by Cathy Glass
She nodded. ‘Cathy, do you think Marlene really does want me?’
‘Yes, of course, love. Whatever made you ask?’
‘My mum didn't want me.’
‘Is that what you've been thinking about?’
She nodded, and looked up at me imploringly.
‘Donna, love, your mum had so many problems in her life that they stopped her from seeing the beautiful things. She couldn't appreciate you, look after you or love you enough, because of her problems. Marlene and I, and most mothers, are different. You are a lovely person, and I know Marlene already likes you. I also know that in time she will love you as we do.’
She smiled. As we had thought might happen, the introduction to Marlene had unsettled Donna and brought back the negative feelings and memories from her past. Prior to me, the other person who had been in the mothering role, far from liking Donna, had treated her appallingly. I could only offer so much reassurance; the rest would come when Donna saw for herself that Marlene behaved as I did, with the same respect and love.
As predicted, our visit to Marlene's, the following day, was a lot easier, with everyone far more relaxed. Marlene met us at the door of her three-bedroom semi with its neat front garden, and began a tour of the house. Harris, her large (and lazy) cat, was sprawled on the sofa in the lounge and living up to his reputation. Adrian sat on the sofa next to the cat and stayed downstairs, while Marlene showed the girls and me upstairs. Donna was keen to see her bedroom, and it was even more luxurious than the photograph had suggested. The smell of fresh paint still hung in the air, and the crisp cotton lilac curtains and matching duvet cover were brand new. There were lots of little matching accessories — a pale lilac shaded lamp, a lilac velvet-topped dressing-table stool and the new doll in a lavender-colour dress that Marlene had bought specially sitting on the bed. I hoped Donna appreciated just how much trouble Marlene had gone to.
‘Isn't it lovely?’ I said to Donna. ‘You are a lucky girl.’
Donna smiled, and looked as though she did appreciate it. She and Paula sat on the bed and began playing with the doll. The doll was about twelve inches high and dressed in Victorian costume with layers of petticoats topped with the lavender-coloured satin dress. It was a lovely doll and I guessed quite expensive.
‘Do you want to stay here and play for a while?’ Marlene asked the girls. ‘Cathy and I can go downstairs.’ The girls nodded. ‘We'll be in the lounge when you've finished,’ Marlene added.
Downstairs Marlene set up the PlayStation for Adrian, and she and I sat in the armchairs at one end of the lounge-cum-dining room and chatted, while Adrian amused himself at the other end. Marlene told me that she had moved to the house three years previously and had had to extensively modernise, and redecorate every room. An elderly couple had lived in the house before her, for most of their lives, and the upkeep of the house had become too much for them. Marlene said that although the house was structurally sound she had been working on it continuously since moving in. I admired Marlene's handiwork and told her of my own decorating.
‘When you live by yourself,’ she said, ‘it's surprising what you can do if you have to. I have even plumbed in the new kitchen sink.’
‘Really?’ I said, impressed.
The kitchen was the last room that needed work doing to it, Marlene said, and she wanted to show me how far she had got. ‘My family give me a hand sometimes,’ she said as we went into the kitchen, ‘but I don't like to keep asking them.’ The new gleaming stainless-steel sink stood out against a backdrop of half-removed tiles. ‘They're dreadful to get off,’ Marlene said. ‘The news ones are over there.’ She pointed to a stack of boxes by the wall. ‘The next job is to replace the kitchen cupboards,’ she continued, happy to have an appreciative audience. ‘I've got a local man coming in to help. Then it's the flooring.’ She tapped her foot on the torn and faded linoleum. ‘I haven't decided what to put down yet.’
‘It will be lovely when it's finished,’ I said. ‘I'm afraid my DIY is limited to painting and wallpapering.’
‘I've had enough of it now,’ she admitted with a small sigh. ‘I'll be pleased when it's finished and I can just enjoy it.’
Marlene made us a cup of tea, then called the girls and Adrian for a drink and biscuits. We sat around the table in the dining area of the lounge and chatted — Adrian about the PlayStation game, and Donna and Paula about Donna's bedroom. Once we'd finished the drinks, Marlene cleared away the cups and glasses and produced one of the jigsaw puzzles she'd bought. Marlene, the girls and I sat at the table and slowly assembled it while Adrian returned to the PlayStation.
Our hour's visit ran over time but it didn't matter; Donna was clearly far more relaxed than she had been the day before, and appeared to be enjoying herself. Marlene was more relaxed too. Once the jigsaw was complete I began to take our leave. I confirmed the details of Donna's next visit, which would take place on Tuesday. I would bring Donna straight from school to Marlene's and she would stay for dinner; then I would collect her at 7.30 p.m. This was to be repeated on Thursday. Then, if everything was going all right, she would stay over on Friday and Saturday night, and I would collect her on Sunday morning. It had been decided at the planning meeting that Donna wouldn't accompany Marlene to church on this occasion as it could be too much for her so soon, and I would collect Donna at 10.00 a.m. on the Sunday. Donna was due to stay the night of the following Wednesday, and Marlene would take her to school in the morning. If everything went well, we would then have a little farewell party for Donna on the Friday, and I would move her to Marlene's on the Saturday. It was going to be a very busy two weeks: apart from the practical aspect of driving Donna to and from Marlene's, I would also be spending a lot of time talking to Donna, and generally keeping an eye on her to make sure she felt comfortable with the pace at which we were going.
The two evening visits, Tuesday and Thursday, went very well — better than I had anticipated — but a problem arose on the Saturday, although I didn't find out until I collected Donna on Sunday morning.
It had been really strange not having Donna sleeping in her bed at home, and a taste of what it would be like when she had moved. Donna's place at the meal table was glaringly empty, and suddenly three seemed a very small number. ‘I wonder what Donna is doing,’ Adrian and Paula asked more than once on Saturday, to which I replied, ‘I expect she is getting to know Marlene,’ or ‘Playing,’ or ‘Possibly helping Marlene with her kitchen.’ Marlene had already said that she'd appreciate Donna's help in finishing her kitchen. And I wondered if perhaps I hadn't let Donna help enough, and crucified myself thinking of all the things that I could have handled differently — better, if I'd had another chance. But that is the nature of fostering, and child rearing in general — you do what you think is best at the time and try not to repeat your mistakes in the future.
On Sunday morning when we arrived at 10.00 a.m. to collect Donna, Marlene met us at the door, looking very worried. Donna was nowhere to be seen downstairs.
‘She's in her bedroom,’ Marlene said, ‘sulking, I'm afraid. Would Adrian and Paula like to play in the lounge while I speak to you in the kitchen?’
I motioned for the children to go into the lounge, where Adrian immediately picked up the controls to the PlayStation and began explaining to Paula what she had to do. I followed Marlene into the kitchen, wondering what Donna could have done. I felt my anxiety rise.
‘I've dealt with it as best I could,’ Marlene began. ‘But I've had to tell Donna off, and she's not happy with me.’ I looked at Marlene and waited as she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. ‘We had a really good Friday evening, and a good day yesterday,’ she continued. ‘When I said goodnight to Donna last night she seemed fine. But she must have got out of bed after I was asleep, and she tore up the magazines I'd bought for her yesterday. I went in this morning and found her room covered with paper. I wasn't worried, because you'd told me to expect this, and Donna said she would clear it up later. While
she was in the shower I thought I would save her the bother and I got out the hoover and quickly went round her room. I thought I was doing her a favour, but when she saw what I'd done she was so angry. She shouted at me, then called me an interfering bitch.’
‘Did she indeed!’
‘I told her off and she's been sulking ever since. That was about an hour ago. I've tried talking to her, but she's not having any of it. I'm sorry, Cathy. I've clearly done something very wrong.’
I could see immediately what the something was but it certainly wasn't Marlene's fault. ‘It's part of Donna's ritual to clear up the mess she makes,’ I said gently. ‘To her the clearing up is the most important part of the ritual. But that's no excuse for shouting or swearing at you.’ Marlene looked at me, still upset and shaken by the whole experience, and now blaming herself. ‘Because of her cleaning role at home,’ I continued, ‘Donna needs to clean and tidy; it's her acting it out. When she does it again, leave her to clear up the mess. But I'm not having her being rude.’
‘I'm sorry,’ Marlene said again. ‘I should have realised.’
‘No, you shouldn't. Donna could have explained to you rather than bursting into anger. She's been living with me for over fifteen months and she knows that type of behaviour isn't acceptable. Shall we go and see her together? I think it might be useful.’
Marlene readily agreed, and leaving Paula and Adrian playing on the PlayStation in the lounge, we went to Donna's bedroom. I could see that Marlene was still upset, and I guessed she'd also been frightened by Donna's anger, as I had been when she'd first come to live with me. Her rage could be very threatening.
I knocked on Donna's door and opened it. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, quite clearly sulking. Her face looked like thunder and it was so severe that it looked almost fake — an adopted pose to make Marlene suffer. Had it been me she was directing it to I would have laughed and cajoled her out of it, but it wasn't, and Marlene didn't know Donna well enough to have the confidence to risk humour. She had been frightened and compromised by Donna's outburst and it wasn't fair on her.
‘Donna,’ I said firmly, raising my voice slightly in indignation, ‘I don't know what you think you're doing, but you need to apologise to Marlene. Now. ’
She glanced up at me, slightly taken aback, perhaps expecting my sympathy. ‘How dare you speak to Marlene like that?’ I continued in the same authoritative tone. ‘You know that type of language is unacceptable. You don't swear in my house and you certainly don't here either.’ She lowered her head again, but the sulk wasn't as emphasised now that she realised it wasn't going to have much effect. ‘Marlene made a mistake in clearing up your bedroom,’ I said. ‘She thought she was being helpful; she wasn't to know you liked doing it. It was no reason to shout and swear at her, was it?’ Donna sat with her head lowered but said nothing, clearly digging her heels in.
‘What should you have done?’ I continued. ‘What have I taught you to do if there is a problem, rather than getting angry or sulking?’
I waited, and Marlene waited too; we were both looking at Donna, who was still perched on the edge of the bed.
‘Talk,’ she said at last in a small voice.
‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘So why didn't you talk to Marlene? You should have explained to her that in future you would like to clear up your mess. It would have been the adult and sensible thing to do. It is what I have spent fifteen months teaching you to do, Donna. Please don't forget it all now and let me down.’ But of course in the new situation of Marlene's house Donna had simply reverted to her learned behaviour from the years before. ‘Right, young lady,’ I said, finally, ‘apologise to Marlene now please.’
Again, Marlene and I waited, and I knew quite a bit hung in the balance. These two weeks were a difficult period because Donna was slowly transferring not only her allegiance and feelings from me to Marlene, but also her trust, and the respect she had for my authority.
‘Well?’ I said. ‘I'm waiting.’
‘Sorry, Marlene,’ she said slowly and in the same small voice. ‘I should have talked to you. I will next time.’
‘Thank you, Donna,’ Marlene said. ‘I hope you feel you can talk to me, as you do to Cathy.’
Donna nodded.
‘Good girl,’ I said. ‘Now we will say goodbye and let Marlene get off to church. I bet she feels she needs it.’ I glanced at Marlene and she smiled. But Donna's apology had been the best possible outcome, and I was quietly pleased. She could have burst into another furious rage and said she hated Marlene (and me) and wasn't going to come here ever again. But she hadn't, her anger had been confined to the one incident and we had dealt with it.
As we said goodbye in the hall, Donna apologised again to Marlene, ‘Sorry. I've had a nice time really.’
I saw Marlene's spirits lift. ‘Good. I've enjoyed it too. And I'm looking forward to seeing you again on Wednesday. I'll cook you your favourite dinner.’
Donna smiled, but I could have scowled, for it was a stark reminder that very soon Marlene would be cooking all Donna's favourite meals, and she would soon be the most important person in her life.
Later that day I reinforced to Donna how important it was for her to talk to Marlene if she felt there was a problem, and she promised me she would. Donna had progressed sufficiently since living with me to be able to rationally explain her feelings, rather than let them bottle up until they exploded as she had done in the early days. I wondered how much of Donna's anger had been simply to test Marlene's reaction.
When Edna phoned on Monday we agreed that, given the enormity of the changes Donna was having to accommodate, the incident was minor, and the introduction and move would go ahead as planned. Donna spent Wednesday night at her new home, and Marlene took Donna to school on Thursday morning and met some of the staff. When I collected Donna at the end of school Beth Adams and Mrs Bristow told me how proud Donna had been when she had introduced Marlene to them. I was pleased, but I also experienced that now very familiar sadness that my role in Donna's life was slowly being transferred to Marlene. I knew I would have to let go quicker than I had been doing, for Friday night was Donna's last with us, and on Saturday I would be moving her.
Chapter Twenty-five
Moving On
During the rest of the week I found myself stealing little glances at Donna and trying to imagine what life was going to be like without her. I thought that Adrian and Paula were doing likewise, and also making the most of the time they had left with her; Paula hardly left her side. While Donna was at school on Friday I packed most of her belongings. I had suggested to Donna that I did this, as we were going to have a little leaving party on Friday evening and there wouldn't be much time; also, packing to say goodbye was a sad business for an adult, let alone a child. Donna had readily agreed to let me do it.
When I collected Donna from school on Friday I said goodbye to all the staff and thanked them for what they had done. This would be my last visit to the school, as my involvement there had now finished, although as Mrs Bristow said, ‘We might see each other again in the future with another child.’ I gave her a large box of chocolates to be shared among the staff, and thanking them again, said an emotional farewell.
That evening we had our leaving party for Donna. My parents, my brother and his wife, Sue and family from next door, Emily and Mandy (they were saying goodbye to me, for they would still see Donna at school), and Jill, arrived at 6.00 p.m. They all brought presents for Donna, which she opened. ‘It's like my birthday again,’ she said brightly, ‘or Christmas come early.’ I smiled to hide my regret. Donna wouldn't be with us for Christmas, although I knew she would have a good time with Marlene. Paula, Adrian and I had bought Donna a leaving present, but we were going to give it to her on Saturday, last thing before we took her to Marlene's.
I had prepared a buffet and set it on the table in the breakfast room, and Donna's leaving party was a happy affair, despite our sadness at her going. The adults chatted, everyone helped the
mselves to food and I organised some games at the children's request. Our guests said goodbye just after 8.30 p.m., wishing Donna good luck and telling her to write when she had a chance. The house suddenly fell quiet and Donna thanked me for her party. ‘You're more than welcome, love,’ I said, and I gave her a big hug.
While the children went upstairs to change, ready for bed, I cleared away the remainder of the buffet and loaded the dishwasher. I fed Toscha, and then went up to say goodnight. Paula was nearly asleep; it was 9.30 p.m. and well past her bedtime. I kissed her goodnight then went into Adrian's room; he said he was going to read for half an hour. Donna was in bed, with her leaving presents on the floor beside her. There was a china ornament which looked like Toscha from my parents; a framed family photograph of all of us from my brother; a book from my neighbour; a pink purse from Emily; and a gift voucher from Jill.
‘We'll have to remember to pack those in the morning,’ I said, perching on the edge of her bed. I had taken the cases and boxes containing the rest of Donna's belongings downstairs and stacked them in the front room, which we hadn't used during the evening.
‘And my bike,’ Donna said. ‘Don't forget that.’
I smiled. ‘No, love, I haven't forgotten that. I've put it in the boot of the car already. I wanted to make sure it fitted in.’
‘You think of everything,’ she said with a grin.
‘I wouldn't say that, love, but I try my best.’ I paused and looked at her. She was snuggled beneath the duvet, her eyes heavy with sleep but content. ‘Donna,’ I said gently, ‘I want you to remember that Marlene will be trying to do her best too. She might not always get it right, but that's where you can help, isn't it?’
She nodded. ‘I know. By talking to her and telling her how I feel.’
‘That's right. Good girl.’ I continued to look at her, and stroked away a strand of hair from her forehead. I didn't want to get all emotional, but I was finding it difficult to say goodnight for what would be the last time. ‘And Donna, remember it's going to be a bit strange to begin with, until you get used to your new home. I know we've talked about this but if you give yourself time I know things will just get better and better for you.’ I paused and smiled, still reluctant to say goodnight and pull myself away. ‘OK, love,’ I said after a moment. ‘You get some sleep. You must be exhausted. It's been a busy day.’