by Cathy Glass
‘Yes, don’t worry about me,’ I said. ‘I’ll be fine. I’m going to take Dawn to school.’
Had I known what lay in wait for us in the months ahead, I would have answered ‘No, I won’t be all right, and neither is Dawn.’
Chapter Five
A Warning
I finished feeding Adrian and then changed his nappy, dressed him in a clean Babygro and resettled him in his cot while I washed and dressed. There was still no sound coming from Dawn’s bedroom to suggest she was awake, and it was now 7.50 a.m. We needed to leave the house by 8.30 if she was to arrive at school on time. I had anticipated waking Dawn at seven on a weekday, which would give her plenty of time to wash and have breakfast, but with the broken night and oversleeping, that routine would have to be postponed until the following day.
I could have woken Dawn before I went into the bathroom, but I knew I was putting off facing her. Although the happenings of the night seemed less sinister now it was a new day, I still felt some unease and also trepidation. I didn’t know what to expect, and what I was going to say to her? Would she remember what had happened? Did sleepwalkers remember their nocturnal wanderings? I’d no idea.
As I washed, I briefly wondered if we should have a lock fitted to our bedroom door to stop Dawn if she tried to come in again. Then I caught myself. Don’t be so silly, I told myself; Dawn is a thirteen-year-old girl who became unsettled by spending her first night in a strange room, not something we had to lock out.
Washed, dressed, and as refreshed as I was going to be after the disturbed night, I collected Adrian from his cot and went to Dawn’s room. The door was still shut, and there was no sound of movement coming from the other side. I knew teenagers liked their sleep: Jack would have slept away entire weekends had John or I not woken him. Now it was nearly eight o’clock and I knew I had to wake Dawn. I still hesitated. I hadn’t yet worked out what I was going to say to her or how to approach what had happened. Would she look or behave any differently? Admonishing myself again, I knocked on the door and slowly opened it.
The room was lit by the early morning light and Dawn was in her bed, on her side, and fast asleep. Relieved to find she was still sleeping, I crossed to her bed. I didn’t know what I had expected, but in sleep she looked so peaceful and serene that all my previous anxieties vanished.
‘Dawn?’ I said gently. ‘Dawn, love, it’s time to get up. It’s nearly eight o’clock.’
She didn’t stir; her breathing continued deep and uninterrupted. The poor kid was tired out and making up for lost sleep.
‘Dawn, love,’ I said again, a little louder. ‘It’s Cathy. Time to wake up.’ I placed my hand lightly on her shoulder and gently rocked her. Her eyes slowly opened and, still on her side, she looked at me. ‘Hi, love. It’s morning,’ I said. ‘Do you remember where you are?’ Whenever I was away from home, on holiday, I woke on the first morning wondering where I was.
She looked at me, blinked, and then smiled. ‘Hi, Cathy,’ she said brightly. ‘Hi, Adrian, how are you?’ She sat up in bed and, reaching out, lightly stroked his arm. I chided myself for entertaining the fears I had about seeing her again.
‘Dawn, I’m sorry, love,’ I said. ‘But we’ve overslept. You’ll have to wash and dress very quickly – otherwise we’ll be late.’
‘No problems,’ she said, throwing back the duvet and getting out of bed (a lot quicker than Jack ever had).
‘I’ll fix your breakfast while you’re in the bathroom,’ I said. ‘What would you like?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t usually have breakfast, just a drink.’
In her pyjamas I could see just how slim she was – too slim I thought. ‘I’d like you to have something,’ I said. ‘It’s good to have some breakfast, even if it’s just a slice of toast and a drink.’
‘OK, toast. Thanks.’
‘Good girl. What would you like on your toast? Jam, marmalade, honey – or Jack used to have peanut butter?’ She pulled a face. ‘No, I agree,’ I said with a laugh. ‘I couldn’t stomach peanut butter either first thing in the morning. How about toast and honey?’
‘Yes, but only one slice please.’
I smiled, ‘Sure.’ I opened the curtains and then reminded her to wear her clean jeans and jumper for school. ‘I’ll explain to the Head,’ I said. ‘And we’ll go shopping after school and buy you some new underwear and clothes.’
‘Are you coming to collect me from school?’ she asked.
‘Yes, for today. Then you can come home on the bus, if you like.’
‘That’s fine,’ she said amicably. Dawn was the same cooperative and pleasant child she had been the evening before, and I again chided myself for thinking she would be any different – she was only a girl who had been sleepwalking, not some malevolent changeling.
I hesitated before going out of the room, and looked at her as she gathered up her clean clothes. ‘Did you sleep well, Dawn?’
‘Yes thanks. Did you?’
‘Not really. John and I were up twice in the night.’ I watched her for any sign that she could remember.
‘What, with Adrian?’ she asked, meeting my gaze. ‘Babies have to be fed in the night, don’t they?’
‘Yes,’ I said, still looking at her. ‘I’m glad you slept all right because sometimes it can be a bit unsettling sleeping somewhere different. But you were OK?’
‘Yes, fine. It’s a very comfortable bed.’
‘Great,’ I said brightly, and left her to get ready.
Going downstairs, I decided that Dawn had no idea she had been sleepwalking, and I saw no point in telling her. It could have been very embarrassing for her to learn that she had been wandering around in her pyjamas in the middle of the night, with no knowledge of, or control over, what she had been doing. Telling her was likely to make her even more anxious. I came to the conclusion therefore that just as some people grind their teeth or talk in their sleep when anxious, Dawn had been sleepwalking because she’d become unsettled by spending her first night in a strange room. Perhaps she had drawn comfort from coming into our bedroom and ‘seeing’ us, and Adrian. Clearly the experience, and whatever had brought her to us in the middle of the night, was in her subconscious, where I thought it should stay.
In the kitchen, I sat Adrian in his recliner so that he could see me, and I dropped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster and set about making myself a cup of coffee. I now felt a lot happier, having seen Dawn, and also very positive. Dawn was a lovely kid, and although I remained a little concerned about her being too compliant, my worries about her sleepwalking had now gone. I was looking forward to getting to know Dawn and, supporting and helping her in any way I could. I was also looking forward to having another female in the house – at present I was outnumbered by John and Adrian – and I envisaged Dawn and myself chatting like mother and daughter. How long Dawn would be staying with us, I’d no idea. But from what I knew of her previous behaviour, I suspected her parents hadn’t provided much in the way of parenting. I felt sorry for Dawn. At thirteen, with all the changes and conflicting emotions that accompanies being a teenager, when support, understanding and reassurance is most needed, Dawn had just been left to get on with it.
Five minutes later Dawn appeared, washed and dressed. ‘I’m sorry to be a nuisance, Cathy,’ she said, hesitantly, ‘but I haven’t got a hairbrush. Have you got a spare one, please?’
‘Yes, I think I so. You sit down and have your toast and juice while I pop upstairs and try to find it.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, and she smiled at Adrian.
I gave Dawn her toast and juice and left her eating at the table in the dining area of the kitchen, with Adrian watching her from his recliner, while I went upstairs. I knew I had a spare hairbrush somewhere – it had been part of a set given to me by an aunt at Christmas – but I spent some minutes rummaging through the drawers in my bedroom, not sure where I had put it. Eventually I discovered it at the bottom of my underwear drawer and I quickly returned downstairs
.
‘Oh!’ I said with a start as I entered the kitchen. Dawn had taken Adrian out of his recliner and had him sitting on her lap at the table. ‘Be careful he doesn’t fall,’ I said, going straight to the table.
‘I am careful,’ Dawn said, lightly bouncing Adrian on her lap. ‘He’s having a bit of breakfast.’ I looked at Adrian and saw he had something in his mouth, which he was trying to spit out. I quickly lifted him off Dawn’s lap and opened his mouth. A large lump of toast was lodged at the back of his mouth and I hooked it out with my forefinger.
‘Dawn, love,’ I said, ‘you can’t give him toast! He’s only sixteen weeks old. He hasn’t any teeth. He can’t chew it. He would choke.’ I checked his mouth to make sure it was empty.
‘I’m sorry, Cathy, I didn’t realise.’
‘No, OK. But don’t give him anything again, will you, love? And also I would rather you left him in his recliner. You can hold him by all means, but please wait until I’m with you. He’s very precious, all right?’
She nodded agreeably. As she was unaware of the danger of giving a baby something hard to eat, or what could happen if a baby fell from a lap, I could hardly tell her off. But it was a warning to me that I should not assume a girl of thirteen would know such things – I’m sure I didn’t at her age – and I needed to be more vigilant.
Chapter Six
No Homework
St James’s School was a medium-sized comprehensive, catering for boys and girls from the ages of twelve to eighteen. I had driven past it on a number of occasions but had never been in. I knew it had a good reputation and was generally held by parents to be better than the other secondary school in the area. Jack’s school had been further away, on the edge of the county, near where his parents lived; he had continued going there when he had stayed with us to avoid disrupting his education. The building was about fifty years old and fronted the road. Its playing fields were at the rear, together with a large extension, which had been recently added to accommodate the ever-increasing local school population.
I parked in a side road and reached into the back of the car for my large shoulder bag, which had become my constant companion since I’d had Adrian. It contained clean nappies, baby wipes, a small bottle of boiled water, and a rattle and a dummy in case he became restless. Then I carefully lifted Adrian out from his baby seat.
‘Shall I carry him?’ Dawn immediately asked. Already standing on the pavement, she stretched out her arms ready to receive him. ‘You’re with me, and I won’t drop him.’
I looked at the hard concrete pavement. ‘No, it’s all right, thanks, love. I can manage.’ She wasn’t offended by my refusal, and I recognised she only wanted to help but, again, I could see the dangers where a thirteen-year-old could not. I briefly wondered if her enthusiasm for helping with Adrian was going to cause a problem.
Dawn and I joined the other pupils who were heading towards the main entrance, and followed a couple of boys up the stone steps and through the open double doors. Reception was immediately on the right and the sliding glass partition doors were closed. Repositioning Adrian in my arms, I pressed the bell for attention. Dawn hadn’t said anything since leaving the car, not even to Adrian, to whom she had chatted constantly during the journey.
‘Are you all right?’ I asked her, as we waited for the reception bell to be answered. Dawn nodded but didn’t say anything.
Pupils streamed along the corridor behind us and then a siren signalling the start of school suddenly went off over our heads. Adrian nearly leapt out of my arms with fright and I held him close and rocked him. ‘That was loud,’ I said to Dawn when the noise had stopped.
‘I have to go to my lessons now. I can’t be late.’
‘All right. You join your class while I see someone here. If your teacher asks why you’re not in uniform, explain I am seeing the Head.’
She nodded, and kissed Adrian’s cheek, and then mine.
‘Have a good day,’ I said. ‘I’ll wait for you outside. Three fifteen, isn’t it?’
‘It’ll take me five minutes to get out.’
‘OK, love. See you later.’
She gave Adrian another kiss and then disappeared down the corridor with the other students. I pressed the buzzer again at reception and a woman finally appeared behind the glass partition and slid open one of the doors.
‘Yes?’ she asked, brusquely.
‘My name is Cathy Glass. Dawn Jennings is staying with me. I’m her foster carer.’
‘Dawn Jennings? Which class is she in?’
I hadn’t thought to ask Dawn. ‘I’m not sure. She’s thirteen.’
‘That’s the second year.’ She paused. ‘Oh yes, Dawn Jennings. She hasn’t been here long, has she?’
‘I really don’t know. I’d like to speak to someone about Dawn. Is the Head available? Or the Deputy?’
‘At this time of day? You must be joking! They’re busy. And her teacher will be with her in the classroom for registration. Can’t you come back later?’
‘I could,’ I said, not appreciating her manner. ‘But Dawn isn’t in school uniform, and I wanted to explain the reason to someone. And also have a chat about Dawn.’
She hesitated. ‘Stay there.’ She closed the glass partition and went to a desk behind her, where she picked up a phone. As the noise level in the corridor rose with the last of the pupils running in to avoid being late, I rocked Adrian. I saw the receptionist put down the phone, and then the glass door slid open again.
‘You’re in luck,’ she said. ‘The Head of Year can see you for a few minutes. Wait over there.’ She pointed across the corridor to an open door.
‘Thank you,’ I said.
I went over to the waiting room, where there were four wooden chairs and a small table displaying copies of the school prospectus. I sat down and resettled Adrian on my lap. He was busy looking around, although there wasn’t much to see. The walls were light grey and blank, except for a couple of road safety posters warning children about the hazards of crossing a road. I slid my bag from my shoulder and took out Adrian’s rattle, which I tucked into his hand. He grinned, waved it around and threw it on the floor. I picked it up and tucked it into his hand again, and he threw it straight down. ‘I think you’re having a game with me,’ I said as I bent to retrieve it. He giggled and kicked his feet in the air. I tucked the rattle into my coat pocket in case he needed it later.
‘Mrs Glass?’ A smartly dressed woman in her mid-thirties appeared through the doorway. ‘I’m Jane Matthews, Dawn’s Head of Year.’ I shook her hand and she smiled at Adrian. ‘I thought Dawn was in a teenage residential home?’ she asked, sitting in the adjacent chair.
‘She was for three days. But she came to me yesterday evening. I wanted to introduce myself, and also to let you know that Dawn hasn’t got her school uniform with her. I’ll be buying a replacement this afternoon. I didn’t want her to get in trouble.’
Jane Matthews looked at me carefully. ‘To be honest, Dawn is rarely in school uniform anyway, and come to that she’s rarely in school.’
‘That will change now,’ I said. ‘She seems to have been very unsettled at home, and to have spent most of her time going between her mum and dad’s.’
‘They’re divorced, aren’t they?’
‘So I believe.’
‘Let me make a note of your contact details. I’ll get some paper.’ She disappeared across the corridor and into the reception office, reappearing with a sheet of paper and a biro. Jane Matthews seemed efficient yet approachable, and I was hoping to learn more about Dawn’s background. Sitting down beside me again, she headed the paper ‘Dawn Jennings’ and wrote my name beneath it. I gave her my address and telephone number.
‘Which shop do I buy her uniform from?’ I asked, aware that different schools had different supply outlets.
‘Gray’s, in town. Do you know it?’
‘Yes, it’s in the High Street, isn’t it?’ She nodded. ‘I want to give Dawn any help I can with he
r school work,’ I said.
‘Good. If Dawn comes to school regularly it will help. Her attendance has been appalling. We’ve sent numerous letters to mum, asking her to come in and talk to us but she hasn’t taken up any of the appointments. We’ve tried phoning, but she’s never there, and we don’t have a phone number for dad.’
I nodded. ‘Dawn doesn’t seem to like school. I don’t know why. Can you think of a reason?’
‘Not really, other than that she hasn’t been here long enough to make friends. She only started at this school in September, and since then she’s missed more days than she’s put in. She does the work set in class but as far as I’m aware has never handed in a piece of homework.”
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I didn’t realise it was that bad. I know very little about Dawn’s background. Can you tell me anything?’
‘Unfortunately not. Dawn’s notes are very thin. She attended a school in Manchester for a while and also one in Gatesby. I think she’s been a poor school attender from the beginning. How long will she be staying with you?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I’m hoping her social worker will let me know what’s happening.’
‘Hopefully she will let us know too. We can’t support a child if we’re not kept informed.’ I nodded in agreement. ‘Dawn is quite an able child,’ Jane Matthews continued, ‘but she is well behind in her education. Hopefully she will start to catch up now. She seems likeable enough; there haven’t been any incidents. But as I said, she’s hardly been here, so I don’t really know her.’ She leant forward and smiled at Adrian. ‘He’s a real cutie, is he your first?’
I smiled. ‘Yes. Does it show?’
‘No, I just wondered. My husband and I have been trying for a baby for some time, but the years are passing.’