A Long Way From Home

by Cathy Glass

  ‘Oh, so she isn’t down here,’ she said, apparently relieved she wasn’t having to meet her daughter straight away. This was so different from other reunions I’d witnessed where the child or children I was fostering flew into their parents’ arms and the parents cried with joy.

  ‘This is my son, Adrian, and my daughter, Paula,’ I said as we entered the living room.

  ‘Hello,’ Elaine said in a small voice. They smiled back shyly.

  ‘Would you like a coffee or tea?’ I offered her, but she didn’t want anything to drink. ‘Do sit down.’

  Going to the sofa, she perched stiff and upright on the edge. I sat at the other end while Adrian and Paula continued playing on the floor. There was an awkward silence. ‘I’ll fetch Anna down if she doesn’t appear soon,’ I said again. Elaine nodded. Another silence. ‘I’ve met Miss Rich and Mrs Taylor,’ I said. ‘They’re very nice.’

  ‘Yes, they are,’ Elaine agreed, her gaze on Adrian and Paula. ‘How do your children get on with Anna?’ she asked. ‘Your daughter is only small.’

  ‘Paula is not much younger than Anna,’ I said.

  ‘Does Anna play with them?’

  ‘We’re working on it,’ I said, throwing her a small smile.

  She understood. There was another silence and then Adrian asked, ‘Mum, can I go upstairs to play?’

  ‘Yes, of course, love. Do what you would normally do.’

  ‘Sorry, I’ve disrupted your morning,’ Elaine said apologetically.

  ‘You haven’t,’ I replied. ‘We’re used to having visitors.’

  ‘Anna isn’t,’ Elaine said, and looked at Paula as she followed Adrian out of the living room.

  ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like a drink?’ I offered again.

  ‘No, thank you. I’ll see Anna and then I’ll go. I won’t stay for long.’

  ‘Lori suggested an hour, but it’s up to you.’ I looked at her, so tense and uneasy I thought she could leave at any moment. ‘Elaine, I know this must be very difficult for you, but Anna does need to see you.’

  ‘Yes, that’s what Lori said, but I’m not sure. She doesn’t really like me.’

  ‘No child likes their parents the whole time, it’s part of the territory of being a parent, but I’m sure she loves you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said in the same slight voice, but didn’t offer any more.

  At that moment Anna’s bedroom door opened with a loud thud, and footsteps stomped towards the top of the stairs. ‘That sounds like Anna,’ I said.

  ‘You will stay with us, won’t you?’ Elaine asked anxiously.

  ‘Yes, of course. Don’t worry. Just enjoy your time together.’ But even as I said it I knew that was going to be very difficult for Elaine.

  Anna came heavily down the stairs, stomping as she did when she was annoyed. Elaine tensed even more, as if steeling herself to meet her daughter. ‘Try to walk more quietly,’ I called to Anna as she entered the hall. The stomping continued with marginally less force. ‘Good girl, that’s better.’

  Elaine looked at me curiously. ‘She does what you tell her?’

  ‘Eventually, but we’ve had the stomping conversation before,’ I replied with a smile.

  Anna’s heavy footsteps continued along the hall, into the living room, and then she stomped right up to her mother. I saw Elaine draw back. ‘Why are you here?’ Anna demanded, hands on hips.

  Elaine didn’t reply but her brow creased as if almost imploring Anna not to be cruel to her.

  ‘She’s come to see you,’ I said, concerned by Elaine’s reaction. She appeared to be frightened of her daughter.

  ‘Why?’ Anna demanded, glaring at her mother.

  What I now wanted was for Elaine to say, ‘Because I love and miss you.’ And Anna would reply, ‘I love and miss you too, Mummy.’ Which would start the healing process and begin to build the bridge across the huge divide between them, but that wasn’t going to happen. Elaine just sat looking at her daughter, so I stepped in.

  ‘Anna,’ I said firmly. ‘Take your hands off your hips and don’t glare at your mother like that, please. I told you she was coming to see you.’

  ‘I want her to go!’ she said, but did take her hands from her hips. Elaine made a move as though she was actually going to leave.

  ‘Your mother is not going anywhere for now,’ I said, touching Elaine’s arm. ‘She has come to see you. I think it would be a good idea if the three of us played one of those games together.’ I’d found in the past that tension in first meetings was often eased if the parents and child were involved in a game, although those times had been a result of shyness and awkwardness, not intimidation, which is what I was witnessing. ‘Would you like to choose a game or shall I?’ I asked Anna, using the closed choice technique, and aware she’d want to.

  ‘Me!’ she said and stomped off to the toy box. Elaine breathed an audible sigh of relief.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Save a Child

  Elaine managed to stay for the full hour, but her relationship with Anna didn’t improve. Despite my arranging board games and cards to play, and illustrated books to look at, and giving lots of encouragement, mother and daughter went through the motions of playing without any real involvement or meaningful interaction passing between them. It was difficult to say the least. I was there to facilitate and support contact; I couldn’t force them to get along. On the positive side Anna did at least join in when she might not have done, but she was rude and demanding throughout, barking instructions at her mother and generally demeaning her. Elaine took this and even apologized, instead of telling Anna not to speak to her like that. I corrected Anna a number of times when I couldn’t ignore her rudeness any longer, but it should have come from her mother.

  Adrian and Paula joined in the final game of Snakes and Ladders. It was the first time we’d all played together with Anna so I suppose that was a positive too, although the atmosphere was tense and not at all like when Adrian and Paula usually play, with squeals of delight at winning a point or sighs of frustration at losing. Anna didn’t win, although I’m sure her mother would have let her just to keep the peace. Anna was furious and threw the board and counters all over the floor while shouting that it was a silly game, just like a spoilt child. It was left to me to tell Anna about her behaviour. Elaine just sat looking at her, anxious and ineffectual.

  ‘It’s not about winning but playing the game that counts,’ I said to Anna.

  When the hour was up I was as relieved as Elaine appeared to be. She immediately stood and said it was time for her to go, and Anna didn’t protest either. I’d seen children cling desperately to their parents to try to stop them from leaving at the end of contact, with all of them in tears, which, while upsetting to watch, was far healthier than the cold and emotionless parting of Elaine and Anna.

  ‘Goodbye,’ Elaine said in the hall as she put on her coat. Anna stared at her blankly.

  ‘Safe journey,’ I said, opening the front door. ‘We’ll see you at the same time next week.’

  She nodded without conviction and I wondered if she would come back. By the time I’d closed the door Anna had disappeared into the living room. It had been the strangest, most emotionless and joyless contact I’d ever seen.

  Adrian and Paula, perhaps fearing another outburst from Anna, had gone upstairs. I went into the living room. Anna was sitting on the floor, uncharacteristically quiet and still. ‘Are you OK?’ I asked, going over.

  ‘Is she coming back next week?’ she asked blankly.

  ‘Your mother? Yes, she should do. Would you like her to?’

  ‘Not bothered,’ she shrugged.

  And that was all she said about her mother and her visit, not only for the rest of the day and weekend but for the whole of the following week, despite my bringing up the subject from time to time and asking her if she wanted to talk about it. ‘No!’ she replied or just ignored me.

  I wrote up my log notes, and Jill and Lori telephoned for updates on h
ow the contact had gone. They were disappointed when I told them, as was Miss Rich. On Wednesday morning, when I took Anna into school, Mrs Taylor made a point of coming to see me to try to find out more, but I could only tell her what I’d told Jill and Lori. She looked crestfallen.

  ‘Do you think it would help if I spoke to Anna and Elaine?’ she asked. ‘Anna hasn’t mentioned seeing her mother to me or Miss Rich.’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s your decision. I’m sure it wouldn’t do any harm.’

  ‘I’ll give it some thought,’ she said.

  I never found out if she did speak to them, but very soon it was Saturday again. I’d heard nothing to the contrary from Lori so I assumed that contact was going ahead. It was now the beginning of April and the garden was awash with brightly coloured spring flowers, bringing with them the promise of hope, new life and opportunity. Or that’s how I saw it at least. I still had some doubts that Elaine would show, so I was relived when at exactly eleven o’clock the doorbell rang. She seemed slightly more at ease, if only from now being familiar with my home and us. She took off her jacket and hung it on the hall stand, left her shoes in the hall and then headed for our living room. ‘Anna will be down soon,’ I said, and offered her a drink, which she refused.

  ‘You have a nice big garden,’ she said, making conversation and glancing through the patio windows.

  ‘We’re out there as much as possible in the summer. Do you have a garden?’

  ‘A small one.’

  We sat on the sofa and continued making polite and somewhat stilted conversation – mainly about the weather – while we waited for Anna. Adrian and Paula were at the table in the kitchen, dough modelling. Anna hadn’t wanted to join in. I could have gone up and fetched her down to see her mother, but it would be better if she came down of her own accord. She’d heard her mother arrive. As we waited I told Elaine about Anna’s week at school, but the conversation we should have been having was about her relationship with her daughter, and whether there was any chance of them having a future together. I needed Elaine to broach the subject when she felt comfortable to do so, which clearly wasn’t yet.

  Eventually Anna’s bedroom door crashed open and she stomped down the stairs. ‘Tread more lightly, please!’ I called. ‘You are not the BFG.’ Elaine almost smiled, but as soon as Anna appeared in the living room she tensed, as if bracing herself to meet her daughter again. It was ludicrous and very unhealthy. If Elaine could have taken the initiative and said, ‘Hi, Anna, how are you?’ standing up if necessary, it would have given her more presence. Instead she waited, almost cowering as Anna came right up to her, formidable and intimidating. Anna had quickly stopped approaching me like that, but she was doing it to her mother because she knew she could get away with it.

  ‘Say hello to your mother nicely,’ I said to Anna.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, and stomped over to the toy box.

  Adrian and Paula appeared and, bless them, suggested that we play Snakes and Ladders as we had done last Saturday.

  ‘Don’t want to,’ Anna scowled. ‘It’s a silly game.’

  ‘It’s a fun game,’ I said, ‘but you can choose something else to play if you like and we can play Snakes and Ladders another time.’

  She picked up a pack of cards. ‘Snap!’ she said. ‘I want to play Snap.’

  ‘OK, but we’ll need more than one pack if we’re all going to play.’

  ‘No, just her,’ she said, pointing to her mother.

  While it was positive that Anna wanted to play a game with her mother one-to-one, the way she’d referred to her and pointed was rude. I glanced at Elaine, wondering if she would correct her, but she stood and went over to play.

  ‘She’s your mother,’ I said to Anna. ‘Not her.’

  I knew Anna had understood what I meant from her scowl. Elaine sat on the floor opposite her daughter while she divided up the pack of cards. The two of them began to play Snap while Adrian, Paula and I played Snakes and Ladders. Any cries of glee or groans of frustration as we played were smothered by Anna barking instructions at her mother and yelling ‘Snap!’ at the top of her voice every few seconds while grabbing the two stacks of cards. I was pretty sure she was cheating but Elaine didn’t say anything; she just went through the motions of playing the game. When Anna inevitably won she gave herself a clap. ‘I’ve won!’ she shouted.

  ‘Well done,’ I said. ‘I hope it was fairly.’ She threw me a look – again, she had got the message. Anna then wanted to play Snakes and Ladders. ‘Of course, love,’ I said. ‘Once we’ve finished this game we’ll all play together.’ She scowled. I really think she assumed we’d stop playing and start a fresh game straight away simply because she wanted to. It didn’t take us long to finish the game and we then widened our circle to accommodate Anna and Elaine. Anna wanted the blue counter that Adrian was using and tried to take it from him.

  ‘No,’ I said, stopping her. ‘Adrian is using the blue counter. There are plenty of others to choose from.’ I pushed the other counters towards her so she could pick one.

  She hesitated, a stand-off, and Elaine tensed. But Anna clearly thought better of it and took another counter. ‘Good girl,’ I said. Then to Elaine, ‘It’s OK to say no sometimes.’ She gave a slight nod.

  We played three games of Snakes and Ladders, of which Anna won one fairly. ‘Well done,’ I said with genuine feeling.

  ‘Yes, well done,’ Elaine repeated in a small, flat voice.

  Years of looking after children has taught me that it is important to praise a child effusively when it’s due. Not only does it build their confidence, but it makes correcting them when necessary more acceptable. Like many aspects of child rearing, it is a balancing act – praise and censure, talking and listening, encouraging a child to do something and warning them not to. Elaine’s ‘well done’ was as passionless as all her interactions with Anna, and I thought it was probably a safety mechanism to protect herself – if she didn’t give anything of herself to her daughter then her rejections were less painful.

  The hour slid by and at exactly twelve noon Elaine said it was time for her to go. Anna didn’t want to come with us to the door but said goodbye to her mother in the living room, again without any regret at her going. In the hall I took Elaine’s jacket from the stand and helped her into it. ‘Same time next week then?’ I said. She nodded, said goodbye and left.

  That evening I wrote up my log notes and the following week updated Jill and Lori when they telephoned.

  Soon it was Saturday again and the third contact was the same as the previous two. I wondered how long it would be before one of them broke through the barrier and showed some real emotion. I realized that it was part of Anna’s attachment disorder that she wasn’t able to show love for her mother, and that Elaine was probably feeling a lot more than she showed. But this couldn’t go on indefinitely. They would both need to change if there was any chance of them having a future together and I hoped therapeutic input would help, although no appointment had come through yet. At the end of Elaine’s fourth visit, which had been no different to the previous three, she stopped as she was halfway out of the door and almost as an afterthought said, ‘Cathy, can I talk to you alone one time? I think you may understand.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ I said. ‘We could talk on the phone or if you’re not working you could come here during the day when everyone is at school.’

  ‘I could come on Monday,’ she said in the same small voice.

  ‘Good. Eleven o’clock would suit me – give me time to get back from school.’

  ‘Yes. I’ll be here. And thank you for looking after Anna. You’re doing a good job.’ Her eyes filled and she hurried down the path to her car.

  On Sunday Adrian and Paula went out with their father again, which gave me the opportunity to spend some one-to-one time with Anna. It was Anna who suggested we play some board games together, which was a first. As we played it struck me how much less rude and threatening her manner was towards me tha
n her mother.

  ‘Why do you speak to your mother so harshly?’ I asked as we played. ‘You’re not very nice to her sometimes.’ Actually it was all the time.

  ‘Because I don’t like her and she doesn’t like me.’

  ‘What makes you think she doesn’t like you?’

  ‘Because she was always telling me off.’

  ‘Any other reason?’

  She shook her head and rolled the dice.

  ‘How did she tell you off?’ I asked. Given the tension that must have existed at home, I wondered if Elaine had hit Anna. My gut feeling was that she hadn’t, but then I couldn’t visualize her shouting either; she always appeared so meek and self-effacing.

  Anna finished counting her piece round the board before answering. ‘She shouts and then she cries a lot and I don’t like that.’

  ‘Did she hit you?’

  ‘No!’ Anna said, jutting out her chin aggressively. ‘I hit her.’ Which I knew to be true.

  ‘You mustn’t hit your mother or anyone. You have to talk to the person about what is bothering you, not hit them.’

  ‘I hit you,’ she said defiantly.

  ‘When you first arrived, but I stopped you.’ I’ve found in the past that often young children open up and talk if they have the distraction of playing a game, more so than if you sit them down specifically to have a heart-to-heart.

  ‘My other mummy used to hit me,’ Anna added.

  ‘You remember that?’ I asked, surprised.

  ‘She hit me a lot. She said I was bad like my father.’ How much baggage from her past this poor child carried with her. I doubted she and her parents had ever stood a chance of a normal loving relationship.

  ‘Did you ever see him?’ I asked.

  ‘No. He was so bad they locked him up.’ So I assumed he was in prison for whatever crime he had committed. ‘My mum hated him and she hated me too,’ Anna said, staring at the board.

  ‘Have you ever talked to your parents or anyone about this?’