by Cathy Glass
‘Thank you,’ the IRO said, and smiled at me. ‘I have the review forms here that Cathy and Anna have completed,’ he continued, and opened Anna’s. ‘Thank you for helping Anna to complete it,’ he said to me. He knew this from the line at the end of the form where the person giving help writes their name and relationship to the child. ‘It’s important the review hears the child’s views, so I will read out the questions and Anna’s replies. ‘The first question asks, do you know why you are in care? And Anna replied, “Because I have been bad at home.”’
I heard Lori draw a sharp breath, while Jill said, ‘Oh dear,’ and Miss Rich’s face fell. Pitiful though Anna’s words were, they didn’t hold the same impact for me now as when I’d first heard them.
‘I reassured her that wasn’t so,’ I told the review.
The IRO nodded and looked at Lori. ‘Perhaps you could follow that up next time you see Anna and reinforce that she isn’t to blame for coming into care.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Lori said.
‘The next question,’ the IRO continued, ‘asks if the child knows who their social worker is, and Anna said she didn’t so Cathy reminded her. The next asks if the child wants to see more of their social worker and her reply was, “No.”’
‘Show me a child who does,’ Lori said stoically.
‘What do you like about living with your foster carer?’ the IRO continued reading from Anna’s review form. ‘Anna said, “Nothing.” The next question asks what the child doesn’t like about living with their carer and Anna said, “Cathy, Adrian and Paula” – they are your children?’ he asked, glancing up at me.
‘Yes.’
‘Their cat, their house and having to stay in her own bed,’ he continued.
‘Don’t take it to heart,’ Jill said to me.
‘The next two questions concern the child’s last review so Cathy has written not applicable. The following is about her friends, and Anna said she doesn’t know who her friends are, nor if she wants to see more of them.’ He looked at Miss Rich. ‘Doesn’t she have friends at school? Most children her age do.’
‘Anna finds it difficult to make friends,’ Miss Rich replied. ‘The children are wary of her controlling manner and outbursts of rage. We are teaching her to share and how to relate to her peers. She is joining in more with group activities within the class and team games in PE.’
‘Thank you,’ the IRO said, making a note. ‘The next question asks who the child would tell if something was worrying her and Anna replied, “Mrs Taylor.”’
‘That’s her class teacher,’ Miss Rich qualified.
‘Well, that’s positive. Anna knows she has someone she can talk to,’ the IRO said.
‘Mrs Taylor is fantastic with Anna,’ Miss Rich said passionately. ‘She has two nephews who are adopted so knows some of the challenges and issues parents can face. She always makes time for Anna and was working closely with her parents. She was devastated when Anna had to go into care. Cathy has met her.’ I nodded.
The IRO made a note and looked at Anna’s review form again. I felt my pulse quicken. He had arrived at the last question and I thought of Anna’s response. ‘The final question asks if the child wants to ask anything,’ the IRO read. ‘Anna said she would like to know when she can see her mummy.’
There was silence. You could have heard a pin drop. Everyone in the room had heard what Lori had said and knew it wasn’t possible, and it was heartbreaking. I looked at the sombre expressions of those gathered around the table, all of us wanting Anna to be happy. ‘It’s so very sad,’ Miss Rich said, close to tears. ‘I knew her parents well, especially her mother, Elaine. We worked together to try to help Anna. We did everything we could, so did Mrs Taylor. We never thought it would come to this.’ I saw her bottom lip tremble.
‘It’s not your fault,’ Lori said. ‘I’ll speak to the mother again to see if I can persuade her to change her mind and see her daughter. Even if a child isn’t returning home, it’s in their best interest to have some contact with the parents.’
‘Thank you,’ the IRO said. He set the date for the next review and closed the meeting.
I left the room with Miss Rich, as Jill was staying behind to talk to Lori. ‘Is there really no hope of Anna going home?’ she asked once outside, still visibly upset.
‘I honestly don’t know,’ I said.
‘If Anna can’t go home, will she be able to stay with you?’ she asked as Mrs Taylor had done.
‘It will depend on the social services.’
She shook her head sadly. ‘She’s not a bad kid.’
‘No,’ I agreed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Frightened of Her Daughter
Anna wasn’t a ‘bad kid’, to use Miss Rich’s term, but she was putting my family and me under huge strain. I usually saw my parents every couple of weeks but with everything going on around Anna, time had slipped by. Also, I wasn’t sure if I should subject my parents to the stress of spending a day with Anna, unkind though that may sound. But when Mum invited us again to their house for Sunday dinner we decided they’d come to us, as I thought Anna would feel more secure being on familiar territory, and also when she did kick off the damage would be done at my home and not at my parents’. They knew Anna had challenging behaviour because of what she’d been through as a child and were very understanding and sympathetic, but the day turned out to be a disaster.
Perhaps Anna thought she could get away with negative behaviour, as we had guests, possibly because she had done at home, or maybe she was jealous of Adrian and Paula. I don’t know, but she made herself as objectionable as possible right from the start. My parents gave Anna as much attention as they did Adrian and Paula, but it wasn’t enough for Anna. She wouldn’t settle to anything and didn’t want anyone else to either. She over-talked loudly if anyone tried to speak, to the point of shouting so no one could get a word in. She kept putting herself physically between my parents and Adrian and Paula to stop any interaction. She tormented Toscha by screaming at the poor cat until she fled outside, which upset Adrian and Paula and worried my parents. She pushed Paula off a chair simply because my mother was admiring the badge she was wearing, and kept ‘bumping’ into Adrian whenever he was close by. Mum told her off about it, but she put her hands over her ears and yelled rudely that she couldn’t hear her, as she did sometimes with me.
Usually I kept a close eye on Anna and didn’t let her out of my sight for long. Aware of this, she made a point of repeatedly disappearing upstairs so that I had to stop what I was doing to go up and bring her down, which of course took a while, as Anna never did anything the first time of asking. At the dinner table she tipped juice all over Adrian’s new jersey and trousers that he was wearing for the first time especially for Nana and Grandpa’s visit. I saw the look of satisfaction on her face as I mopped it up and then he left to change. The whole day was pitted with similar disruptive incidents and my parents understandably decided to leave early. Dad said he was concerned that Anna’s behaviour was upsetting my mother.
‘How long do you think she’ll be staying with you?’ he asked as they said goodbye, also worried at the effect it was having on us.
‘I’m not sure yet,’ I said. ‘But don’t worry. I can handle it.’
He looked doubtful.
‘Let us know if there is anything we can do to help,’ Mum said. ‘I’m sure Anna will settle down soon.’ Mum always looks on the positive side – a glass-half-full, not empty, type of person.
We said goodbye and I went upstairs to find Anna again. She was in Paula’s room, trying to break the head off her best doll. I told her off and said she would have an early night, which of course led to a full-scale tantrum. As Paula was still downstairs, Anna didn’t see why she shouldn’t be too.
‘But she’s been good,’ I said, loathing myself for having to say this, but Anna needed to learn.
‘Hate you,’ she said. ‘Hate your parents. They’re horrible.’ She stuck out her tongue to em
phasize this.
That evening as I wrote up my log notes, grateful at last for some peace, I thought of Mum’s assertion that Anna would settle soon, just as the other children I’d fostered had. But I had doubts. Anna had been a very troubled child with a number of problems before coming into care. Now she’d been rejected by her parents, I feared it could be years before she ‘settled down’, if ever. The effect of trauma in infanthood, if not dealt with, can follow a child into their teenage years and beyond. Some adults never recover from the neglect or abuse they suffered as a child and turn to drink and drugs to try to block out and numb their pain.
On Wednesday Jill telephoned for an update as she did every week if we hadn’t met. She knew that if I needed help or advice in the interim or if there was an emergency I would contact the agency straight away. When I’d finished updating her on Anna’s progress, or rather lack of it, Jill said, ‘You’re doing everything you can, but there’s been a development.’
‘Oh, yes?’ A development could mean anything – good or bad.
‘You remember at the review Lori was going to speak to Anna’s mother, Elaine, to see if it was possible to establish some contact?’
‘Yes.’ It was two weeks since the review and the last time Jill and I had spoken it hadn’t been mentioned, so I’d rather assumed it wasn’t going to happen.
‘Lori has spoken to Elaine and she has agreed to see Anna for an hour a week.’
‘Oh, I see,’ I said, taken aback. ‘Well, I suppose that’s good.’
‘Lori wants the contact to be at your house. She thinks it will be less disruptive for Anna, and there is no reason why contact should take place at a family centre as there are no safe-guarding concerns.’ If a child is brought into care as a result of abuse or neglect then contact is usually supervised at a family centre for a set number of hours each week.
The expectation was that I would accept contact at my house. ‘OK,’ I said.
‘It will just be Elaine, not Anna’s father, and Elaine has only agreed to see Anna as long as you are present.’
‘“Agreed”?’ I said. That word again, implying reluctance on Elaine’s part. Most parents of children in care would jump at the chance to see their child.
‘Elaine is worried that Anna will be very angry with her,’ Jill said. ‘And of course she’s feeling guilty for putting her into care.’
‘I can appreciate that.’
‘Lori suggested contact took place straight after school, as Anna is on a reduced timetable, but I said that probably wouldn’t work for you.’
‘No, it wouldn’t. Although Anna finishes early her school is half an hour’s drive away, so after I’ve collected her I go straight to collect Adrian and Paula.’
‘That’s what I thought so I suggested Saturday.’
‘Yes, that would be better. What time?’
‘Shall we say eleven?’
‘All right.’
‘I’ll telephone Lori now and then get back to you to confirm. Lori’s asked if you can prepare Anna for her mother’s visit, as she won’t be able to see her before Saturday.’ Foster carers often have to explain and discuss contact arrangements with the child they are looking after.
‘Yes, I’ll do my best,’ I said.
‘Thank you.’ We said goodbye.
I had concerns about Elaine suddenly ‘agreeing’ to see Anna. While it was generally considered positive for a child to be in touch with their parents, I’d have to make sure this didn’t give Anna false hope. It wasn’t about preparing Anna to go home, but just for her to see her estranged mother. And if Anna was going to remain in care, how much good would it do to re-establish their bond now? I wondered. Anna hadn’t seen or heard from her mother since coming into care and she hadn’t asked to see her as most children would. But then again, that could have been part of Anna’s attachment disorder. I didn’t necessarily mean she didn’t miss or love her mother. She just didn’t show it as other children might.
That evening after dinner I sat down with Anna, just the two of us, and explained what was going to happen on Saturday.
‘She’s coming on a plane?’ she asked.
‘No, love, in her car.’
‘But it’s over the water. I’ve seen a picture of the sea from the plane window.’
‘Not your birth mother. She isn’t coming.’ It had never occurred to me she might think that. ‘It’s your adoptive mother who’s coming to see you. The person you call Mummy. You’ve been living with her and your father for over two years.’
Finally she understood. ‘Good. I don’t want to go to that other home. I was poor there and no one loved me.’
‘You won’t have to go back there,’ I reassured her. ‘Your mummy and daddy adopted you so you are their daughter. They are your mummy and daddy, even though you are not living with them right now. Adrian and Paula’s daddy doesn’t live with us, but he is still their father.’
She looked as though she understood. ‘Will you be my mummy too if I stay here?’ How confusing this must be for her.
‘I’m looking after you like a mummy,’ I said with a smile, which was the best I could offer.
But of course suddenly being presented with the prospect of seeing her mother was very unsettling for Anna and doubtless reignited many old insecurities. That night and the following she had nightmares, crying out in her sleep. I was out of bed in a heartbeat, and round the landing to her room to settle her.
I told Miss Rich that Anna would be seeing her mother on Saturday and she was pleased and said she’d tell Mrs Taylor. She said she would help reassure Anna and answer any questions she might have. But Anna wasn’t a child who confided her worries easily, even to Miss Rich or Mrs Taylor. It came out in her behaviour, which deteriorated badly at school and at home. On Friday Anna thumped a child in her class for asking who I was and pushed over another child for looking at her. That night she didn’t get to sleep until after 3 a.m. I let her sleep in on Saturday and asked Adrian and Paula to play quietly, then at 9.30 a.m. I woke her.
‘Time to get up and get ready,’ I said.
‘I’m not seeing my mother!’ she yelled angrily as soon as she was fully awake. ‘You tell her not to come here! Do as I say!’ Anna still believed she was in charge.
‘I can understand why you’re angry and upset,’ I said evenly, ‘but your mother is coming here at eleven o’clock as arranged.’
‘Why?’ she demanded.
‘Because she wants to see you and that’s what your social worker and your mother have decided.’
‘You don’t have to do what they say!’ she stormed, her eyes blazing.
‘Yes, I do. We both do.’
‘Why?’
‘Because they are responsible for you.’
‘I won’t let her in,’ she yelled, balling her fists. I felt my anxiety level rise.
‘I will. Come on, up you get, time to get dressed.’
‘I’ll push her out of the door and shut it in her face,’ she said, her cheeks flushed with rage.
‘That would be very unkind. And you won’t be doing that because I will be letting your mother in and making her feel welcome.’ I hoped after all this that Elaine turned up. Some parents arrange contact and then don’t show, which is very disappointing and distressing for the child and adds to their feelings of rejection.
‘Hate you,’ she said, but did get out of bed.
Anna never did anything the first or second time she was asked. So as a result of her lack of cooperation it was nearly eleven o’clock before she was finally ready, having washed, dressed and finished her breakfast. During this time Adrian and Paula had been left to get on with it yet again while I concentrated on Anna, and although I was grateful for their cooperation and praised them, I felt guilty. It was their weekend too.
I’d put a lot of thought into how to handle Anna’s first contact with her mother. Sometimes, when I facilitated contact at home, I gave the child and their parents privacy, a room to themselves, and just p
opped in occasionally to see if everything was all right and if they needed anything, while keeping Adrian and Paula amused in another room. But Elaine had specifically asked that I be present when she saw Anna, so I took a selection of games, puzzles and toys into the living room for them to play with and told Adrian and Paula to carry on as normal. This would hopefully also feel less intimidating and more relaxing for Elaine, but Anna wasn’t having any of it.
‘You can put those away!’ she stormed, and grabbed some of the boxes of games to take out. ‘I’m not seeing her!’
I was about to return the games to the living room when the front doorbell rang, signalling Elaine’s arrival. Startled, Anna threw the games onto the floor and fled upstairs to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
‘It’s OK, don’t worry. She’ll be down later,’ I reassured Adrian and Paula, who were looking worried. I knew that Anna wouldn’t stay up there for long if she thought her mother and me were downstairs; she’d want to know what was going on. However, I understood why she’d fled. An angry exit was her way of dealing with a difficult meeting. I was feeling nervous, and as I opened the front door it was obvious Elaine was too.
‘Have I got the right house?’ she asked in a small, quivering voice.
‘If you’re Elaine, then yes,’ I said lightly. ‘Come in. I’m Cathy.’
‘Oh, thank you.’
She was older than in the photographs, of average height and build, but with blue eyes, pale skin and her hair cut in a neat bob like Anna’s. They were so similar that Elaine could have been her birth mother. ‘Shall I take your coat?’ I asked.
‘Yes, please.’
She began unbuttoning it, her nervous fingers struggling with the buttons. Under her coat she wore navy slacks and a beige jumper. ‘You found our house OK then?’ I asked, making conversation.
‘I was early. I’ve been sitting in the car.’
She passed me her coat and I hung it up, then she nervously set down her handbag and picked it up again, unsure of where to put it. ‘Bring it with you if you like,’ I said. ‘We’re in the living room. Anna has just gone up to her room. I’ll fetch her if she doesn’t come down shortly.’