by Cathy Glass
Mrs Bridges nodded, thanked the headmaster and left him to attend to his other business. It was all they could do.
The following morning Lucy’s aunt brought her into school. Lucy looked cleaner than she had done since the start of term: her hair was freshly washed and tied back neatly into a ponytail and her clothes were stain free. At the end of the day, Mrs Bridges stood in the playground dispensing children to the adults responsible for collecting them, and Lucy’s aunt approached her.
‘Nice to meet you at last,’ she said, smiling. ‘Sorry about the misunderstanding. Lucy and I have had a chat and we’re getting along much better now.’
Mrs Bridges smiled and nodded, although, apart from looking cleaner, Lucy had been no less withdrawn that day and hadn’t seemed much happier. Lucy’s aunt was in her early thirties, with blonde hair, and was dressed in tight black leggings, knee-length boots and an imitation leather jacket.
‘Let me know if I can help Lucy with her school work,’ the aunt offered.
‘You could hear her read each evening to help her catch up,’ Mrs Bridges suggested. ‘And also give her some help with her weekend homework.’
‘Sure will,’ the aunt said enthusiastically, and went to take Lucy’s hand.
Mrs Bridges noticed that Lucy shied away and refused to take her aunt’s hand, and then walked some distance behind her as they left the playground.
What impression Mrs Bridges formed of Lucy’s aunt wasn’t noted in the records. However, what was noted was that the improvement in Lucy’s appearance lasted for a week and then quickly tailed off. Two weeks later Lucy was again coming into school looking unkempt and uncared for, and she remained quiet and withdrawn in class.
A month later – at the end of October – the class was preparing for Halloween. The children were cutting out silhouettes of ghouls and witches to stick on a wall frieze when Sammy casually remarked to Mrs Bridges: ‘At least Lucy’s witch has gone. Flown off on her broomstick. Hope she falls off.’
Mrs Bridges paused from cutting out to look at Sammy. ‘Lucy’s aunt has left?’ she asked him quietly, so none of the other children could hear.
‘Yes, Miss. Good riddance, I say.’
‘So who’s looking after Lucy now?’
‘Her dad.’
‘You mean her stepfather, Dave?’
‘Yes, Miss. But he’s no better than that aunt. Lucy hates him. Pity she can’t live with me. I asked me mum but she said we ain’t got enough room, and Lucy needed to tell her social worker.’
‘Lucy’s aunt has gone, and Lucy told Sammy she hates her stepfather and wants to live with Sammy,’ Mrs Bridges said to the headmaster as soon as he was free. ‘And I don’t think it’s appropriate for a six-year-old girl to be in the sole care of a stepfather whom she doesn’t even like.’
‘But what real concerns are there?’ the head asked. ‘Is Lucy saying he’s abusing her?’
‘No, she’s not saying anything, or if she is Sammy isn’t telling me,’ Mrs Bridges said a little tersely. ‘It’s not as though there haven’t been concerns before.’
‘But they were unproven,’ the head said.
There was a pause as Mrs Bridges and the head looked at each other, both deep in thought. Mrs Bridges knew there wasn’t enough evidence to action an investigation, but she couldn’t just do nothing.
Fortunately, neither could the head. ‘I’ll speak to the social worker as soon as I have a free moment and explain that Lucy’s home situation has changed. I’ll suggest they make another home visit.’
‘Thank you.’
Two weeks later the headmaster informed Mrs Bridges that a social worker had visited Lucy and her stepfather and that no further action would be taken. A note to this effect was placed on file at the school, and Mrs Bridges couldn’t do any more, other than to keep an eye on Lucy as she continued in her role as class teacher; there were, after all, other children in the class apart from Lucy. Two months passed, Christmas came and went, and on the morning the children returned to school most of them were full of the wonderful time they’d had over the holiday and the presents they’d received. But Lucy, as usual, hardly said a word, and when Mrs Bridges asked her if she’d had a nice time at Christmas she replied with a small nod, which could have meant anything. Mrs Bridges knew better than to press Lucy and possibly embarrass her by asking what presents she’d had, for it might have been something very small or perhaps even nothing. However, Sammy, being Sammy, was more forthcoming.
‘I got a brand-new bike!’ he announced to the class. ‘From me mum’s new bloke. I’ve decided he’s all right, so I’ve told me mum he can stay.’ Even the class of six-year-olds appreciated Sammy’s humour and laughed.
But later that morning, at break time, Sammy hung back as the children filed out of the classroom. ‘Can I speak to you, Miss?’ he asked. ‘In private, please.’
Mrs Bridges waited until the last child had left the classroom and closed the door. She assumed the reason Sammy wanted to speak to her related to worries about his mother’s new partner. There was an extrovert side to Sammy, which kept the class entertained, but there was also a much deeper, sensitive side that worried and fretted. He often confided his worries about his mother’s new partners to Mrs Bridges. As usual she drew out two school chairs from under the table, and they sat down.
‘It’s about Lucy, Miss,’ Sammy began, immediately serious. ‘Don’t tell her I told you, but she had a rotten Christmas. Dave brought home his new bird, and I don’t mean the turkey sort. He and his woman spent all Christmas day in bed and left Lucy to play outside by herself. I couldn’t play out with her, Miss. I was with me family. I mean, you have to spend Christmas with your family, don’t ya, Miss?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ Mrs Bridges said, upset at the thought of Lucy alone and outside on Christmas day. ‘It’s not your fault, Sammy,’ she added, for clearly Sammy felt guilty for not playing with her. ‘But you understand that in order to help Lucy I’m going to have to share what you’ve told me with the headmaster, who will tell the social worker?’
‘Yes, Miss, I know. I think you should. Lucy needs looking after. Even my mum says so.’
Mrs Bridges went to the head with what Sammy had told her and he duly contacted the social services, who said they would make a home visit. Following that home visit, it was felt that although the change in care provider – that is, Dave’s new girlfriend (also referred to as Lucy’s ‘aunt’) – was unsettling, at least the other caregiver – Dave – had remained constant, which gave Lucy some degree of stability. The decision to take a child into care is never taken lightly and has to be carefully weighed up, possibly leaving a child in a less-than-perfect home environment, rather than placing them in a foster home where they would lose the family they knew and all that was familiar.
A second home visit was scheduled to take place a month later, but the records show that before this happened a fight broke out between Dave and his new girlfriend and the police were called. As soon as the police had gone, the new girlfriend packed her bags and moved out. Dave, a year behind with his rent and having ignored all demands and summons for payment, was then served with a court order giving him notice to leave the property. Dave took Lucy with him to live with his older sister, whose home was twenty miles away, which made it impossible for Lucy to continue to attend the same school. Without prior notice, and therefore giving the class no chance to say goodbye to Lucy, she vanished. The school informed the social services; they traced Dave’s sister and a social worker visited. The social worker must have decided that the living arrangements were satisfactory, as no further action was taken at this time.
It was two years before Lucy came to the attention of the social services again. Now aged eight, she was living in the Midlands with her mother and her mother’s new boyfriend. One night, a neighbour became so concerned by the adults arguing and throwing things next door that she called the police. When the police entered the flat they found the living-room floor littered with bro
ken items that had been thrown and Lucy cowering under a blanket in a bedroom. The police calmed the adults and, once satisfied that they wouldn’t resume their fighting, they left. However, concerned for the child, and following normal procedure, they reported the incident to the social services. Lucy had been using Dave’s surname since she’d first been taken to live with him and her details came up on the social services computer system, together with the previous social services involvement. A social worker visited Bonnie and she admitted that she wasn’t coping. Why she’d taken Lucy from Dave and his sister isn’t known, but she told the social worker that Dave, whom she’d previously encouraged Lucy to look upon as a father and had happily left Lucy with, was a ‘no-good piece of shit’, and they wouldn’t be having anything to do with him again. After some discussion, Bonnie agreed for Lucy to be taken into foster care – under a Section 20.
The foster carer Lucy was sent to live with already had two foster children, a brother and sister who’d been there for nearly three years. It’s clear from the records that Lucy struggled to fit into this foster family right from the start. The carer commented that Lucy wasn’t a sociable child; didn’t make any effort to get along with the other two children; had low self-esteem; rarely smiled or laughed and was ‘difficult’ – hardly surprising given the momentous upheavals and anxieties that had beset Lucy throughout her short life. It can be hard in any case for a new child to fit into an established household such as this one, and the situation requires a lot of time and patience from the carer. But this carer seems to have labelled Lucy as sullen and uncooperative from the start, with every disagreement between the three children being put down to Lucy’s bad temper and lack of cooperation. Whether Lucy was ill-tempered and obstinate or not, the carer’s attitude meant that the placement was doomed to fail. Bonnie visited Lucy at the foster home once a week to begin with, then once a month, and then there was nothing for three months.
When Lucy had been with this foster carer for eleven months, the carer gave notice on the placement and asked for Lucy to be moved, citing the negative impact Lucy’s presence was having on the other two children. Placement breakdowns, as they are known, happen; sometimes they are unavoidable and a move is in everyone’s best interest. However, at other times, if support is given to the foster family, rather than just leaving the carer to get on with it, the placement can be saved and the child does not have to be moved. Whether support would have helped Lucy stay in this placement will never be known, but the result was that Lucy had to pack and leave. This meant another move, more insecurity and another rejection for Lucy in a lifetime of insecurity and rejections.
Lucy was now sent to live with a foster carer five miles away who was a single parent with a daughter the same age as Lucy. When Lucy first arrived the carer commented to her support social worker that Lucy was more like a child just coming into care (from a neglected home), rather than from another carer. She looked unkempt, had head lice and came with very few possessions. The hope is that all foster carers provide a high standard of care for all the children they look after, but sadly this is not always so. Although foster carers are trained and carefully monitored, the standard of care-giving can vary. When the previous carer was questioned by her support social worker, she said she washed Lucy’s hair regularly, but Lucy insisted on taking out her plait at school, which made her prone to catching head lice. She also said that she’d bought Lucy lots of things, but when Lucy got angry she broke them. Maybe she did, or maybe she wasn’t looked after as well as the other two children.
Lucy’s new placement was quite different. Her carer put a lot of effort into making Lucy feel welcome and part of her family. Lucy got along well with the carer’s daughter and finally began to smile and play as a child should. Sadly, this was a small oasis of security and happiness in an otherwise vast desert of change and anxiety. Three months later, Bonnie, having been notified of the change in carer (which the social services were obliged to do under a Section 20), said she wanted Lucy back. She was now living in a small rented flat, so she gave the social services her new address and, with a day’s notice, took Lucy home with her. The carer said that Lucy hadn’t wanted to go but didn’t feel she had any choice. Bonnie promised to keep in touch with the carer and meet up, but she never heard from her again.
Bonnie hadn’t been able to look after Lucy before and there was no reason to think she could do so now. Nothing had changed in her life apart from a different flat and a new boyfriend. The social services monitored the family for six months and as concerns grew, and the threshold for intervention was reached, Lucy was taken into care. This time it was with a court order and not under a Section 20, which gave the social services more power, and should have given Lucy more security.
The foster carers Lucy was now sent to live with were a married couple who had two teenage children and lived in a comfortable modern house on a new estate on the outskirts of the city. Unfortunately the mother didn’t drive and the school Lucy had been attending for the previous six months – when she’d been living with her mother – was over an hour’s bus journey away. It was felt that this was too far for a child Lucy’s age to travel and that, in any case, Lucy might find it embarrassing to arrive at school with a foster carer when she had previously been seen with her mother. It was therefore decided that a fresh start at a new school would be beneficial, so Lucy was sent to the local primary school. By now, excluding nursery school, Lucy had attended at least six different primary schools in five years. Exactly how many different addresses Lucy had lived at by then is hard to ascertain, but a conservative estimate at the time put it in excess of thirty.
Although Lucy was nearly three years behind with her learning she began to make some progress at this school and also enjoyed a pleasant Christmas with her foster family. However, when Lucy had been living with these carers for five months, the family’s fortunes abruptly changed: the factory where the foster father worked gave notice to all its employees that it was having to close. It made the offer that any employee who had been working at the company for over five years could relocate to their other factory – eighty miles north. With unemployment high and jobs scarce, the family understandably felt they should accept the offer to relocate, and they suggested to the social services that Lucy could go with them. Although Lucy was in care under a court order, it was an Interim Care Order, which meant that Lucy’s mother still had a say in any decision-making about Lucy. Bonnie had seen Lucy twice during this five-month period, but now invoked her rights and objected to Lucy moving out of the area in case she wanted to see her more often, which would be difficult if Lucy was living so far away. As a result, the family moved and Lucy was moved to another foster home.
The only carer free in the area at that time was a baby carer – that is, she was approved to foster babies up to the age of two. Lucy was placed with her temporarily until a more suitable carer in the area became free. Repeated moves for children in care for reasons like these are all too common and the whole system needs a thorough overhaul to ensure that unnecessary moves are eliminated as much as possible.
Two months after being placed with this carer, Lucy, now eleven, began at the local secondary school – a big enough step in itself without the uncertainty of not knowing where she would be living in a few months’ time. Six weeks later a more suitable carer became free in the area and Lucy arrived home from school one afternoon to be told that she would be moving at the weekend. Although Lucy had always known at the back of her mind that she’d have to move again one day, on top of just starting secondary school and the accumulated years of neglect, misery and continuous upheaval, it all became too much. As the carer began explaining to Lucy that her social worker would take her for a visit to meet her new foster carer, Cathy, and her two children, Lucy let out the most blood-curdling scream and then fled upstairs and locked herself in the bathroom – the only room in the house with a lock on the door.
The carer, frightened at the sudden outburst from a ch
ild who was usually very placid, quiet and obedient, ran upstairs after her. She then spent over half an hour outside the bathroom door trying to reason with Lucy and persuade her to come out. Lucy’s sobs grew louder and more disturbing. By the time the carer’s husband came home from work, Lucy’s hysterical shouts could be heard from outside: ‘I hate you all! I’m not going anywhere! I’m going to kill myself!’ she cried.
PART TWO
Chapter Ten
‘A Family of My Own’
‘It’s a nightmare,’ Jill, my support social worker, said over the phone. ‘The carer’s husband had to break down the bathroom door to get Lucy out, and she’s still refusing to speak to anyone.’
‘The poor child,’ I said. ‘You can’t blame Lucy for being so upset. Her life has been a misery, more or less from day one. No wonder she’s so angry and feels unwanted. No one has wanted her.’
‘I know. You’ve read the referral?’
‘Yes.’ Because Lucy had been coming to me as a planned move, I’d had a chance to read the referral so that I could better understand Lucy and cater for her needs. As well as briefly describing Lucy’s strengths and weaknesses, the referral gave a short history of her past. If a child came to me as an emergency foster placement I knew very little about the child, sometimes nothing. ‘Yes, I’ve read the referral,’ I said. ‘I nearly cried. Lucy deserved so much better. She’s been treated dreadfully.’
‘Absolutely,’ Jill said. ‘But the fact remains, she still has to move and at present she’s refusing to even visit you, or see her social worker. I’m sure she’d feel a bit better about the move if she could meet you, Adrian and Paula beforehand, see her bedroom and have a look around the house. But we can’t force her.’ And of course if Lucy was refusing even to meet me, how on earth were they going to move her?