by Angela Hart
She was standing right next to me, so close that I had to tuck in my elbows so as not to bash into her.
‘Oh, it’ll do! I don’t think Scooter will mind if the carrots aren’t cut to a professional standard!’
‘He might. He might get a knife and stab you!’
I gave an uncertain little laugh and told Danielle she had a very lively imagination. I also asked her to give me a bit of space, as she was standing so close to me it was making me feel uncomfortable.
‘I can’t imagine Scooter would do such a thing,’ I smiled.
‘I can.’
Danielle poked my arm as she spoke and I told her there was no need to do that as she had my attention, and it was rude to jab someone like that.
‘OK, whatever,’ she said, suddenly sounding wistful. She then began staring at an empty space in the corner of the kitchen.
‘Is that where you think we should put the carrots?’ I asked.
‘What?’
‘The carrots?’
‘Oh yes. Put them there – all of them! What are you waiting for?’
I chose to ignore her bossiness and stacked up the batons. Then I suggested to Danielle that we could sit very quietly at the table and have a snack and drink while watching and waiting to see if Scooter appeared. She agreed, though she seemed to find it impossible to stay quiet.
‘Is there such a thing as hot?’ she asked as I made her a drink of hot chocolate and put some biscuits on the table. ‘Or is it just cold with hot added? Or is cold just hot with hot taken away?’
‘Those are interesting questions,’ I whispered. ‘You should ask Jonathan as he loves to talk about clever science things like that.’
There was something so childlike about Danielle I found myself talking to her in a way I would to a much younger child. She seemed to respond, and after her rather alarming comment about Scooter stabbing me with a knife I found it endearing and comforting to hear her lapse into such innocent chatter, even if I was trying to get her to have some quiet time.
‘Do hamsters like mice?’
‘Probably. They’re all rodents.’
After I’d answered a stream of other questions – not all of them logical or in any way related to what we were talking about – I suggested we should try to be ‘as quiet as mice’ for a couple of minutes.
‘Let’s try two minutes of silence, shall we? Here, I’ll set the kitchen timer. Are you ready?’
‘What’s a rodent?’
‘It’s the name of the family of little creatures that mice and hamsters belong to. OK, I’m starting the clock!’
Danielle pushed her lips tightly together and nodded. She managed not to talk but then made loud slurping noises whenever she took a sip of her hot chocolate. The liquid dripped down her chin but she appeared not to notice and carried on drinking noisily, drenching her chin more with each gurgling slurp.
Danielle took full advantage of the fact I was not going to speak for two minutes to help herself to more biscuits than I would normally have allowed. I smiled at her and took an extra one myself, and we sat there in companionable silence for the two minutes, enjoying munching on our biscuits as we peered at the pile of carrots on the floor and kept an eye on the door.
Of course, I hadn’t really expected Scooter would arrive on cue to nibble the carrots, but I wanted Danielle to know I cared and that I was making an effort to find him. In reality I knew that missing hamsters were sometimes never seen again, at least not alive, in any case. On one memorable occasion, we found a hamster that had been missing for over a week curled up at the bottom of a very tall vase. He’d obviously fallen in and been unable to escape, and the poor little thing had become dehydrated and perished. I hadn’t had any reason to use the vase that week, although I’d dusted the outside of it and hadn’t noticed a thing. It was only when a friend visited with her dog that we discovered the dead pet, as the dog immediately sniffed the hamster out and began poking his nose so deeply into the vase that it almost got stuck. We reckoned the hamster must have climbed up the curtains and fallen off, into the vase. It was the only explanation, and it was such a shame.
When the timer pinged Danielle jumped to her feet and said, ‘Never mind. Let’s go out! Maybe Scooter will come out of his hiding place when we’ve gone.’
‘Good thinking,’ I said. ‘I love a nice walk into town, don’t you?’
‘Only when it’s not cold. I don’t like being cold.’
As well as making a mess and a noise with the hot chocolate, I was dismayed to see that Danielle had eaten the biscuits in quite a revolting way, with her mouth open, like a toddler might. She had crumbs all around her mouth and so I gave her a piece of kitchen roll so she could clean herself up before we went out. I also suggested, gently, that next time she should try to eat more quietly and neatly, with her mouth closed. I didn’t want to embarrass her or get her back up, but I did need to teach Danielle how to eat and drink politely. I knew she could do it, as she’d managed it the day before, and perhaps she just needed reminding.
Danielle did as I asked and wiped her face, but not very willingly.
‘Is that good enough for you?’ she asked in a confrontational tone.
‘Yes, that will do. Look! The sun’s out now. Let’s get going. We’ll have a lovely stroll into town.’
Danielle was already heading to the hallway, but as she crossed the kitchen I couldn’t help but notice she had a large wet patch on the back of her cream-coloured, knee-length skirt. The patch must have been six inches wide at least, and was very visible on the wide expanse of pleated fabric that hung from Danielle’s broad hips.
‘Oh,’ I said casually. ‘You seem to have had an accident, sweetheart. Would you like to go and have a quick shower and put some clean clothes on before we go out?’
‘No. I didn’t have an accident. It was YOUR fault. You said we couldn’t talk for two minutes so HOW could I ask to go to the toilet?’
I was taken aback by Danielle’s response but I tried not to show it.
‘I think you should clean yourself up,’ I said, sticking to my guns. ‘You don’t want to go to town like that, do you?’
‘I don’t mind. It’s fine. Come on!’
‘Danielle,’ I said calmly but emphatically, ‘you really need to change that skirt and make sure you’re dry and smell fresh before we go out.’
I was standing right next to her now, and I could smell the urine.
‘No,’ she said defiantly. ‘You can’t make me. But it’s fine if you don’t want to come to town with me. I can go myself, see if I care!’
I stopped myself being drawn into an argument, and instead found myself saying, ‘Fine. Don’t go for a shower then.’
It was an instinctive reaction I had, after seeing the defiant look in Danielle’s eyes.
‘I WILL have a shower,’ she announced. ‘And you can’t stop me!’
She stomped up the stairs, repeating as she went, ‘You can’t stop me! I’m having a shower, I am!’
Somehow Danielle had convinced herself she’d won the ‘argument’, but I knew I’d learned a valuable lesson that morning. Danielle liked to do the opposite of what you asked her to do, and I reckoned I’d have to keep that knowledge up my sleeve and use it wisely when I wanted to get her to behave the way she needed to.
It was mid-morning by the time we walked into town, leaving Jonathan in charge of the shop, but unfortunately it was far from the lovely stroll I’d envisaged. Danielle had a very annoying habit of walking too close to me and crisscrossing in front of me without warning. I was on alert the whole time, trying to avoid bashing into her or tripping over her. She also let her nose run and didn’t seem to notice.
‘Here’s a tissue.’
‘What’s that for?’
‘To blow your nose.’
‘It doesn’t need blowing. Honestly, you’re such a fusspot, Angela.’
Eventually Danielle took the tissue I offered, made a rather disgusting noise as she blew her
nose and then tried to hand the wet tissue back to me.
‘Please keep hold of that until we find a bin, Danielle.’
‘Oh God, do I have to do everything around here?’
Almost as soon as we arrived on the high street two girls ran up to us.
‘Hey, Danielle! Do you want to come round town with us?’
‘Yeah!’ she grinned. ‘Come on!’
Danielle seemed to completely forget I was by her side, but one of her friends looked in my direction and laughed, saying to Danielle, ‘Do you need to check first?’
I smiled and introduced myself as Angela. I never say I’m a foster carer as I feel it’s up to the child to decide what they tell their friends, and when. I’ve learned that most children prefer not to flag up the fact they are in foster care, especially at the beginning of a new placement, and very rarely when they are in a temporary placement.
Danielle explained that she knew the girls – Shelby and Mina – from a previous school, and the girls were quick to point out that it was a teacher-training day and they were not playing truant.
‘We’re just going to get a drink in the cafe and go round the market, if you can come with us?’ Mina said.
‘Is that OK?’ Danielle asked.
‘Actually,’ I said, thinking on my feet, ‘I wanted to buy you a few things and we haven’t got long. Can you fix something up for another day?’
Danielle looked very unhappy with this but then Shelby deffused the situation by reminding the group that the youth club was on that night.
‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘Are you coming tonight? We can all catch up then. It’ll be a laugh.’
‘Is THAT OK?’ Danielle asked me pointedly.
‘I’m sure it’s fine,’ I said.
As the placement was so new and I had so little information about Danielle I didn’t want to let her out of my sight in town, but the social workers had said nothing about restricting her from any supervised activities, despite her exclusion from school. Danielle and her friends had clearly been to the youth club together before, and I knew it well. There were always a few people I’d known for years taking the money on the door, signing the kids in and keeping an eye on things. I also knew it was a secure environment as I’d worked there myself as a volunteer on many occasions in the past. Nevertheless, I made a mental note to put a quick call in to our support social worker, Nelson, just to be sure Danielle was allowed to attend.
‘So I can go?’
‘I’m sure it’s fine,’ I repeated, telling her we’d work out the arrangements later. Danielle seemed satisfied with this.
‘See you there,’ the girls said. ‘Be there or be square!’
All three girls giggled, and as soon as they were out of sight Danielle looked at me very seriously and said, ‘So what’s all this stuff you’re buying for me, Angela?’
She wasn’t daft, this girl!
‘Well, I thought we’d get some stationery, as I expect you’ll be needing that.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re not at school at the moment.’
‘So?’
‘Well, I imagine you’ll be sent some work to do at home, to keep you going while the school situation is sorted out. That’s what normally happens if a child can’t go to school.’
‘Are you joking?’
‘No, I’m not. I’m not sure how it will work out, but I do know Social Services won’t want you to miss out on your education. So, come on, let’s get you some essentials, shall we?’
I steered Danielle into WHSmith and her eyes lit up.
‘Can I have one of these?’
She was looking at a notepad that came with a stamper set, so you could customise it with your name.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘And how about these pens?’
A huge smile spread across Danielle’s face. I’d selected a pack of brightly coloured pens with silly animal heads stuck on their tops.
‘Wicked!’ she said. ‘You’re not as boring as I thought you were, Angela.’
‘Thanks!’ I grinned. ‘Best compliment I’ve had all day!’
When we got home Danielle immediately set about stamping her name on her new book. She appeared to have forgotten all about her hamster and made no mention of him or the untouched carrots on the floor. Instead, she sat herself at the kitchen table, engrossed in choosing which style of lettering she was going to use for her name.
I slipped out to call Nelson and ask about the youth club, and was kept on hold for about fifteen minutes before being told there was no problem at all with Danielle meeting her friends there. Nelson was in a rush and I arranged to call him on Monday to have a further discussion, when he would be in the office all morning and would have more time. As I stepped back into the kitchen, Danielle looked very proud as she held her notepad up for me to see.
‘Finished!’ she declared cheerfully.
I was surprised to see that the surname Danielle had printed wasn’t the one I’d seen on her paperwork from Social Services, and so I asked her casually if she used two different names, which often happens when children come from broken homes.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But this is the surname I’m going to use from now on, because it’s the name of my forever family.’
4
‘I’m not staying here’
‘Angela, come quick! I’ve found Scooter!’
Danielle had gone upstairs to get ready for the youth club, and she called me into her room. When I opened the door I saw her standing by the bed, holding the hamster to her chest.
‘Wow! That’s great news, and how lucky he didn’t go far. He must like it in your room. Most hamsters would be off like a shot, given half the chance.’
‘I know. Very lucky, wasn’t it?’
She gave me one of those slightly suspect-looking smiles again, and something told me Danielle wasn’t giving me the full story. I flicked my eyes around the room and noticed that her underwear was in a pile on the floor, beside the chest of drawers. One of the drawers was open just enough for me to see a handful of straw and a sprinkling of hamster food inside.
‘Gosh!’ I exclaimed, stepping towards the open drawer. ‘Look at this, Danielle. Anyone would think he’d tried to make this drawer his new home.’
She blushed and looked to the floor. ‘Oh, you could be right. Er, I’m glad my stuff wasn’t in there. He was clever to do that, wasn’t he?’
‘Well, maybe he was,’ I said.
It appeared very obvious that Danielle had hidden Scooter in the drawer herself, but I didn’t know that for certain and so I had to tread carefully. I knew from my experience and training that accusing a child of telling fibs or even doubting their word could do a lot of damage, so I would never go down that road unless I was one hundred per cent sure of the facts. I needed Danielle to feel comfortable with me, and to trust me, in case she wanted to disclose anything or had any questions to ask me.
‘Now, let’s clear all this mess up. And if I were you I wouldn’t leave your drawers empty or open again. I think if you keep your things in their place, there’s a better chance Scooter will stay in his place, don’t you?’
‘I suppose.’
As I began picking up the underwear to put it back in Danielle’s drawer I noticed that some of her knickers were damp and smelt of urine.
‘Oh dear,’ I said. ‘I thought this was all clean underwear.’
‘It is,’ Danielle replied defiantly.
‘I don’t think so. It’s damp and it doesn’t smell fresh.’
‘It’s fine. The smell is Scooter! He must have weed! Just put it in the drawer, will you?’
‘No, Danielle. We need to sort this out. I wouldn’t like you to put on underwear that isn’t clean and dry.’
‘Oh wouldn’t you, Saint Angela!’
‘Please don’t be rude to me, Danielle. I’m trying to help you, because I care about you and I want the best for you.’
‘I’ve already told you; I just want to go back to my f
orever family. I know your game, Angela.’
Danielle put her hands on her hips and looked at me accusingly. She also stepped up very close to me, so her face was inches from mine.
‘Game?’ I repeated back, with a question in my voice.
‘Yes. YOUR GAME! I spoke to them last night. They told me everything.’
‘They told you everything?’
Danielle now spoke to Scooter, holding him in front of her face.
‘You heard me, didn’t you, Scooter? You heard what I heard?’
She then put on a strange, faraway voice.
‘I’m your forever mum, Danielle. Angela and Jonathan are only looking after you for the money. Mike and me don’t get paid. We looked after you for free, not like them!’
I knew full well that all foster carers receive payment, regardless of the length of a child’s stay or the type of care order the child is under. Just because Danielle’s previous carers had planned to be her forever family made no difference; they would still have received payment. I had no idea if Danielle was telling the truth about this conversation, but nevertheless I wanted to make it clear where we stood.
‘Danielle, Jonathan and I are looking after you because we want to help you. We don’t do this job for the money. We have a successful business in our flower shop. We love fostering and we want to care for you. That is why we are foster carers. We want to help you. That is our priority, and that is the truth of the matter.’
Danielle thought about this for a moment or two before looking me in the eye, very seriously.
‘Honest?’ she asked, using her own voice again.
‘Honestly, yes.’
‘In that case I’ll have to phone Glennis back and ask her what she was on about, because she definitely said her and Mike don’t get paid and you do it for the money!’
‘Phone them back?’ I questioned.
‘Yes. I wasn’t lying about speaking to them, you know. I didn’t make it up! I phoned them last night, on my mobile.’
‘Right. OK. Thanks for telling me that.’
‘Is there a problem?’
‘Just leave it with me.’