Girl Alone: Joss came home from school to discover her father’s suicide

by Cathy Glass

  ‘No, I mean he’s there as in she’s married to him. It’s different now. They are a couple and she tells him everything. I don’t want her talking to him about my daddy. It’s nothing to do with him.’

  I could understand why Joss was so protective of her father’s memory, but I obviously couldn’t tell Linda not to tell Eric.

  ‘You feel very rejected by your mother remarrying, don’t you?’ I said gently.

  Joss nodded.

  ‘Joss, I can understand why you feel you can’t live with your mum and stepfather at present, but don’t let it ruin your life. You know how concerned your mother and I are about your unsafe behaviour, and it wouldn’t please your father if he knew. You want him to be as proud of you now as he was when you were little and he was here on earth, don’t you?’

  ‘I do, Cathy,’ Joss said. Then with a small sob she leant against me and began crying openly. I put my arm around her and held her close.

  This was the first time Joss had shown her feelings or wanted me to comfort her, and I thought it was a very positive development. A big step towards releasing the pain and suffering she’d held deep inside for so long – since the day she’d arrived home from school at the age of nine and walked into the garage to discover her father’s suicide.

  I held Joss close while she cried silently for many minutes, and it’s true to say I felt very close to her – the empathy that comes from sharing another person’s pain. I also felt grateful that my own life had been so easy and pain-free. Yes, I’d had a few downers – my husband leaving, for one – but I had loving parents and a happy family life, so I hadn’t suffered as Joss had, or as many of the children I’d fostered had, for many different reasons.

  Joss’s tears eventually subsided and she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. It was nearly 3 a.m. ‘Do you think you can get some sleep now?’ I asked her quietly.

  She nodded. ‘Thanks for being here.’

  I smiled. ‘Joss, you know you can talk to me any time – day or night. I’m always here to help you.’

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘So, starting from tomorrow, will you try to get your life back on course, for your father’s sake? He really wouldn’t want to see you angry and unhappy and behaving as you have been, would he?’

  ‘No, I guess not,’ Joss said. ‘I’ll try.’ And I was sure she meant it.

  ‘Good girl,’ I said. I gave her another hug and then she lay back down in bed.

  ‘Will you stay with me until I go to sleep?’ she asked in a small, childlike voice.

  ‘Yes, of course, love. Shall I stroke your forehead while you go off to sleep? It’s very soothing.’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  She snuggled down and closed her eyes and I began lightly stroking her forehead. As she gradually relaxed, her face softened and her breathing regulated until at last she drifted into sleep. Once I was sure she was in a deep sleep, I stood and crept away from the bed and out of her room. My heart was light – lighter than it had been since Joss had first arrived – because I was certain we had turned the corner I’d been waiting for. Now that Joss was talking about her feelings and addressing her sorrow, her pain would surely start to ease and she’d become less angry and gradually get her life back. Healing the mind can take a long time, but once she came to terms with her father’s death, I was sure she would slowly move forward towards a full recovery. I couldn’t do anything about her mother’s marriage, which seemed to cause Joss so much anguish, but I felt that now Joss was letting go of her pain, it wouldn’t be long before she began to see that her mother had a right to happiness, which would hopefully pave the way for her accepting Eric and going home.

  The following day I telephoned the leisure centre to find out about ice-skating courses and I booked Joss into one that took place three half-days a week: Monday, Wednesday and Friday, from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. for four weeks in the summer holidays. It was expensive, but I was pleased Joss had shown an interest in something other than being with Zach and Chelsea. Adrian, Lucy and Paula were already booked to do some leisure courses. I thought Joss would be pleased, but when she came home from school that afternoon and I told her I’d booked the course she was more interested in how the time spent ice skating would impact on her seeing her mates.

  ‘I suppose I’ll have to tell Chelsea to meet me at the centre on those days so we can go out straight after,’ she said, disgruntled. ‘I’ll come home for my dinner at five and then go out for the evening.’

  ‘But you weren’t thinking of going out all day and every evening during the summer holidays, were you?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she said, surprised I should think any differently.

  ‘But you heard what Miss Pryce said about catching up with your school work over the summer.’

  ‘OK,’ Joss said testily. ‘I’ll do an hour when I come back for my dinner and then go out.’

  Clearly Joss had it all planned out and the quiet, compliant child who’d wanted to turn over a new leaf the night before was fading fast. Two days later I had to admit that my midnight talk with her hadn’t helped one little bit, and her behaviour was as bad as ever. The following week – the last week of term – there were three evenings when she didn’t come home until 11.30 p.m., just as I was about to telephone the police and report her missing. Then more money disappeared from my purse on the day I became lax about leaving my bag unattended in the hall. I tried to talk to Joss about this, and her behaviour in general, but she was unresponsive and shrugged, saying, ‘Yeah, whatever.’ Meaning: I hear you but don’t really care. I was so disappointed.

  Joss went out of her way to avoid me in the house, and when she did have to see me her attitude was challenging and hostile – a clear warning for me to keep away. I thought she must regret letting me get close and confiding in me, and was now putting distance between us by making herself as objectionable and unlikeable as she could. She was also quite horrible to my children, making snide and derisive comments, so they kept away from her. I tried talking to Joss, hoping I’d catch a glimpse of the girl I’d seen that night, but she wouldn’t engage with me at all and soon I had to admit that child was gone. She had more nightmares but didn’t wake, so I settled her and came out.

  One evening, when I was at my wits’ end, I telephoned Joss’s mother and asked her what Joss’s behaviour had been like with her since the review. She said it was awful. The only person Joss was pleasant to was her younger brother, Kevin, and she blamed Joss’s behaviour on the bad company she was keeping. Linda said, very tearfully, that she felt a secure therapeutic unit was probably the only place where Joss would be safe.

  With the start of the summer holidays a new routine began, with all of us getting up later than usual and washing and showering at leisure, before doing whatever was planned for the day. On the days Joss had ice skating she left the house at 9.30 a.m. and returned at 5 p.m., made a drama out of the little school work she did and then went out straight after dinner without calling goodbye. I asked her if she was enjoying the ice skating and she said she was, but didn’t offer any more. On the days she didn’t have ice skating I suggested she might like to come out with me, shopping maybe, but I could see that held as much appeal as walking on hot coals. So Joss disappeared out straight after breakfast, at about 10 a.m., returned for dinner at 5 p.m. like a homing pigeon and then went out again. Then, on Friday morning in the first week, when she was supposed to be skating, one of the leisure centre’s staff telephoned me and asked if Joss was ill, as she hadn’t been attending the classes.

  ‘Not at all?’ I asked in disbelief.

  ‘No.’

  ‘And she’s not there now?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. I take it you thought she’d been attending?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, feeling a complete fool and badly let down.

  ‘Do you want to cancel the course? We can’t give you a refund for this week, but we could for the oth
er three weeks if you tell us now.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I sighed. ‘No, leave it for now. Hopefully she’ll be there next week.’

  ‘All right. If not, let us know as soon as possible. Then we can refund for the two weeks left and also offer the place to someone else. There’s a waiting list for these short courses.’

  I apologized, said I’d phone as soon as I knew and then said goodbye.

  I was fuming. Not only because Joss had wasted my money and stopped someone else from taking the place on the course, but because of her barefaced dishonesty. The trouble with anger is that it eats away at you like a canker, and so it gnawed at me for the rest of the day, although I tried not to let it. I knew I should be calm when I confronted Joss or there would be an argument, which would achieve nothing. Paula was in that afternoon and knew something was wrong, but I didn’t tell her what. I never discuss one child’s negative behaviour with another unless it has a direct bearing on them.

  When Joss came home at five o’clock I told her to go into the front room, which was free, as I needed to talk to her.

  ‘Why?’ she asked, the picture of innocence. ‘I need to do my school work so I can go out later.’

  ‘You can do your work when we’ve spoken,’ I said very firmly.

  She could see I meant what I said, and without further protest she followed me into the front room where I closed the door so the others wouldn’t hear.

  I could have toyed with her. Having the upper hand meant I could have asked her if she’d enjoyed ice skating and then caught her out with her lies, but that wouldn’t have helped our relationship, so I came straight to the point.

  ‘Joss, one of the staff at the leisure centre telephoned me this morning and said you weren’t there. Why weren’t you there?’

  She looked surprised. ‘I didn’t feel well, so I went to Chelsea’s and had a rest,’ she said, ready with another lie.

  ‘And Monday and Wednesday? What happened then?’

  ‘They told you about that too?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Did you think they wouldn’t?’

  She shrugged and looked away.

  ‘Joss, I’m very disappointed. Not only have you lied to me and wasted my money, you’ve stopped someone else going on the course. Someone who wanted to go. I don’t understand.’

  She shrugged again and kept her eyes down.

  ‘Why didn’t you go?’ I persisted. ‘You enjoyed ice skating when we all went. You agreed to go on the course and you knew I’d booked and paid for it.’

  ‘I didn’t fancy going alone,’ she said.

  ‘You wouldn’t have been alone. There are others in the class.’

  ‘But I don’t know any of them,’ she said, finally meeting my gaze with a frown.

  Joss, usually so full of bravado, was telling me she hadn’t gone ice skating because she didn’t know anyone!

  ‘You would have soon made friends,’ I said. ‘Everyone is in the same position on these short courses. You all get talking and make friends.’

  Joss looked at me pathetically, and although I was annoyed I could appreciate that a teenager might feel self-conscious walking into a group where she didn’t know anyone.

  ‘It’s a pity you didn’t tell me how you felt sooner,’ I said, softening my tone. ‘You could have asked a friend to go – Chelsea, if she’d wanted to. But that’s not an option now; the course is full.’

  ‘Chelsea couldn’t have afforded it anyway,’ Joss said sullenly. ‘Her dad’s never got any money.’

  ‘Joss,’ I said seriously, ‘if Chelsea had wanted to go and that’s what it took to get you there, I would have happily paid for her too.’

  Joss held my gaze and for a moment I thought she was going to apologize or say something nice, but the moment passed.

  ‘I understand it can be difficult walking into a room full of people you don’t know,’ I continued evenly. ‘I have to do it at some of the meetings I attend in connection with fostering. I can feel my heart racing and my stomach churning, but once I’m in the room and I start talking to others I relax. Most people feel the same. You coped well at your review, so I’m sure you can handle this. Will you go on Monday?’

  ‘They’ll all know each other now,’ Joss bemoaned. ‘They’ve had a week to make friends.’ She had a point.

  ‘But there’s always room for one more friend,’ I said. ‘And most of the time you will be skating. You won’t be standing alone, I’m sure. Will you try it on Monday, Joss? And if you really don’t like it, I’ll cancel the rest of the course.’

  ‘OK,’ she said.

  ‘Good girl.’ It was a small triumph.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Doing the Right Thing

  Joss attended the ice-skating class on Monday – I telephoned and checked – and when she returned home at dinnertime she said she wanted to continue going as there was another girl in the class she knew from school, and they’d teamed up. I praised her, and Joss agreed that she was glad she’d given the course a chance. However, the good feeling I had from this (small) achievement was to be short-lived. On Tuesday evening, while Joss was out, Linda telephoned with news I didn’t want to hear.

  ‘Has Joss told you?’ she began anxiously.

  ‘Told me what?’

  ‘About the car they set fire to.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Joss and some others were seen running away from a car they’d set fire to on the estate. Apparently it belonged to some chap they thought was a paedophile and they decided to teach him a lesson. Someone called the police and they arrested a couple of the gang, but Joss and the others ran off. The police have been here; they’ve just left. They want to talk to Joss. I told them she was in foster care and I’ve given them your address.’

  ‘The silly, silly girl,’ I sighed. ‘Joss knows she has to stay out of trouble. When was this?’

  ‘Friday evening.’

  ‘Who else was involved? Do you know?’

  ‘The police didn’t say, but it was a large gang that is known to them. Joss seems to gravitate towards trouble. It draws her like a magnet. She never used to be like this.’ Linda’s voice fell away.

  ‘I’ll talk to her when she returns,’ I said, aware that this would probably do little good.

  ‘I thought I should warn you,’ Linda said.

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  There wasn’t much else we could say – we’d said it all before – and I think we both knew that this time Joss had gone too far.

  I was as fed up and worried as Linda was with Joss’s negative, self-destructive behaviour, and when Joss came in that night – half an hour late and reeking of smoke – I told her straight away that her mother had telephoned and what she’d said. Joss actually had the cheek to smirk.

  ‘I don’t see anything funny, Joss. You’re in trouble with the police again!’

  ‘They can’t prove I was there,’ she said cockily. ‘They haven’t got any evidence. I outran one of the coppers,’ she boasted. ‘Charlie got caught, but she can’t run as fast as me.’

  ‘Who’s Charlie?’ I asked.

  ‘Someone I know,’ she said evasively.

  ‘Joss, the police have been to your mother’s and they will come here, to interview you about an arson attack. That’s a very serious crime. They must have evidence you were at the scene or they wouldn’t want to speak to you.’

  ‘The coppers recognized me from the mall,’ Joss said. ‘But they can’t prove anything. I’ll say I wasn’t there. Chelsea will give me an alibi. It’s only the police’s word against mine.’ She looked pleased with herself.

  ‘And you think the court is going to believe you and Chelsea over police officers?’ I asked incredulously.

  ‘Even if they don’t, I’ll only get another caution,’ she said contemptuously.

  ‘Only another caution!’ My voice rose. ‘You shouldn’t have any cautions at all! You still don’t get it, do you, Joss? After everything your mother and I have said to you, you st
ill can’t see that your behaviour is wrong. I really thought that after our chat the other week you were going to make a big effort to change – for the sake of your father.’

  ‘Well, he’s not here, is he?’ Joss retorted sharply. ‘So I can do what I fucking well want.’

  ‘No, you can’t,’ I said.

  She turned and stomped upstairs to her room.

  When I checked on her later she was asleep, and then the following morning I woke her at 8.30 to go ice skating. I always start each day afresh, a new leaf, another beginning, and Joss was in a better mood. At breakfast she managed to ask Paula how her tennis course was going. Paula said she was enjoying it and they chatted for a while. Before Joss left the house that morning she asked me if she could have some extra money for a snack at break time and I gave her a couple of pounds. As I saw her off at the door, I wished her a nice day and said I’d see her later. Although I would have liked for Joss to return home straight after ice skating and spend the afternoon with us, I had to be realistic and manage my expectations, so I assumed she would be back around five o’clock for her dinner, as she had been doing.

  When she hadn’t returned by six o’clock I began to worry. She hardly ever missed dinner; she liked her food regardless of the mess the rest of her life was in. At 6.45 I telephoned Homefinders, the agency I fostered for, for some advice. Jill wasn’t there, but a colleague, Trisha, was covering the out-of-hours service and I explained my concerns. She said that as it was only early evening I should wait until 9.30 had passed – the time Joss had to be home – before I reported her missing to the police, but to call her again if I had any more concerns or if she wasn’t back by then. I thanked her and we said goodbye.

  If a teenager who normally arrived home on time and didn’t have a history of going missing failed to come home when expected, the parent or carer would call the police and report them missing much sooner. But with a young person like Joss, who was often very late back, there was some leeway before action needed to be taken and limited police resources were deployed. Yet, while part of me said that Joss wasn’t in danger and would appear at some point as if nothing was wrong, I also acknowledged that this could be the one time when she was in danger and I was sitting here doing nothing.