by Angela Hart
Jonathan and I would miss her terribly, of course, but that was not the priority. Grace’s happiness, now and in the future, was what mattered. Though Colette and Lily both seemed to have mellowed since Harley was born, I really wasn’t convinced that the family home was the best place for her, as both women still seemed to live quite chaotic lives. Grace had told me tales of rows with the neighbours, disagreements with other family members, drunken nights out and run-ins with officials about housing benefit and unpaid bills. I had heard that, because of the baby, Social Services still had the family on their radar.
I didn’t underestimate how important it was to Grace to see Harley grow up, but it wasn’t as if she’d never see him. She could visit every weekend if she wanted to. When Robbie had passed his driving test we’d talked about booking some lessons for Grace’s seventeenth birthday, which was only a few months away. She was very keen on this and had talked about buying a car with the modelling money she had saved, saying how much easier it would be to visit her family when she had her own transport.
‘Angela!’ a voice called.
I was startled and I jumped out of my skin. ‘Angela, are you all right?’ It was Barbara, and she was thrusting a tissue at me. I hadn’t realised how deep in thought I’d been. ‘Take this. Here, let me help you. Are you OK?’
‘Fine, yes. Oh!’ I looked down and saw blood on my hands. I’d been preparing a bouquet of roses and I must have pricked myself on a thorn while my mind was wandering, thinking everything through about Grace.
There was a lull in the shop now, and Barbara told me again that she could hold the fort, if I wanted her to.
‘OK, I think I will take a quick break. I’ll bring you a cup of tea when I come back.’
I went into the kitchen and found Grace making a sandwich. She appeared much calmer and more relaxed than she had been when she first came back and made her announcement in the shop.
‘Can I get you anything?’ she asked politely.
‘I was just going to make a cup of tea.’
‘Sit down, I’ll do it for you.’
‘Thanks.’
Grace seemed sheepish, I thought. I guessed she must have been feeling sorry for the way she’d behaved over the last couple of weeks, and in the shop earlier on.
I’d always made an effort to accommodate her impulsiveness and the lack of control she sometimes displayed, as I knew it was down to her ADHD. It must have been very difficult to be in her shoes, and I didn’t want to make her suffer. After years of being made to feel like the black sheep of the family, I couldn’t blame Grace for the way she’d responded to Lily’s dilemma.
I’d learned that Grace was a natural people-pleaser. She always liked to show willing, and for years she’d been looking for any kind of positive endorsement from her family. Unfortunately, her condition sometimes meant that she was over-exuberant and jumped in feet first when really she needed to stop and think. I realised it was for this reason, and not because she was insensitive, that she hadn’t been able to help herself from telling me what was on her mind the minute she returned from her mother’s. I knew full well that Grace wore her heart on her sleeve, she made rash decisions and her mood could change like the wind. I had to keep trying to be understanding, and I reasoned to myself that her outburst about moving out would no doubt have been an example of her hot-headedness, and that nothing would really come of it.
‘I’ve got you these,’ Grace said, handing me a carrier bag. ‘Sorry they’re not wrapped.’
I opened the bag and lifted out the gift. It was a beautiful pair of woollen gloves, in a shade of blue I loved.
‘Grace! They’re gorgeous. Thank you so much. You shouldn’t have. It’s not my birthday, why did you get me a present?’
‘I saw them and just thought you’d like them.’ She told me which shop they came from and I realised she must have bought them that day she went to the shopping centre with the gift vouchers she received from work. When she’d dashed upstairs that day, hiding something behind her back, it had been this same carrier bag.
‘I wanted to say thank you, for helping me get my job and, well, for everything. I’m sorry about all the, like, hassle. I want you to know, I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’m sorry.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. As I’ve always said, Grace, you can talk to me about anything you like. Please come to me and talk to me if there is anything at all you want to have a chat about. There’s no need to do anything behind my back. You can always come to me. I have nothing but your best interests at heart.’
‘I will. You’re the best. My mum still thinks you and Jonathan are only in this for the money, but I know better!’
Grace meant this as a compliment, but it didn’t quite come out that way!
She returned to work without a problem the following Monday. I never found out the ins and outs, but she told me she had sorted everything out with her employer. I assumed she had continued with the lie about being sick during her two-week absence, but I’m not sure. I’d made it plain I did not approve if that was the case, and I think she got the message that she must never do that again. At last I started to relax about what Grace had said about moving out; clearly she’d blurted this out in the heat of the moment and was not going to do anything rash.
A couple of weeks later, Jonathan and I went to see her performing in the musical she’d been rehearsing for. Despite only having a minor role, Grace stole the show. Her voice was beautiful and, whenever she was on stage, you couldn’t take your eyes off her.
‘I know I’m biased, but she’s absolutely brilliant,’ I said to Jonathan.
‘Is that your daughter?’ the lady sitting next to me said. ‘She’s got real talent. You must be very proud.’
‘We’re extremely proud,’ Jonathan said. He squeezed my hand and we exchanged a glance. ‘She’s a star.’
We didn’t do it often, but that evening we allowed ourselves a pat on the back. Grace had come such a long way, and we felt privileged to have played a supporting role in her journey.
We had one of our regular Social Services placement meetings the following week. As Grace would soon turn seventeen her social worker, who was a new recruit called Glynn, was focused on her care plan ‘going forward’. He talked about Grace moving into supported lodgings which, as I explained earlier, was the usual procedure in those days.
‘We’re in no hurry for her to move out,’ Jonathan said. Glynn then started talking about money and funding. ‘As you know, our policy is to encourage kids to move on at some point during their sixteenth year.’ He started to discuss the fact that funding for Grace’s foster care place would eventually run out.
Jonathan told Glynn that money was not an issue and we would do whatever was best for Grace. If she wanted to stay with us indefinitely, she was very welcome. This was something we’d discussed and both felt strongly about, and we’d made this plain to Grace too.
Glynn had chatted to Grace privately before he spoke to us. To our relief, she had told him she wanted to stay with us until she had finished her apprenticeship, the following September.
‘That’s great news,’ I said. ‘I think that’s for the best, and hopefully she’ll be kept on at the same firm. She can stay with us until she’s good and ready to move on.’
‘Agreed,’ Jonathan said.
Glynn seemed very happy with this. He thanked us and left. I felt very relieved and pleased about what Grace had told him; this meant she would be with us for at least another nine months, and hopefully longer. Barry, incidentally, had moved to another area and continued working as a social worker until his retirement. We felt he’d done a good job for Grace and were sorry to lose him.
Life returned to normal, and the weeks seem to whizz by in the run-up to Christmas. Grace was extremely busy, going to parties, socialising with her work colleagues, keeping up with her old school friends and taking part in a Christmas carol concert put on by the musical theatre group.
She had spent the
last six Christmases with us, but this year Grace decided to spend it at home. She was desperate to spend the day with Harley and, though we would miss her, Jonathan and I understood and supported this decision. I enjoyed helping Grace pick out some little clothes for Harley, including a hat with Santa on it.
Jonathan and I gave Grace a present to open on Christmas Day – we’d got her two tickets for a show she wanted to see in the city – and we waved her off at the bus stop, asking her to call us when she arrived at her mum’s house. She did, and on Christmas Day we called her on her mobile. She was thrilled with the tickets and said we were ‘the best’. She also said she wanted to take me with her to see the show.
‘Are you sure? You can take anyone you like.’
‘I know. I want to take you.’
I told her I was very touched, as I’d expected her to take Robbie. Jonathan and I both wished Grace a very happy Christmas and asked her to give our best wishes to the family. Very unexpectedly, Colette came on the phone. She told me she was grateful for all we’d done for her daughter over the years. I think she’d had a few drinks, but nevertheless that’s what she said and I was grateful for her kind words.
‘Grace is such a lovely girl,’ I replied. ‘I’m so pleased that she’s doing so well.’
It wasn’t until a week later that I looked back and realised what Colette was actually saying to me on Christmas Day. She was thanking me for everything we’d done over the years because she knew something I didn’t. The truth was, she and Lily had finally convinced Grace, once and for all, that it would be a good idea if she moved back in with them permanently, and Grace had agreed.
Grace told me all of this in a breathless, rushed conversation when she returned to our house fleetingly on New Year’s Day. We’d been out visiting friends and Jonathan had dropped me home and gone to the garage to fill up the car with petrol. The first sign that something was wrong was when I walked in the front door and saw Grace’s luggage stacked up in the hallway. It was an awful shock; it was one of those moments when you feel your blood run cold and your breath catches in your throat.
There was no sign of the old grey suitcase, but several of Grace’s holdalls and rucksacks were there, bulging at the seams. She’d obviously helped herself to some bin bags too.
‘What’s going on?’ I gasped as Grace appeared on the stairs.
‘I’m going home. I’m moving back home, for good.’ She blurted out that her mum and sister really wanted her to move back and she loved being there. ‘It’s my family, I can’t say no. I mean, I want to go. It’s what I’ve always wanted.’
Grace couldn’t look me in the eye.
‘But Grace, what about your job?’
‘I know, but I’ll manage. Family is the most important thing. I’m only young.’
Yet again I had the uncomfortable feeling that Grace was regurgitating something that somebody else had dripped into her ear. The doorbell rang as I stood rooted to the spot, trying to take all this in. Grace rushed to answer it and, much to my surprise, Lily appeared. I hadn’t seen her for more than six years, but it seemed like yesterday. The curled lip was the same. The rude manner and attitude took me right back. Nothing appeared to have changed, except for the fact her hair was now blonde.
‘Ready?’ she said to Grace curtly, completely ignoring me as she barged into the hallway uninvited. ‘All this to go?’
‘Yep,’ Grace said. She looked mortified but said nothing to me and started carrying her belongings out to Lily’s car.
‘Grace, are you sure about this?’
I stood on the pavement outside the house, watching the two sisters load the boot.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Like I said, family is important, isn’t it? I need to . . . I, like, want to do this. Sorry.’
Lily gave me a valedictory look as they drove off minutes later. I was wiping away my tears in the kitchen when Jonathan came back from the petrol station.
‘I can’t believe it,’ I said. ‘I just can’t believe it.’
‘Nor can I. Are you sure she’s serious?’
‘Absolutely. You should have seen Lily’s face. She thinks she’s won.’
‘Has Grace taken everything?’
‘I don’t know, but probably not. I haven’t been up to her room, I can’t face it. But she took a lot with her.’
I thought about calling Social Services and leaving a message with the duty officer, to let them know the situation, but I decided to leave it until the next day. Though this felt like an emergency to us, it wasn’t a situation Social Services needed to respond to urgently. Grace was over the age of sixteen and could have legally moved into a place of her own by now. The fact she was living with her mother and her sister would not give Social Services any cause for concern as, in the eyes of the care system, she was old enough to make her own mind up, and there had never been any restrictions on Grace staying in the family home.
Jonathan made us a cup of tea and we sat at the kitchen table and chatted for a while. The atmosphere was very subdued and we both took it in turns to offer words of comfort to the other: ‘She’ll come round’, ‘she’ll soon get fed up’, ‘she’ll miss her life here’. Neither of us had a clue if any of these platitudes would turn out to be true; it was wishful thinking.
‘It’s the apprenticeship I’m really gutted about,’ I said. ‘She did so well to get on it, and things were going so well.’
‘I know. She’s made such a bad decision. Why didn’t she hang on until September at least? She’s already done three months and that went by in a flash.’
‘I have a theory about the timing,’ I said. ‘But I hope I’m wrong.’
I didn’t have to spell out to Jonathan what I was thinking. We’d talked about this before and he knew all too well what was on my mind. Of course, we were all too familiar with the scenario where a parent who has been resistant to caring for their child suddenly wants them back at the point when they are capable of earning money and paying keep.
‘I just hope Lily doesn’t start bullying her and leaning on her,’ Jonathan said.
‘I’m afraid it may be too late for that.’
I loaded the dishwasher and went up to Grace’s bedroom. It didn’t even look like she’d moved out, which was comforting, up to a point. I’d have been devastated if she’d completely cleared her room out, but her posters were still on the walls, there were lots of clothes hanging in the wardrobe and all sorts of belongings scattered around the room. This gave me hope that she’d left the door open and might come back, but I knew there was no guarantee. Perhaps she would simply come back and collect the rest of her things another day, or maybe she just didn’t want all this stuff.
I looked to the top of the wardrobe and was surprised that her old grey suitcase was missing. I hadn’t seen her take that with her and wondered where it had gone.
The Christmas decorations were still up. Normally I leave everything out until 5 January, but I felt miserable when I looked at the baubles and sprigs of holly and twinkling lights. Suddenly, everything felt so meaningless. I could picture Grace in years gone by, getting out of bed at four in the morning and knocking on our bedroom door, asking if it was too early to open presents. One year we got her a karaoke machine and she sang her heart out for about three days solid. Then there was the Christmas when she bought herself a present and wrapped it up and put it under the tree. She’d saved up her pocket money and bought a CD of her favourite band, as she was worried nobody would get it for her!
Our Christmas tree had dropped a lot of its needles and was looking a bit sorry for itself. I used this as an excuse to take it down; I just didn’t want to look at it any more. The rest of the decorations could stay. We had two other teenagers in the house, and for their sake I didn’t think it was fair to erase Christmas completely, not just yet.
After I’d packed away all the baubles and lights off the tree I asked Jonathan to give me a hand taking it outside. Together, we carried the tree down the stairs and out into the
back garden, ready to take it to the tip.
‘Let’s put it by the wheelie bin.’ As I spoke, I glanced over to the shelter where we kept the bins. Wedged down the side was Grace’s old, grey suitcase. Jonathan and I both stopped in our tracks and stared at it.
‘I wonder why she did that?’ he said.
I found myself smiling. ‘Do you know what? I don’t blame her for throwing that old thing away. In fact, I’m glad she’s finally got rid of it. Who knows what will happen next, but at least Grace will never have to go through the ordeal of moving to another foster home.’
Jonathan gave me a smile. ‘Now that’s a positive spin, if ever I heard one.’
Though Grace’s future was uncertain, we both took comfort from the fact that her placement with us had been a success. We had broken the cycle she had been through so many times before, of moving from one foster home to the next. We’d had the honour of raising Grace for six years and, despite the difficulties she’d had to contend with, she had grown into a wonderful young woman.
22
‘You are not her foster mum any more’
Grace called me the day after she left. She wanted to say sorry again for moving out in such a hurry, and she asked if we could make arrangements to go to the concert she had the tickets for. I said that, yes, I’d still love to go to the concert.
‘Whatever happens, Jonathan and I always want to keep in touch with you, Grace. And if you want to come back, any time, the door will be open for you.’
Though I didn’t think Grace had any intention of coming back to live with us I could tell she appreciated the offer. It proved to her that, come what may, we genuinely cared about her and had her best interests at heart.
‘Thanks. That’s kind, but I think I’ve kind of made my mind up this time. You’ve been so good to me, but I’m ready to move on. I think it’s all going to work out well – me being at my mum’s, I mean.’