by Cathy Glass
‘You’re coming home!’ Filip cried, opening the rear door, while Aneta burst into tears.
The children looked anxious.
‘Not today, but soon,’ I told them as I got out. This wasn’t the way to prepare children for leaving.
‘Next weekend you’re coming home,’ Filip said joyfully.
Seeing their father so jubilant and their mother crying was worrying Molly and Kit.
‘It’s OK,’ I reassured them as we stood on the pavement. ‘Mummy and Daddy are happy.’
‘Because you’re allowed to come home!’ Filip cried, and lifted Kit high into the air. Aneta hugged Molly.
‘I understand you are taking them out today and then we meet back here at five o’clock,’ I said, trying to firm up arrangements.
‘Yes,’ Filip said. ‘We’ll go to the park, but if it gets too cold we’ll come back early and go inside.’
‘OK, so I’ll meet you here then. Tess said she’d phone me with the details for next week.’
‘I can tell you what they are,’ Filip said exuberantly. ‘Monday and Tuesday will be the same as today. Then on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday we can take the children home.’ He gave Kit another spin in the air. ‘I think you have to drop them off and collect them from our place, and then on Saturday they will move back with us! That’s what our lawyer pushed for and that’s what we got! Well done, Mr Coles!’ Who I assumed was their lawyer.
Molly and Kit looked more confused than ever, so I told them they were going to have a nice time in the park with their mummy and daddy, and I’d come back here later to collect them. I said goodbye and left. As I pulled away, I glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw the four of them crossing the road, heading towards the park. Aneta was holding Molly’s hand and Kit was on his father’s shoulders, a family about to be reunited.
Paula arrived home shortly after I did and I told her of the judge’s decision. She was as surprised as I was but said sensibly, ‘The judge would have had all the evidence and must believe it’s safe for Molly and Kit to go home.’
‘Yes, absolutely,’ I agreed.
‘Do judges ever make mistakes?’ she asked.
‘Sometimes. But let’s not go there.’
‘I’ll miss them a lot.’
‘I know, we all will. Hopefully we’ll be able to keep in touch.’ Although Paula knew as I did that that would rely on Molly and Kit’s parents. Not all parents wanted to keep in touch and be reminded of a time they’d rather forget.
When I returned to collect Molly and Kit they were waiting in reception with their parents, having only just returned from their outing to the park. The children were fine, more relaxed, and had roses in their cheeks from the cold.
‘We found a café in the park,’ Filip told me, ‘and had a hot chocolate.’
‘Lovely,’ I said. ‘My favourite.’
Then Aneta suddenly gained confidence in her role as mother and began advising me. ‘Make sure Molly and Kit keep their hats and gloves on, it’s cold today.’
‘I will,’ I said. ‘I always do.’
‘They might not want their dinner yet, as they had cake as well as hot chocolate, so you can give it to them later.’
‘Yes, OK,’ I said. ‘Thanks for letting me know.’
Aneta and Filip brought Molly and Kit to the car and Filip lifted them into their seats in the back.
‘Make sure their seatbelts are properly done up,’ Aneta told him.
He double-checked. ‘See you Monday,’ he said, kissing them goodbye. ‘Remember, you move home for good in a week, so not long.’
Aneta gave them both another kiss. ‘Not long now,’ she said.
I got into the driver’s seat and the parents stood on the pavement and waved until we were out of sight. The children were very quiet.
‘Did you have a nice time?’ I asked them.
‘How long is a week?’ Molly asked. ‘Daddy said we can go home in a week.’
‘Seven sleeps,’ I said. And that was all that was said for the rest of the journey.
Lucy was in when we arrived home. Paula had told her of the judge’s decision. ‘I hope their parents look after them properly this time,’ Lucy said.
‘Yes, I’m sure they will,’ I replied. I had to believe it.
Both girls then spent the rest of the evening playing with Molly and Kit, wanting to make the most of their time together. When Adrian came home I told him of the decision.
‘I didn’t see that coming,’ he said, surprised.
‘No. Neither did I.’
‘So the mother was innocent?’
‘I guess so. She had FDIA. I’m hoping to learn more from Tess on Monday.’
That evening I telephoned my mother to tell her of the judge’s ruling. She was shocked to begin with and then said stoically, ‘Well, I suppose he knows what he’s doing.’
‘We hope so,’ I said. I then asked her if it was all right if we visited her on Sunday so she and the children could say goodbye.
‘I’d like that,’ she said, her voice catching.
It would be upsetting for her to have to say goodbye, as it would be for us when the time came, but goodbyes are important and allow everyone to move on, especially the children who would be leaving us. I hoped Molly would have the chance to say goodbye to her friends at nursery, but I wouldn’t know until Tess told me the exact arrangements for the following week.
That evening, once the children were in bed, I went round the house collecting up their toys and returning them to the toy boxes as I did every evening. I tried to picture what it was going to be like once they’d gone, and it was impossible. They were such a part of our home, lives and family, I couldn’t imagine life without them. Foster carers bond with the children they look after, but they also have to remember that the children aren’t theirs and at some point they will very likely go home. Fostering is different to adoption, which is permanent, and the child is legally theirs. If a child is staying with a foster carer long term then, with the agreement of the social services, they can apply to the family court for a residence order, which gives them parenting rights and more permanency.
Now I had to accept that I’d done my job, fulfilled my role, and Molly and Kit were being returned to their parents, difficult though that was going to be for me and my family.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Saying Goodbye
When Tess telephoned on Monday morning she sounded brighter, having recovered from her ordeal in court. I was in a better frame of mind too. We’d had a pleasant afternoon at my mother’s the day before and Mum had stayed positive and had hidden her tears when the time had come for her to say goodbye to Molly and Kit. Tess now told me the arrangements for the week ahead, which I wrote down: the children would have unsupervised community contact today and tomorrow, 3–5 p.m., and I would take and collect them from the Family Centre. On Wednesday, Thursday and Friday I had to take them to their parents’ home for 11 a.m. and collect them at 5 p.m. Filip was having the week off work. On Saturday I would move them home, again arriving at about 11 a.m. Tess suggested I took some of their belongings on each trip. This would help Molly and Kit gradually transfer their feelings of home from my house to theirs, and on a practical level all their belongings wouldn’t fit in my car in one go. Tess said she would visit the family on Monday and then each week for the first month.
‘The children have been returned on a supervision order,’ she said. This would allow the social services to monitor the family for a year, which could be extended if necessary.
‘I was surprised by the judge’s decision,’ I said. ‘Can I ask what the reasoning was behind it?’
‘In a nutshell, the judge was impressed that Aneta recognized what she’d done was wrong and that she’d been suffering from a mental illness, and had put herself in voluntary psychiatric care. The psychologist’s r
eport was positive and he was confident Aneta no longer posed a threat to her children. She’ll be continuing therapy as an outpatient. Aneta was very remorseful, but maintained she didn’t ever harm the children in any other way, and the judge believed her. There wasn’t the evidence to prove other non-accidental injuries, and of course Molly had already admitted to accidently pushing Kit downstairs when he sustained his broken arm. Their lawyer was good. He highlighted Aneta’s abusive childhood and emphasized how much she and Filip loved their children, and that they had cooperated with the social services. When Filip gave evidence, he said he felt he was to blame for not giving his wife more support. He said he was far more aware and involved with his family now. He is going to continue working the early shift and not take on overtime so he can spend more time at home.’ Tess continued to say that the social services were going to put in some help, and Molly and Kit would be going to a nursery that offered parents support five mornings a week.
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘It makes more sense now.’
Tess wound up by saying she’d phone me mid-week to see how the children’s rehabilitation home was going, but that I should call her before if there were any problems.
I replaced the handset and looked at Molly and Kit, who were just finishing their mid-morning snack. They seemed so small and vulnerable. Their lawyer was good, Tess had said, by which she’d meant they’d used the evidence to show the parents in the best possible light, as was their job.
Since I’ve been publishing my fostering memoirs, I regularly receive emails from distraught parents, relatives and friends of a family whose children are in care or are about to be taken into care. Their messages are heart-breaking, but the advice I always give is to seek legal help and try to cooperate with the social services. I appreciate this can be difficult when feelings run high, and it’s easy to blame the social worker and make them an enemy. But it doesn’t help the children or the parents. Their legal team will advise the family of their rights, lead them through the court proceedings and appoint a lawyer to represent them in court. While the children’s safety and welfare will always be paramount, when the case goes to court the parents’ lawyer will make a strong argument for having the children returned to them, while the social services’ lawyer will try to show the opposite. The judge weighs up all the evidence and gives his or her ruling on what is in the best interests of the children.
So the decision had been made for Molly and Kit. Whether I thought it was the correct one wasn’t for me to say. The judge had all the evidence, I did not. All that was left for me to do now was to settle the children back home.
Aneta’s and Filip’s excitement was obvious from the moment I parked outside the Family Centre on Monday afternoon. They were waiting on the pavement ready, coats buttoned up and gloves on. The centre was only being used as a meeting point, so they no longer had to go inside. Filip opened the rear door of the car as soon as I cut the engine.
‘Hello, my beautiful children,’ he said, unfastening their belts and lifting them out.
‘Nice weekend?’ I asked, as I joined them on the pavement.
‘Yes, thank you,’ Aneta replied stiffly.
‘Are you going to the park?’ I asked, making conversation.
‘We can take them wherever we like,’ she returned sharply.
‘I know. I was just wondering.’
‘Yes, we shall be going to the park,’ Filip replied more civilly. ‘Could you bring their bikes tomorrow so they can ride them in the park?’
‘Sure, good idea. You could take them home with you after. I doubt we’ll have time to use them this week and it will be one less thing for me to bring.’
‘Fair enough,’ he said.
Aneta took Molly’s hand and Filip hoisted Kit onto his shoulders, ready to cross the road and head towards the park. I said goodbye and that I’d see them later, and then returned to my car. I felt that Aneta’s sharpness towards me probably stemmed from resentment, partly because I’d been parenting her children, and also, I think, because it was me who had raised the alarm on what she’d been doing to the children’s drinks. Ironically, it was only because I had that she’d been able to receive the help she needed to get better, allowing their family to be together again. I hoped her attitude would improve as the week progressed.
When I returned to collect Molly and Kit, both parents were cool towards me but not hostile. Clearly they’d all had a nice time, and Molly and Kit separated from their parents without too much trouble. The following day it was different. When I collected them from outside the Family Centre they wanted to stay with their parents. Molly clung to her mother and said she wasn’t coming with me and wanted to go home, then Kit copied her. While this was all to be expected, and clearly pleased Aneta, we had to follow Tess’s timetable, and Molly and Kit needed to see us all working together.
Aneta found that difficult. ‘My poor darlings,’ Aneta lamented. ‘I know you don’t want to go with her,’ she kept saying, smothering the children in kisses. I waited patiently on the pavement, and eventually Filip realized his wife’s behaviour wasn’t helping Molly and Kit, so, taking over, he helped me to persuade them into my car.
‘When are we going home with Mummy and Daddy?’ Molly asked moodily as I drove away. ‘Mummy is cross it’s taking long.’
‘You’re going to spend tomorrow with them at home,’ I said. ‘Then you come back with me to sleep.’ She groaned. ‘Wednesday, Thursday and Friday are the same,’ I continued. ‘Then on Saturday you go home for good.’
Molly went very quiet. The transition period when the children are between homes is always difficult, especially when they are young and don’t really understand. I would explain it again later and as often as was needed.
The next day, Wednesday, following Tess’s instructions, I took Molly and Kit to their parents’ for 11 a.m. with some of their possessions. While Molly remembered her home from when she’d lived there, Kit, at his age, didn’t. It would have been appropriate for the parents to invite me in, as it would have given the children a positive message and been more relaxed, but that didn’t happen. Aneta took them from me on the doorstep and disappeared into their ground-floor maisonette, while Filip helped me unload the car. He said goodbye, that he’d see me at 5 p.m., and then closed the door.
When I returned to collect Molly and Kit they’d obviously had a lovely day, and didn’t want to leave, which again was only to be expected. I waited on the doorstep while Aneta and Filip made a half-hearted attempt to persuade them into their coats and shoes, but the children kept running off. ‘They may as well stay,’ Filip said.
‘I can’t just leave them,’ I said. ‘We need to follow Tess’s timetable.’
‘And if we don’t?’ he challenged.
‘You could find yourselves back in court.’
‘Stay there, I’ll get them,’ he told me brusquely, and went inside, closing the front door.
A few minutes later the door opened again. Aneta was smirking conspiratorially, and she and Filip spent some time helping the children into their coats.
‘You take them to her car,’ she told Filip. ‘Make sure she does up their seatbelts properly.’ I ignored the slight.
The children were subdued now, having picked up the atmosphere. ‘I’m going to speak to Tess about these arrangements,’ Filip said sternly to me as we went to the car. ‘I’ll get our lawyer to change them.’
I didn’t tell him that wasn’t going to happen. It was only a few days and there is good reason for gradually rehabilitating the children home, which I knew Tess would have explained to him and Aneta. He returned indoors and Aneta was nowhere to be seen.
‘Why is Daddy upset?’ Molly asked as I pulled away.
‘He and Mummy want you home now, but we have to wait until Saturday. It’s not long. Three more sleeps.’
Molly and Kit were both restless that night, which was only to
be expected with so much going on.
Tess telephoned the following morning, having just spoken to Filip, not his lawyer. She asked me how it was going and I gave her a detailed update. She said she had explained to Filip why the children needed this period of readjustment and that the timetable was still appropriate. When I took Molly and Kit home that morning both parents came to the door, cold but not confrontational. Molly and Kit went inside with Aneta, while Filip helped me unload the car. Then, as had happened the day before, he said goodbye on the doorstep. When I collected Molly and Kit at 5 p.m. their parents were more cooperative and told the children they needed to go with me today. ‘Two more sleeps,’ Aneta said, adopting the phrase I used. ‘Then you come home to Mummy and Daddy for good.’
Meanwhile Adrian, Lucy, Paula and I were gradually coming to terms with the children leaving. There wasn’t the opportunity for Molly to say goodbye to her friends at nursery, but I telephoned the Head and explained why she wouldn’t be returning and thanked her for all she’d done. Neither was there time to give Molly and Kit a leaving party. It was 6 p.m. by the time we returned each day, and they were exhausted and just about managed to stay awake long enough to have some dinner before going to bed. I brought them a leaving gift and we all signed the card.
On Saturday morning, the day of Molly and Kit’s departure, Paula, Lucy and Adrian forwent their usual lie-in so they could see them off. It’s bittersweet when children leave. You’re pleased they can return home, but at the same time you know you’re going to miss them dreadfully and life won’t be the same for a long time to come. My family put on brave faces. Lucy and Paula helped the children into their coats and shoes, while Adrian helped me load the last of their belongings into the car, including the soft toys they slept with. I checked the house for any stray items, and then it was time to say goodbye.
‘Give me a high-five,’ Adrian said to Kit. He laughed and slapped the palm of Adrian’s hand. ‘Bye, Molly, look after your brother,’ Adrian said to her. She wanted a high-five too.