by Cathy Glass
‘Max,’ I said, giving him a hug. ‘You are beautiful. It’s the person inside that counts. That’s where true beauty lies, and you are one of the most beautiful children I know. You are also very intelligent, so remember that.’
He gave a small, embarrassed laugh but looked pleased. I don’t think anyone had said this to him before. ‘I’ll try to remember that,’ he said. ‘I guess it’s the same for my mum and sisters too. We are all beautiful inside.’
‘Yes. Absolutely,’ I said, which I thought was very generous, considering Caz’s hostility towards me.
Reassured that I wouldn’t take a photograph of him in his PE kit at sports day, Max got dressed and came down to breakfast – I’d yet to address the issue of him having two breakfasts; I was thinking about what to do for the best. When I took him to school and we said goodbye I said I’d see him later at sports day and reminded him to look out for Paula and me sitting in the audience. I didn’t know if any of Max’s family would be going. Caz hadn’t said anything, but they had the details.
As soon as I returned home from taking Paula to nursery I telephoned Jill and told her what the paediatrician had said at Max’s medical, including how much he weighed, what a child of his age should weigh, that the most likely cause of his asthma and snoring was his obesity, and the diet and fitness programme she’d suggested.
‘Do what she says,’ Jill said without hesitation. ‘Jo should be fine with it, as it’s a doctor who’s said he should be on a diet. But obviously don’t overdo it. Hopefully, once Max is home, Caz and her family will join the programme at the clinic.’
‘I was thinking of continuing more or less what I have been doing – giving Max normal-sized portions, but no second helpings and reducing the number of sweet and fatty foods he eats. The doctor said exercise should be light to begin with, like walking, swimming and playing outdoors.’
‘Yes, that sounds reasonable. Keep a record of what you’re doing. Weigh him, but only once a week. He’s an intelligent child and you don’t want him to become anxious about losing weight. Log it all in your diary.’
‘Yes, I will. Thanks, Jill.’
‘I’ll speak to Jo. Any plans for the weekend?’
‘Relaxing on Saturday – we’ll go out if it’s fine. On Sunday Adrian and Paula are out with their father, so I was planning on taking Max to buy some more casual clothes that I am allowed to turn up.’
‘OK.’ I heard Jill smile. ‘Have a good one.’
‘And you.’ We said goodbye.
Jill is usually right about most things connected with good social work practice, but her assertion that Jo would be ‘fine’ was slightly off the mark. When Jo telephoned mid-morning she was even more stressed than usual. ‘I’ve been on the phone all morning trying to sort this out – first Dr Jhaveri and then Max’s mother. What on earth is going on? I didn’t realize he was that overweight. Did you?’ So I guessed Dr Jhaveri had given Jo some straight-talking.
‘Well, yes, I knew,’ I said. ‘He’s wearing clothes for twelve-year-olds and older.’
‘Is he?’ she asked, surprised, as if she’d only just been made aware of it.
‘I mentioned it when Max first arrived.’
‘Did you? I don’t remember.’ I thought Jo was always so stressed that it was a wonder she remembered anything.
‘I’ve spoken to Jill and we think –’ I began.
‘Who’s Jill?’
‘My support social worker.’
‘Oh yes. She phoned here while I was on the other line,’ Jo said. ‘I’ll call her when I get a minute. What did she say?’
‘That I should follow the doctor’s advice but not do anything too drastic. We eat healthily here anyway, so Max will have the same food as us, but I’ll limit his intake of sweet foods.’
‘I’ll have to try to explain this to Caz. Can you tell her?’
‘She won’t talk to me.’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know. She probably resents the fact that I’m looking after her son.’ I paused but Jo didn’t comment. ‘What shall I do about the bag of sweets he takes in each night, and all the sweets he eats during visiting time?’
‘They don’t eat that many, do they?’
‘Four large bags, including the one Max takes in every evening.’
‘But they’re shared?’
‘Yes.’
‘You can’t stop that.’
‘So he still takes in the sweets? You know that apart from the issue of his weight his teeth are in a bad state. He’s had four out and another two may have to come out because of his high-sugar diet.’
‘The doctor said that?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll tell Caz, but let him take the sweets in and she can have the responsibility of how many he eats.’
‘All right. Also, Max always has second helpings of pudding at school, but to stop it the canteen staff need a letter from the parent. Can you send it to them, please?’
‘Can’t you?’
‘I can, but I’m not sure it will be sufficient as I’m the foster carer.’
‘Try. Tell them I said it was fine. I need to get back to Caz now.’ She ended the call as stressed out as she’d begun it. Who’d be a social worker? I thought.
Chapter Twelve
Vulnerable
I wrote the letter to Max’s school as Jo had asked, addressed ‘To Whom It May Concern’, and saying that a paediatrician had placed Max on a diet and it would be appreciated if he wasn’t given second helpings of school dinners. I said his social worker was aware and could confirm this if necessary, and gave her contact details and also my own. I took the letter with me when Paula and I went to sports day and left it in the office. Then we joined other families who’d come to watch sports day on the playing fields at the rear of the school.
I looked around the small groups of spectators already sitting on the grass, but I couldn’t see anyone I knew. The area where the events were to be held had been cordoned off with brightly coloured ribbon to form an arena. Some chairs had been set out at one end, but most of the spectators were sitting on the grass. I’d brought a ground sheet for this purpose and set it down in a spot where we could see the arena. Although there was some cloud cover, the ultraviolet rays in summer are very strong, so I’d already put sunscreen on us both before we left and Paula was wearing a sun hat. The letter from the school advising us of the arrangements for sports day had emphasized the importance of using sunscreen for both participants and spectators, and Max had taken a tube of children’s sunscreen to school with him. I’d also come prepared with bottles of water, and the participants would be given water regularly as well. Two large water coolers stood on a table to the right of the seating area.
At 1.30 p.m. the children filed out of school and onto the playing field in their classes and then arranged themselves into their house teams. I spotted Max straight away, tucked into the line of children, and he was looking at the spectators, so I stood and gave a little wave. He waved back with a small smile. I could see him still looking around, possibly searching for members of his family, but as far as I knew they weren’t there. The teams sat on the grass and the noise level gradually increased as the whole school assembled and the children chatted excitedly. Once all the children were on the field the Headmistress took a microphone into the middle of the arena and made a speech, welcoming the spectators and explaining the programme of events, which was also displayed on a large white board beside the table of drinks. As she finished speaking and opened the sports day a few latecomers arrived and among them I spotted Kelly, Max’s seventeen-year-old sister. ‘There’s Max’s sister,’ I said to Paula, and I waved.
She appeared not to see us and began walking towards the chairs, but Mrs Marshall noticed and, going over to her, pointed to where we sat. I gave another wave and Kelly came towards us – a little reluctantly, I thought, but it would be nice for Max to see us all sitting together.
‘Hi. Max will be pleased you’ve
come,’ I said as Kelly approached. I made room for her on the ground sheet.
‘Yeah, well, someone had to come,’ she said, removing her earbuds and switching off her music. ‘I don’t have classes on a Friday afternoon.’ She heaved herself onto the mat with a strenuous sigh, and then straightened out her legs in front of her. She was wearing leggings and a long top and looked rather hot. ‘Where is he?’ she asked.
‘Over there.’ I pointed to where Max sat in his house team. He’d seen Kelly as she’d arrived and waved. ‘Didn’t he mind coming?’ she asked, waving back. ‘He had the day off last year. I thought he hated PE and sports day. I did.’
‘Max’s teacher had a chat with him and he’s fine about it now. I’m pleased he felt he could participate.’
The Headmistress’s voice came over the public address system again as she announced the start of the first event and reminded everyone to cheer loudly. ‘What are they doing?’ Paula asked as all the children stood and began moving. The arena had filled with activity and the teams lined up in front of their first event. ‘They are going to have their first race,’ I said. ‘It looks like Max’s team is going to run the obstacle course.’
Once the teams were ready the Head said, ‘On the count of three …’ and then blew her whistle. A roar went up from the spectators as we cheered our teams. I could see what Mrs Marshall had meant about it not being individually competitive. Each child did their best, but it was a team event so that no child was singled out as a winner, runner-up or coming last, as in a traditional sports day. The staff were timing how long it took each team to complete an event and points were awarded for the fastest and also the skill shown by the team in completing the event. So, for example, the team who were playing dribble hockey accrued extra points for how many balls they got into the net. As each team finished they sat down, and once all the teams were seated the staff conferred and allotted points, which were displayed on the white board.
‘What are you studying at college?’ I asked Kelly, taking the opportunity of the pause between events to make conversation.
‘A foundation course,’ she said. ‘I didn’t get many exams at school, so I’m doing catch-up.’
‘Sounds good. Are you enjoying it?’
‘It’s OK. I just wish I’d got my exams first time, but I was off sick too much.’
‘Oh dear, I am sorry to hear that. Are you well now?’
She shrugged. ‘I guess.’
The Headmistress announced that the next race would start shortly, and then the teams moved to their next event. Max’s team was now lined up in front of beat the goalie, where each child had three shots to try to get the football past the goalkeeper, who was a member of staff. The Head blew her whistle and everyone cheered their team on again. Paula got so excited that she began jumping up and down and calling out.
‘She’s sweet,’ Kelly said, and I smiled.
It seemed that Kelly, like Summer (when I’d given her a lift home), was far more personable and happy to chat with me when away from her mother. Although I fully appreciated why they felt the need to show solidarity and loyalty to their mother and join in her hostility towards me.
When the race had finished there was another pause as points were allotted and noted on the board. Kelly straightened her leggings and then turned to me. ‘You know what Max told Mum about losing weight?’ I nodded. ‘Do you think I should go on a diet too?’
I was taken aback. It was a very personal question and Kelly hardly knew me. ‘Have you discussed it with your mother?’ I asked.
She shook her head. ‘No, she won’t talk about it.’
I paused and thought carefully what to say. ‘Perhaps you could discuss it with your doctor?’
She gave a desultory nod. ‘When I kept being ill he said I should try to eat more healthily and take more exercise. But it’s difficult at home. We always have loads of ready meals, takeaways and sweets, cakes and biscuits. I can’t not eat them when everyone else is.’
‘No, that would be very difficult,’ I agreed.
‘But other people manage to lose weight,’ Kelly lamented. ‘My friend at college has lost three stone since we started. She looks fantastic. I wish I could do that, but her mum made her meals each day.’
‘I think it helps to have support, and you’d need advice on what to eat and how best to exercise. When I was at the health centre with Max the paediatrician mentioned a programme they offered for those who want to lose weight. They give advice, support and weekly weigh-ins. Perhaps you could look into attending that?’
‘Is Max going?’ she asked.
‘Not at present. The paediatrician gave me some information sheets on diet and exercise and I know what to do. But it’s easier in my house as we don’t have lots of ready meals, sweets and sugary drinks. We have them sometimes, but not every day.’
‘Perhaps I should come and live with you,’ Kelly said jokingly.
I smiled. ‘I think your mother would have something to say about that. It would be good if your whole family could enrol on the programme. Why don’t you talk to Jo about it?’
‘Yes, I could. She gave me her phone number if I needed it. Dad isn’t fat, but he smokes. Mum says that’s why he’s thin. Perhaps I should start smoking.’
‘Absolutely not!’ I said. ‘You’re sensible, Kelly, I’m sure you could follow a fitness plan with support, and your mother and sisters may want to join in when they see what you are doing.’
The next races began and we concentrated on the games again, cheering and clapping as appropriate. Kelly said she was thirsty, so I gave her one of our bottles of water, as she hadn’t brought any with her and I had plenty. At half-time, while the children had a rest and a drink, Mrs Marshall came over to us to say hello and commented on how well Max was doing. She also made a point of asking Kelly how she and her family were, before moving on to say hello to another family with a child in her class.
‘She’s nice,’ Kelly said after she’d gone.
‘Yes, very.’
‘She’s been here for ages – she taught me and my sisters. Although I never liked school.’
The second half began fifteen minutes later and all the events were finished by 3.30. There was then a gap of about ten minutes as the staff added up the points before the presentation of the trophy. Max’s team didn’t win, but as the Head said in her closing speech it was participating that counted, and it was fantastic that everyone had a chance to compete and enjoy themselves. She thanked the spectators again for coming and asked that we remain on the field while the children went inside to collect their belongings and then they’d return to us.
Kelly, Paula and I stood, I put away the ground sheet and then we walked towards an area closer to the exit where others were waiting. As we did I heard a woman behind us say, ‘Look at the size of her.’ For a moment it didn’t register who she was talking about until she added, ‘Her sisters and brother are the same. They live near us. They’re always in the chip shop. Don’t know how they afford it on benefits.’ I felt a surge of anger and protectiveness for Kelly and her family, which, through fostering Max, I had temporarily become part of. I turned and looked pointedly at the woman, who had the decency to look away. I glanced at Kelly. If she had heard she wasn’t showing it, but I was hurt on her behalf. How dare that woman assume the right to comment out loud when she might hear? Kelly was obese, but she wasn’t without feelings. It was probably a small indication of what she and her family had to contend with every day.
When Max appeared we congratulated him and told him how well he’d done. He glowed with the praise. ‘Did you see me score the goals?’ he asked excitedly.
‘Yes, you did so well for your team,’ I said.
‘Well done, Max,’ Kelly added.
Like most of the children, he was hot and sweating, but there wouldn’t be time for him to shower before we had to leave to go to the hospital. Kelly walked with us and as we left the school grounds I asked her if she’d like a lift home –
it wasn’t out of my way – and she did. She said she was exhausted and that there was no way she was going to the hospital tonight, as she needed a rest.
‘I’m sure your mother will understand,’ I said.
To save time I didn’t take Kelly right to her door but dropped her off at the end of her road, and then continued to Adrian’s school, where I collected him from the production rehearsal. I asked him if it had gone well, and he said it had but then broke into fits of laughter as he told me that they’d been messing around and a boy had stepped off the stage and onto the piano keys, running to the end before jumping off. He could barely tell me for laughing, although they’d all had a telling-off, for as the teacher had pointed out it was dangerous and could also damage the piano. But I smiled too; I could picture the scene of overexcited children letting off steam. ‘He has piano lessons, Mum!’ Adrian cracked up. ‘But you’d never have guessed from the noise he made.’
We were so short of time that I decided to stop off at a fast-food drive-through on the way home, where we bought burgers, chicken and chips to have at home. Greasy and high in calories, salt and hidden sugars, but absolutely delicious for a change. And there lay our excuse: it was ‘a change’, not our staple diet, so we could enjoy it without a guilty conscience.
That evening, when we arrived at the hospital, to my surprise Caz was sitting in the chair beside her bed. Paris and Summer were sitting on the bed. Kelly wasn’t there and Caz clearly wasn’t happy with the excuse she’d sent with her sisters. She was in the middle of a heated exchange with Paris.
‘She doesn’t need a rest! She’s only been watching sports day,’ Caz continued. ‘She could still have come here tonight.’
‘Will you stop going on?’ Paris said, rolling her eyes. ‘Or I’ll go home. Be grateful we’ve come. It’s Friday night. We should be out.’
‘So you’d rather see your friends than your sick mother?’
‘You’re not sick any more,’ Paris snapped. ‘They’re letting you out next week.’