlord, and a packet of porridge, some biscuits and a few tea bags.
‘What does Lucy drink from?’ Doris asked. ‘Can she use a trainer cup?’
‘No. She has a bottle. It’s in her cot,’ Bonnie said.
Still carrying Lucy, Doris left the kitchen, had a quick look in the bathroom, which, while basic, was functional, and then returned to the living room. Doris passed Lucy to Bonnie and they returned to their chairs. Doris looked at Bonnie carefully.
‘I have concerns, love,’ she said evenly. ‘I think Lucy isn’t doing as well as she could, and I think you are finding things difficult too. I want to help you.’ She paused and waited for Bonnie’s reaction, but there was none. ‘When I return to my office I’m going to arrange what’s called a case conference so I can work out how best to support you and Lucy. Don’t look so worried, I’m not going to take Lucy away. But you will need to make some changes, all right, love?’
Bonnie nodded. ‘I know,’ she said, though by now she sounded like she’d agree to anything just to get rid of Doris.
‘One of the options might be for you and Lucy to live in a mother-and-baby unit for a while, where you will be shown parenting skills and monitored. Or – and I will need to discuss this with my manager – you could stay here with support. You’d be monitored and assessed and would need to attend parenting classes.’
Bonnie nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said.
&nb
sp; ‘Good. I’ll go now and I’ll phone you later today, after I’ve discussed the options with my manager. Can I have your phone number please?’
Bonnie reeled off eleven digits as Doris wrote.
‘Thanks,’ Doris said with a reassuring smile. ‘I’ll leave the two of you to have your porridge now and we’ll speak later.’
Bonnie nodded and, carrying Lucy, went with Doris to the front door and saw her out. As Doris left the building she was already calling her office. Although she wouldn’t be taking Lucy into care today, the mother would need to start cooperating and making some changes, otherwise she’d have no alternative but to apply to the court for a care order. While this wasn’t the worst case of neglect Doris had seen – far from it – she agreed with the health visitor that the warning signs were there, and without intervention she had little doubt Lucy’s situation would deteriorate further.
Three hours later, having spoken with her manager, Doris phoned Bonnie to arrange a meeting. An automated voice message told her the number was unobtainable, so Doris concluded that Bonnie had either accidentally or deliberately given her the wrong number. As Bonnie and Lucy’s case wasn’t the most urgent she was responsible for, and her caseload was so heavy she had to prioritize, Doris set in motion the case conference and then put Bonnie’s file to one side to concentrate on another, more pressing case. She decided to call in on Bonnie on her way home from work, check the phone number and advise her of the date of the meeting. It would also give her another chance to see how they were doing.
When Doris returned to Bonnie’s flat at 5.45 p.m. and rang the bell there was no reply. She was about to call through the letter box when the door to the flat next door opened and the elderly lady Doris had seen that morning appeared.
‘She’s gone,’ the woman said bluntly, as if it was Doris’s fault. ‘Packed her bags and left with the baby about an hour after you left this morning.’
‘I don’t suppose you know where they’ve gone?’ Doris asked, her heart sinking.
‘No. Like I said, she never spoke to me.’ And, returning inside, she closed her front door.
Chapter Seven
No Chance to Say Goodbye
It may seem incredible in this age, when there is so much data stored on people, that someone could simply disappear. But on that fine June day when the sun was shining and the air was alive with birdsong, and Lucy was nearly eleven months old, that is what Bonnie did. Fearing Lucy would be taken away from her, she quickly packed her bags and vanished. Had Lucy been the subject of a court order the police would have been alerted, and a missing person bulletin put out. But there was no court order, only a concern of neglect, the level of which hadn’t merited the measure of applying to the court for an emergency protection order. It’s true that the social services could have applied for a court order after Bonnie had gone, but they didn’t, presumably for the same reason one hadn’t been applied for before: that though Lucy had been neglected she wasn’t, as yet, at risk of significant harm – the threshold that needed to be reached before the social services applied for a care order. Had they done so, the police would have been alerted, resulting in a better chance of finding Bonnie and Lucy, and Lucy would have been taken into care.
With no court order and no verifiable details of Bonnie that might have helped trace her, it is likely their case stayed open at the social services for a few months – while Doris checked with Maggie and local agencies to see if anyone had heard from Bonnie – before being filed away until such time as Bonnie and Lucy reappeared. It’s on record that Maggie told Doris she’d telephoned her sister a couple of times during this period to see if she’d heard from Bonnie, but she hadn’t, and Maggie said her sister was so immersed in her own problems that she had little interest in what her daughter and granddaughter were doing or even in whether they were safe.
With no evidence to go on, it’s impossible to know of the life Bonnie and Lucy led during the next fourteen months while they were ‘missing’, but one can guess. Living ‘underground’, away from the attention of the authorities, relies on a hand-to-mouth existence, funded by cash-in-hand jobs if you are lucky, but more likely, borrowing, begging, stealing, prostitution and sleeping wherever you can: in doorways, under bridges, in squats, on someone’s floor, in cheap bed and breakfasts, or in beds with no breakfast. It would have been even more difficult with a baby, but unregistered, unregulated and unscrupulous landlords can be found down the backstreets of any big city, their clientele hearing of their location by word of mouth. These ‘landlords’ cram as many mattresses into a room as it will hold and charge only a few pounds for the night. They are always full. Not only with runaways, but the short- and long-term homeless, drug addicts, alcoholics, those with mental-health problems and criminals wanted by the police – of all ages and both sexes. Such places are health hazards and are often responsible for passing on infections; for example, tuberculosis. With no fire escapes they can also be death traps. But if you are avoiding the authorities as Bonnie was, you are unable to obtain benefit money without risk of being discovered.
When Bonnie and Lucy reappeared, fourteen months later, it was in the Accident and Emergency department of a hospital two counties away. It was a Friday afternoon and they were both suffering from highly inflamed rashes that covered large areas of their bodies. They were diagnosed as having scabies. Scabies is caused by parasites burrowing under the skin and laying their eggs. It is most commonly found in those living in overcrowded conditions with poor hygiene. The irritation caused by the infestation is unbearable and most sufferers go to their doctor in the early stages of the disease. The doctor at the hospital noted that these cases were very severe, especially in the child, and had clearly been left untreated for some time, causing the child a lot of distress. The doctor prescribed a lotion, which had to be applied after a bath from the neck down to the toes, left on overnight and then washed off. He explained to Bonnie that a second treatment would be needed a week after the first and told her to go to her own doctor to get the prescription for it and also to have their condition checked. He was concerned that some of the child’s sores were becoming infected, so he also prescribed an antibiotic cream. He explained that scabies was highly contagious and all clothing, bedding and towels used by them must be washed in very hot water and dried in a hot dryer to prevent another infestation. When registering at the hospital, Bonnie had given her address as the flat she’d lived in near her Aunt Maggie and her doctor as the one she’d seen when she’d first arrived at Maggie’s. It is unknown if Bonnie took Lucy to a doctor for a follow-up appointment; she certainly didn’t go to that doctor.
Bonnie and Lucy then disappeared again and reappeared when Lucy was nearly three years old. Bonnie was now living with a man in his thirties called Freddie – and using his surname for her and Lucy. She registered Lucy at a nursery so she could start just after her third birthday, and two nursery teachers made a home visit prior to Lucy starting. These home visits are normal practice in England; they are informal, last about half an hour and give the mother and child a chance to meet the nursery teachers and ask any questions. However, these two teachers were very worried by what they found, especially as their visit had been pre-arranged and was therefore expected. The one-bedroom flat was dirty, smelly and cluttered with bits of car engines, empty beer bottles, plastic fizzy-drink bottles, old pizza boxes and empty crisp packets, all of which Lucy was encouraged to play with in the absence of any children’s toys. There were no beds: Lucy slept with her mother and Freddie under blankets on mattresses on the bedroom floor; none of the rooms in the flat had carpets or curtains. There was a used cat-litter tray in the kitchen, which was badly in need of emptying, and the kitchen and bathroom were filthy. The nursery teachers also later noted that the flat reeked of stale beer, cigarette smoke and a slightly sweet smell, which could have been cannabis.
During their conversation, Bonnie admitted that she was struggling to cope and, far from being supportive, Freddie – who was
n’t present – spent most of his unemployment money on betting, so they never had enough to eat or pay the bills. They were behind with the rent and the landlord was threatening to evict them. Bonnie told the nursery teachers that she and Freddie often argued and he sometimes hit her – in front of Lucy. The teachers noted that Lucy was grubby, small for her age and afraid of strangers. They couldn’t say much about her development from their visit as she hid behind the sofa all the time they were there. When one of them tried to coax her out, she screwed her eyes shut and screamed. Bonnie said they should just leave her there as she was scared of strangers because of some bad experiences they’d had, although she didn’t say what these experiences were. Bonnie also said she hoped Lucy would learn to be less frightened of strangers when she went to nursery and ‘met some nice people’.
The nursery teachers were with Bonnie for over an hour and when they returned to the nursery they immediately held a meeting with their head teacher to report their concerns. The head teacher contacted the social services and two days later a social worker telephoned Bonnie and made an appointment to visit her the following day. Although Bonnie knew in advance that the social worker was visiting (as she had with the nursery teachers), she made no attempt to clean the flat, so it was in much the same condition as the teachers had reported. Freddie was there when the social worker arrived but left straight away, pushing past her in the hall without saying hello.
Bonnie admitted to the social worker that she wasn’t coping and said she felt very low and thought she was suffering from depression, although she hadn’t been to a doctor. The social worker explained to Bonnie that there were concerns about Lucy and tried to persuade Bonnie to see a doctor for her depression. They then discussed various options with regard to Lucy’s care. She was relieved that Bonnie was cooperative and quickly agreed that it would be best if Lucy went into care temporarily as an ‘accommodated child’ (under Section 20 of the Children Act). Often referred to as a ‘Section 20’, this is a voluntary arrangement between the social services and the parent(s) of a child who agree to the child living with a foster carer for a short time. The parent(s) retain full legal parental rights, which they wouldn’t do under any other care order. Approximately a third of children in foster care are ‘accommodated’. There is no court order and the arrangement should encourage a better working relationship between the social worker, the parent(s) and the foster carer. The parent(s) feel less threatened as they retain legal control of their child, have regular and unsupervised contact and can remove the child from foster care at any time. It is supposed to be a short-term measure and should never be used when a child is in danger of being abused; only when there is a good chance of the child being rehabilitated back to live with the parent(s) within a reasonable period.