Girl Alone: Joss came home from school to discover her father’s suicide. Angry and hurting, she’s out of control.

by Cathy Glass

  I could appreciate that, exhausted and traumatized, Joss just wanted her bed, but from what Jill had said, if we left now and came back tomorrow valuable DNA evidence could be lost.

  ‘Why don’t you stretch out on the sofa and try to have a little sleep,’ I suggested. ‘I’ll sit on the easy chair.’

  ‘No. I want you to stay next to me,’ she said, clutching my arm.

  ‘All right, love.’

  I stayed where I was and held her close. How dearly I wished I could turn back the clock and undo all that had happened to her that evening – indeed, undo all the bad that had happened to her in the last four years, starting with her father’s death. Joss had already suffered so much, and now this. Would she ever get over it? I doubted it.

  Another five minutes passed and more footsteps sounded along the corridor. They stopped outside the door and we heard the duty officer say, ‘They’re in here.’

  The door opened and Linda came in. Joss immediately stood and rushed into her mother’s arms and wept.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ the officer asked me, looking concerned.

  I nodded. ‘She’s very upset.’

  ‘Ann shouldn’t be too long now,’ he said. ‘Do you need anything?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  He nodded stoically and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Linda and Joss stood in the middle of the room, clutching each other and crying openly. ‘Oh, Joss,’ Linda said. ‘Whatever happened?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I’m so sorry,’ Joss wept.

  ‘I knew something like this would happen,’ Linda said through her tears. ‘As if we haven’t had enough upset in our lives, and now this.’

  It was pitiful to see and I felt my own eyes fill. I stood and went over to them. ‘Come and sit down,’ I said, touching Linda’s arm.

  ‘Thanks, Cathy. I’m sorry.’ Then to Joss, ‘Come on, love. Let’s go and sit down.’ She put her arm around her daughter and led her to the sofa, where they sat side by side. I took the easy chair, while Joss rested her head on her mother’s shoulder and snuggled into her as she had done previously with me.

  ‘It’s going to be all right,’ Linda said, trying to comfort and soothe her daughter. ‘We’ll get through this. You’ll see.’ She reached down into her handbag and took out a packet of tissues. Taking one out, she turned to face Joss and began wiping the tears from her eyes as the mother of a young child would. ‘We need to be strong and face this together,’ Linda said. ‘We can do it, just as we’ve faced other bad times.’ It was heartbreaking to watch.

  As Linda continued to wipe away Joss’s tears and comfort her, I could see the mother and daughter bond that had been there before Linda had remarried and their relationship had gone so horribly wrong. It crossed my mind that perhaps this catastrophe, this appalling attack on Joss, might lead the way to them building the bridges they desperately needed to regain what they’d had. Sometimes it takes a tragedy to steer families back on course.

  Linda wiped her own eyes, and now Joss was calmer they sat back together on the sofa. Linda put her arm around her daughter and Joss relaxed against her.

  ‘They said the interviewing officer has been delayed,’ Linda said to me. ‘Apparently she’ll be about another twenty minutes.’

  Joss groaned. ‘I want to go, Mum.’

  ‘Not until you’ve given your statement,’ Linda said. ‘I want that bastard prosecuted.’

  I was pleased Linda recognized how important it was Joss stayed and that she was being firm with her. We sat quietly for a while and then Linda began making light conversation, probably as a displacement for her own anxiety. She said how nice Jill had been when she’d telephoned and that she must be very supportive and a great help with fostering. I said she was and we talked a bit about fostering. Then Linda looked at her watch and said, ‘It’s nearly quarter to one, Cathy. Why don’t you go home? I can stay with Joss.’

  Because Joss was in care under a Section 20, I could leave her with her mother. Had she been the subject of a Care Order from the court, I would have had to stay with her.

  ‘I don’t mind waiting,’ I said.

  ‘It’s OK. You go,’ Joss said. ‘Mum can stay with me.’

  ‘Go and get some sleep,’ Linda said. ‘I’m grateful for all you’ve done.’ So with that, I thought they would prefer it if I left.

  ‘All right, if you’re sure,’ I said, moving to the edge of my seat. ‘Phone me when you’ve finished and I’ll come and collect Joss.’

  ‘There’s no need. I have my car,’ Linda said. ‘I’ll bring her back afterwards.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Take care.’ I didn’t know what else to say. I smiled weakly and left the room.

  I walked down the corridor and to the rear of the reception.

  ‘You going?’ the duty officer asked.

  ‘Yes. Joss has her mother with her now.’

  He unlocked the small gate and I went out. The middle-aged man we’d seen earlier through the glass door was now inside and sitting on one of the chairs. His clothes were badly stained and he smelt unwashed, but as I walked past him he tipped his hat and said a polite ‘Good evening’.

  ‘Good evening,’ I said, and continued to the door, which opened automatically.

  I stepped out into the cool night air and made my way to my car.

  Remorse, guilt and regret can befall anyone at any time, but never more so than in fostering, with the sensitive and emotionally charged situations we often have to deal with. As a carer looking after children with challenging behaviour, I’d often found myself regretting something I’d said or done, a decision made or not made, and then beating myself up about the outcome until I eventually took the lesson from the mistake and moved on. I was grateful Linda wasn’t blaming me for what had happened to Joss, as I certainly felt responsible. Linda had placed her faith in me, given me responsibility for her daughter, and I’d failed her and Joss miserably. If there was anything to be learned from what had happened I couldn’t see it as I drove through the now deserted streets, sinking deeper into a gloom of guilt and regret. I had two daughters of my own and certainly wouldn’t have allowed them out as Joss had been allowed out. True, they didn’t want to go out and challenge the boundaries as Joss had, but if they did I would pin them to the floor rather than allow them to place themselves in danger.

  As I parked on the drive and cut the engine I was at an all-time low. What had happened to Joss would blight her life for many, many years to come. She would never forget it and I felt responsible. I let myself in and saw the light flashing on the answerphone. I pressed play and heard Jill’s voice, flat and emotionless: ‘Cathy, can you phone me when you return, please.’ The message was timed at 12.55, ten minutes previously.

  I mechanically slipped off my shoes, hung my jacket on the coat stand and went through to the kitchen where I poured myself a glass of water and drank it straight down. It was quiet upstairs, so I assumed Adrian was still asleep, and the girls wouldn’t return from their sleepovers until the following day. At least they hadn’t had to go through this with Joss and me. I went into the living room. Toscha was still curled up on the sofa. As I sat beside her she looked at me as though expecting to be taken through to her bed in the kitchen, where she spent the night. I picked up the telephone from the corner table and dialled Homefinders’ number. It rang and then there was the usual few seconds’ delay as the call was transferred to the agency’s out-of-hours service, then Jill answered.

  ‘You’re back sooner than I thought,’ she said.

  ‘Linda wanted to stay with Joss, so I left them. I hope that was all right. The interviewing officer hadn’t arrived by the time I left.’

  ‘That’s fine, but you sound very low. How are you?’

  ‘I’ll get by,’ I said.

  ‘I don’t think you could have done any more for Joss,’ Jill said, which didn’t help and seemed to emphasize my failings.

  ‘Do you know the details of what
happened to Joss?’ she asked.

  I told Jill what I knew. I heard Jill give a heartfelt sigh.

  ‘The poor kid. When you have a moment can you write it up? For now, though, try to get some rest,’ Jill said kindly. ‘You must be exhausted. They’ll be a couple of hours at the station at least. I’ve informed the duty social worker at the social services, and I’ll speak to Amelia tomorrow. How was Joss when you left her?’

  ‘Quiet, upset and coping as best she can,’ I said. ‘I would have stayed but she wanted her mother, so I thought it best to leave them.’

  ‘Yes. Linda is sensible. How is Joss getting back?’

  ‘Linda is going to bring her.’

  ‘OK. I’m on duty until seven o’clock tomorrow morning, so phone me if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk. Otherwise I’ll speak to you tomorrow – or rather, today.’

  ‘Thank you, Jill.’

  ‘And Cathy. Try to get some rest.’

  ‘I will.’

  I slowly replaced the handset and then spent some moments staring unseeing across the living room. Toscha had gone back to sleep beside me and I absent-mindedly stroked her fur. Jill was right when she said I was exhausted, but I knew I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t know when Joss would be back, and my head was throbbing and my thoughts were racing with the horror of what had happened that evening. Joss had gone out, a young teenager with attitude, and had arrived back a broken woman, a victim of a dreadful sexual attack. How had all this been allowed to happen? I played through the sequence of events in my mind over and over again. Then I forced my eyes to close and rested my head on the sofa back, trying to ease the tension. But the thoughts persisted, torturing me like red-hot needles. If it was bad for me, how much worse was it for Joss – the victim? And her poor mother. They would probably be with the interviewing officer now, Joss going into the details of what had happened to her, and her mother having to listen. It was every mother’s worst nightmare to have to hear the details of her daughter’s rape.

  Despite the torment of my thoughts I must have eventually dozed off, for when my eyes opened again the clock on the mantelpiece showed 2.45 a.m. I sat forward and then stood to go and make myself a coffee. Toscha looked at me. As I left the room, she followed me into the kitchen, where she put herself to bed. I made a mug of coffee and took it into the living room where I sat on the sofa and switched the television on low as a background distraction. I hadn’t had the television on in the early hours since my husband, John, had left me many years before, when the children were little. Then I’d been up all night worrying and fretting, and had regularly passed the long nights with the television for company.

  I slowly sipped my coffee, placed the empty mug on the corner table and closed my eyes again. Some time later I came to with a start as the front doorbell rang. And for a moment, before I was fully awake, I thought I’d been dreaming and that everything that had happened that evening had been a dreadful nightmare, until reality set in and I remembered.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lying?

  The clock on the mantelpiece showed it was 4 a.m. I quickly switched off the television and went down the hall to open the front door. Joss and her mother stood side by side, pale and drawn.

  ‘Come in,’ I said, opening the door wider.

  ‘I’m going to bed,’ Joss said as they stepped in. She was wearing the change of clothes we’d taken with us.

  ‘Do you need anything?’ Linda asked her.

  ‘No,’ Joss returned. I closed the front door.

  ‘I’ll see you, then,’ Linda called as Joss began upstairs.

  ‘Yes. Goodnight.’

  ‘Night, love,’ I said.

  Linda and I watched Joss go upstairs until she’d turned the corner on the landing to go to her bedroom.

  ‘Do you want to come and sit for a while?’ I asked Linda.

  ‘I wouldn’t mind,’ she sighed. ‘I’m tired, but I’m not ready to go home yet and explain all of this to Eric.’

  We went through to the living room. ‘Can I get you a drink?’ I asked.

  ‘No, thanks. I had one at the police station. They were very kind.’

  We sat down. Linda took the sofa, and I one of the chairs. She looked shattered, and I too felt the weight of all that had happened that evening.

  ‘I don’t know, Cathy,’ she sighed, shaking her head in despair. ‘Joss made a statement, but I’m not sure if it’s strong enough to have them convicted. She was very confused and kept changing her mind. Ann and her colleague were very patient, but they had to keep stopping Joss to clarify points. I hope I’m wrong, but I felt it didn’t look good on Joss.’

  ‘Did she tell them all they needed to know?’ I asked.

  ‘In the end, but she was reluctant to say how she first met Zach and Carl, which they wanted to know. Apparently it was at Chelsea’s flat. I think Joss was trying to protect them all. As if they’ve done her any favours! I gather that flat is a right mess and has been raided by the police for drink and drug offences. The police seemed to know it.’

  ‘I wasn’t aware of that, but when I first went there I reported my concerns to the social services. I’m sorry I didn’t do more to stop Joss from going there.’ I felt even guiltier now.

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ Linda said quietly. ‘Joss can be very strong-willed when she wants to be. I wish she hadn’t changed her story, though. First she told the police she’d been at the flat all evening and that Zach and Carl had offered her a lift home, but then she admitted she’d been out with them all evening.’

  ‘That’s what Joss told me,’ I said. ‘I think she thought it might reflect badly on her if she admitted she’d been out drinking with them.’

  Linda nodded sadly. ‘I hope the police realized Joss was still in shock and couldn’t think straight.’

  ‘I’m sure they did,’ I said, trying to reassure her.

  ‘When Ann asked Joss which bars they’d been to, how much they’d had to drink and who had bought the drinks, she kept saying she didn’t know. Ann asked if she was frightened of what Zach and Carl might do to her if she told the truth and she admitted she was. It took a lot of reassurance before she was able to give them the details of the rape – or rather, attempted rape. It seems from Joss’s description that – to use the term the police used – “full penetration” didn’t take place.’ Linda’s eyes immediately filled and she pulled a tissue from her pocket.

  I went over and sat beside her on the sofa; I lightly rubbed her arm as she wiped her eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘But the things I’ve had to listen to tonight. It was dreadful.’

  ‘I can appreciate that. But the more details the police have, the more likely they are to be able to prosecute.’

  ‘That’s what they said. They asked Joss to describe Zach’s underwear, and if he’d been circumcised and if he had an erection. I mean, Cathy,’ Linda said, turning to me, her brow creasing again, ‘Joss is thirteen. She may have seen her little brother in the bath, but she’s never seen an adult male naked. And we’ve never really talked about that sort of thing. I was going to leave it until she was older.’

  Linda began to cry openly so I put my arm around her and comforted her as best I could. My thoughts turned to Lucy and Paula, of similar ages to Joss, and how absolutely horrendous it would be for them if they had found themselves in Joss’s situation. It didn’t bear thinking about.

  After a while Linda wiped her eyes and continued. ‘From what Joss told the police, it seems Zach had had so much to drink that he couldn’t “enter her”, as the police put it. That’s when Carl said he wanted to have a go. Those were his words, Cathy: “Let me have a go and see if I can do it.” They were laughing. But when Carl began climbing over from the front seat to get in the back of the car, Zach loosened his grip on Joss and she managed to knee him in the crotch and get out. She ran into town and then caught the bus here.’

  Tears streamed down Linda’s face again and she sobbed uncontrollab
ly. I held her and soothed her until eventually her tears were spent and she couldn’t cry any more.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, straightening. ‘I’ve had to be strong for Joss and it just built up inside me. I’ve always tried to be strong for her. I feel a bit better now, thank you.’ She leant forward and threw her tissue in the wastepaper basket.

  ‘Would you like a drink now? I can make a tea or coffee?’

  ‘No, thanks. You’ve been so kind. I’d better get back. Eric will be wondering where I am. Is it all right if I come round later this afternoon to see how Joss is?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Whenever you like. I’ll be here.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ll phone before I set off.’

  ‘Did the doctor examine Joss?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes. She also bagged up all of Joss’s clothes to take away for examination. Thanks for sending a change of clothes. I wouldn’t have thought of that.’

  ‘Jill told me, or I wouldn’t have known.’

  ‘She’s good, your Jill,’ Linda said, and then she stood, ready to leave.

  It was nearly 5 a.m. I saw Linda out and closed and locked the front door. I switched off all the downstairs lights and went upstairs to bed for what was left of the night. Despite the turmoil of my thoughts, I was so tired I fell asleep quickly. When I woke my bedside clock showed 9 a.m. I didn’t feel refreshed, but at least I’d had some sleep, which would hopefully see me through the day. I could hear water running in the bathroom as Adrian showered, getting ready to go out with his father. Paula was being brought home by her friend’s parents at ten to join them, and Lucy would be returning a little later.

  I hauled myself out of bed, put on my dressing gown and went round the landing to Joss’s room. I quietly opened the door and looked in. She was on her side and fast asleep, so I came out again. I went downstairs, fed Toscha and made a cup of coffee, which I drank while leaning against the work surface in the kitchen and gazing out of the window. The sky was grey and overcast, suggesting rain wasn’t far away, but the birds were busy at the bird feeder, which was always nice to watch. The bright golden marigolds and red geraniums were still flowering well, but I noticed the grass needed cutting – a job Adrian and I shared. Presently, I heard him cross the landing and go into his bedroom, having finished in the bathroom. I drained the last of my coffee, put the mug in the sink and went upstairs to bathe and dress.