by Angela Hart
‘Danielle was sexually abused from a very young age by her father. When she was four years old he started to pass her around a group of paedophiles, in return for money he spent on drugs. Danielle’s father was a taxi driver and the men in the paedophile ring were all taxi drivers too. They had a system whereby one abuser would collect her one night and return her later after passing her around. If her father was out at work she had to wait in the garden shed until he came home. Her mother had a breakdown and abandoned Danielle when she was three years old. She appears to have fallen off the face of the earth – never been seen or heard of since. As for Danielle’s father, he was eventually jailed when she was nearly seven, along with, I believe, five or six other men. The police operation was huge, which is why it took a long time for the trial to take place. Danielle’s father still has many years of his sentence left to serve, although in my opinion it was nowhere near long enough. Danielle’s been given a life sentence. He should have had the same.’
Iris paused and shook her head. Then she went on to tell me the month and year when the trial took place, and what Danielle’s father was called, in case I wanted to look up old reports from the local paper. I didn’t think I could; it would be too distressing, but I appreciated Iris passing on that information. ‘It’s out there, on public record,’ she said.
I thought for a moment and forced myself to speak, though my voice was shaking. ‘Danielle said something to me one time about giving evidence,’ I said, casting my mind back to when she got into trouble with the police about Pippa. I tried to picture Danielle that day and recall what she said, and I silently remembered the words she had spoken as her lips lost their pink colour and took on a blue tint.
Will I have to give evidence? I can’t. I can’t do that again!
Obviously, at seven years of age she would not have had to appear in court, but she would still have had to go through the ordeal of telling the police what happened to her. The thought of that saddened me so much. It was heartbreaking, and I wanted to run home and hug Danielle that very minute.
Kenneth dunked a fig biscuit in his cup of tea and now it was his turn to shake his head. After taking a bite of the biscuit and a sip of tea he said, ‘When Danielle first came to stay with us she didn’t speak, did she, Iris?’
‘No, not a word.’
‘I tried to get her to talk by playing charades with her,’ Kenneth said. ‘That might sound odd, but I figured if she wasn’t allowed to speak then maybe she might.’
‘That sounds perfectly reasonable,’ Jonathan said, giving Kenneth a knowing look. ‘We’ve tried a bit of the old reverse psychology ourselves. Did it work for you?’
‘Eventually, but not in the way we thought it might. One day, after we’d finished playing and Iris had guessed whatever film it was I was trying to mime, Danielle decided to let rip. “I think you two are cheating!” she accused. She was very hot under the collar. “I think you’ve done all these old films before! It’s not fair! You’re mugging me off!”’
Iris chuckled. ‘Danielle probably had a point, and we told her as much. I mean, we were doing the old favourites like Jaws, I have to admit. Anyhow, we’d have been happy to admit to just about anything if it made Danielle talk. That was all that bothered us. It was a breakthrough, but it was still stop and start for quite some time. Some days she still refused to talk and on other days she wouldn’t stop chattering on, talking a lot of nonsense. She also had an imaginary friend who she used to talk to more than us. That went on for quite a while.’
I wondered if this friend still existed, and if this explained why Danielle sometimes lost focus and appeared to be talking to someone else in the room. I guess it was a reasonable explanation, and it’s not unheard of for children who have suffered trauma to have an invisible friend, as it’s a way they can verbalise their emotions and unload unconditionally, without fear of reprisals.
Iris made sure we all had enough tea and urged us to help ourselves to biscuits before asking if Danielle still had a problem ‘staying dry’. I said she did, day and night, and explained all about the incontinence nurse, and the wet pads being stashed all over the place and thrown in next-door’s garden.
‘I’m sorry to hear that. She was dreadful when she was with us too. She wet herself constantly and she protested wildly every time I tried to get her to wash or to wear dry clothes. Then she told me one day that . . .’ Iris looked at Kenneth, who shook his head again and then looked down at his shoes. ‘She said she was used to wearing wet pants, because of what happened with the men in the cars, and she was often in the shed for hours afterwards, always with wet pants. That was her life. It was what she was used to.’
It took me a moment to take in what had just been said. It was one of the most shocking things I’d ever heard. The four of us sat in silence. Iris and Kenneth looked heartbroken and just as shocked as we were: it must have been awful for them to rake up these dreadful memories.
I thought about the children in our extended family, and what they were like at the age of five. Innocent girls and boys with nothing on their minds except what to play with next, which sweets to choose from the shop or how many sleeps it was until Christmas.
I also thought that, from this moment in time, I would never see Danielle in the same way again. What a dreadful, shocking existence she had had. I felt very glad that Jonathan and I had recognised she had complex needs from the start, and tried to reward good behaviour rather than imposing consequences for her ‘bad’ behaviour. In hindsight, that had been a very good move, because clearly Danielle had had such a traumatic, tragic upbringing she needed understanding and nurturing, not telling off. She had not been taught right from wrong like other children. She had been used and abused by evil men, and she was a very confused and damaged girl. Now, I thought, we’d have to tread even more carefully in how we helped her through each day.
Before Jonathan and I arrived at Iris and Kenneth’s bungalow I’d had a mental checklist of questions I wanted to ask, if I felt they were appropriate. After this, everything else paled in importance in my mind. My head ached and I couldn’t think what to say, and Jonathan was the same. We subsequently found ourselves, rather bizarrely, making chitchat with Iris and Kenneth about some random topics like the importance of bees and the shortage of retirement housing in our area, which was a topic I struggled to find anything interesting to say on.
We thanked them both for their help and hospitality and we set up a time to bring Danielle round for a visit: we’d already run this past Social Services and they were happy for it to happen. Iris and Kenneth said they couldn’t wait to see Danielle – it had been nearly six months since they’d last seen her – and they paid us a compliment as they bid us goodbye.
‘You’re two lovely people,’ Iris declared. ‘I know good hearts when I meet them. Thank God Danielle has finally landed on her feet.’
At that moment I remembered one of my key questions. How could I have forgotten? My mind had been thrown into turmoil.
‘Ah, yes, her last carers. I – er – I heard you were denied contact . . . Can I ask, just briefly, what happened with Glennis and Mike? I hope I’m not talking out of turn.’
‘That woman!’ Iris frowned. ‘Least said soonest mended when it comes to that one. I wish Danielle had never stepped foot in that house. Anyway, let’s not dwell on the negative. It’s a long story and has absolutely nothing to do with Kenneth and me. I want to make that clear. I’ll tell you about it another time, if you really need to know. But personally I’d say good riddance to bad hearts. I’m just glad Danielle’s out of there.’
It was a lot to take in. As Jonathan and I drove home we began to pick over what had been said.
‘It’s no wonder at all that senior Social Services officials described Danielle as one of the most damaged children they had ever come across,’ I said.
‘Poor child,’ Jonathan said. ‘You think you’ve heard it all, and then you realise what evil bastards there are in this world.’
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Jonathan very rarely swears. I looked at him and saw tears trickle down his cheeks. I put my hand on his knee. ‘Come on, love. Like Iris said, best not to dwell on the past. For Danielle’s sake we need to look forward, not back.’
We discussed how we could help improve Danielle’s life. Making sure she kept up all her various dates with the psychologist, the tutor, Deirdre and Hatty was very important, of course, and Jonathan and I wanted to do everything in our power to change Danielle’s life. We wanted to help her put the past behind her, but was that possible?
We talked about what else we could do on a practical level. During her time with us we’d already been asked to take in two other children, just for the odd night of respite care. I’d refused, based on my gut feeling. Now Jonathan and I decided to formalise that decision, and we both agreed that while Danielle was with us we’d give her our full attention and make it a rule not to take in any other children at all, not even for one night. We felt this was a positive step, but still we wanted to do so much more. Really, we wanted to have a magic wand and transform Danielle’s life for the better, overnight. We felt so protective of her, and so sorry for her. We desperately hoped that when we had the upcoming review meeting she would be happy to agree to stay with us for the extra six months, so at least we could have the chance of doing as much as we possibly could for her.
The review meeting went well. Danielle immediately said she wanted to stay with us, as long as Scooter could stay too. This made everybody smile, and Nelson made a joke about whether or not Social Services had passed us to care for a ‘cheeky rodent’ like Scooter. Danielle laughed, and it was so good to see her looking relaxed in such a situation.
I often try to put myself in the child’s shoes and remember what I was like at their age, as far as I can. I was the sort of child who didn’t like being away from my parents, and those rare occasions when I was forced to spend time away from my mum and dad are still etched on my mind. I hated it, and I couldn’t imagine how I would have coped if I’d had to go into foster care or be moved from one carer to another. I also try to remember other times in my life when I’ve felt like a fish out of water, like when I started primary school and even when I got my first job as a teenager. I was nervous and anxious and I didn’t like the feeling that the ground was shifting beneath my feet and my life was changing.
I imagined that being in this review meeting, even for a short time, would be a hundred times more disconcerting for Danielle than anything I had ever experienced as a young person. She must have felt so lost and lonely and unsettled, and so disappointed with the hand she’d been dealt that had brought her to this point. Her dad had betrayed her and he was in prison. Her mum had run out on her, and now she had to face all these people who were deciding what would happen in the next chapter of her life. No child should have to go through what she had suffered, and my heart went out to her, it really did.
Jonathan and I said emphatically that we were more than happy to have Danielle staying with us, and she smiled. As she did so I noticed her shoulders drop by what looked like several inches. She must have been hunched up with tension until that moment, which I found upsetting.
A duty social worker took Danielle to wait outside, and when she’d left the room Jonathan and I told the team we’d met with Iris and Kenneth and were going to reunite them with Danielle, as we’d previously discussed.
‘We feel it will be a very positive thing for Danielle to keep in contact with them. Can I ask, have you got to the bottom yet of what happened with her previous carers, when they stopped Danielle seeing Iris and Kenneth, and Hatty?’
‘Yes,’ Susan said. ‘We have.’
She explained that when Glennis and Mike were fostering Danielle, they were questioned about benefit fraud. Apparently the story had recently been on our local news, though Jonathan and I hadn’t seen it. I think Susan pointed this out to make it clear she was not breaching confidentialities, as the matter was in the public domain.
‘It appears they tried to cut themselves off from people when the police got involved, presumably as they didn’t want anyone to know what was going on. Unfortunately this meant cutting Danielle off too, from the people she was closest to.’
‘I see,’ I said flatly, thinking how incredibly selfish this was, and how unlucky Danielle had been to be caught up in such a situation.
I was extremely annoyed with Glennis and Mike, but relieved Susan had shared this information. At least we’d got to the bottom of the mystery at long last, and I thought to myself that it was hardly any wonder, in the circumstances, that Glennis and Mike could not cope when Danielle was excluded from school. They clearly had enough on their plate already.
Susan’s frankness gave me the confidence to explain that Iris and Kenneth had filled us in on the details of Danielle’s abuse, and to ask if there was anything else we should know.
‘Jonathan and I want to help Danielle as best we can. We don’t want to take in any other children while she is with us, so we can focus fully on her needs. If there is any further information that you feel might help us, it would be good to hear that now.’
Susan replied that she felt we were ‘up to speed’.
‘Danielle’s psychologist is pleased with how she is responding in her sessions. I’ll ask her if there are any useful tips she could pass on to you, if you’d like me to?’
‘Yes, please, we would. I feel we need all the help we can get.’
It was very disheartening to hear what Danielle had gone through because of Glennis and Mike’s problems and I still had a lot of questions I wished I could find answers to. After the meeting I vented some of my anger at the situation.
‘How could they let their actions affect Danielle like that?’ I fumed to Jonathan. ‘And if it’s true that they told Danielle we were only looking after her for the money, what a nerve, in the circumstances! Let’s hope that part is not true.’
Jonathan let me rant for a while before suggesting, wisely, that there was no point in dwelling on what had happened in the past, as it wouldn’t change anything. I had to agree. It was time to move on, in a positive way. Danielle was staying with us and we were determined to turn her misfortunes around and help create a better future for her.
12
‘It’s your job to worry about kids like me’
Danielle had dropped a dress size thanks to the exercise she was doing with Deirdre and because she was eating a healthier diet most of the time, at least when she was at home with us and we could keep an eye on what she was consuming. I must admit, I told Jonathan I was a bit envious, as I would dearly love to drop a dress size!
We decided to take her to an out-of-town shopping centre to buy her some new clothes, and she seemed thrilled at the prospect.
‘I’ve never been there!’ she said. ‘I’ve always wanted to go! Why are you being so nice to me?’ She suddenly looked suspicious, and I made sure I nipped this in the bud.
‘Danielle, you need some new clothes and that’s why we’re taking you shopping. There’s no hidden agenda!’
‘Hidden what?’
‘By that I mean there is no hidden reason. You need new clothes, and the out-of-town centre is a great place to go shopping as they have so much choice, and all the shops are big so there’s always a good chance you can find what you want.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, absolutely certain.’
In fact, Jonathan and I thought it would be a nice treat for her too, and it seemed fitting for Danielle to have a fresh wardrobe when she was starting a new phase of her placement with us. We wanted to do everything we could to make her feel good about herself and to make her happy while she was with us.
Unfortunately, the shopping trip was fraught with tension. Danielle wouldn’t trust my opinion on anything and wanted to show everything she tried on to Jonathan for his approval.
‘Where is he?’ she shouted from the door of the changing rooms in one of the department stores.
&nbs
p; ‘He’s gone up to menswear, Danielle.’
‘Can you go and get him?’
‘No, sweetheart. He’s probably trying things on himself. He’s after some new shorts. I said we’ll meet him in the cafe.’
‘Oh! I’ll just leave it then!’
She calmed down after we’d had a drink and a snack but then her face fell when Jonathan said he hadn’t found what he was looking for and needed to go off on his own again.
‘Why can’t you stay with us?’
‘Because I have things I need to buy, Danielle.’ He added in a whisper, ‘That’s what I always do when Angela is shopping for clothes. I keep out the way, I think it’s best!’
Danielle smiled and reluctantly accepted this, agreeing to carry on shopping just with me. It wasn’t a pleasant experience at all, because for the next hour or so she insisted on trying things on that didn’t fit properly or were inappropriate, then blaming me when they weren’t right. If I suggested she might need the next size up or said a different style might suit her better, she snapped at me.
‘You don’t like anything, do you? How am I supposed to shop with you? It’s impossible!’
Eventually I said we’d better call it a day, and that flicked a switch.
‘No!’ she cried in alarm. ‘No, I’m not calling it a day!’
After that she completely changed her attitude and did her very best to find all the items we had on our list. When it was time to meet Jonathan in the car park, Danielle had several carrier bags full of all her new clothes, which included two skirts, a couple of tops, a pair of shorts, new underwear and a sports bra.
As we stepped outside the front entrance of the shopping centre, Danielle spotted Jonathan walking on the opposite side of the car park. All of a sudden, and without any warning, she bolted towards him, completely failing to spot a car coming round the corner. The driver slammed on the brakes and missed hitting Danielle by a whisker: the front of the car stopped so close to her that it actually brushed into her shopping bags. The lady driver got out, looking visibly shaken.