Another Forgotten Child (33 page)

‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘That was nice.’

‘You’re welcome,’ I said. ‘Do you want another coffee or anything else?’ She looked warmer now and had some colour in her cheeks.

‘No thanks. I’ve got to go to the therapist soon.’

While I felt sorry for Susan, and it was now clear she meant me no harm, I was also mindful of the anguish and upset she’d caused my family, as she had done the carers of her older children.

‘When Aimee goes to Jason I hope you won’t make things up to upset them,’ I said, looking her straight in the eyes.

‘I don’t make things up!’ she said defensively.

‘You did with me. You were always complaining about the way I looked after Aimee, or rather didn’t look after her, and all that stuff about my son and his friends kissing her. You must have known that wasn’t true.’

‘Yeah, well, I was angry,’ she said, looking very slightly guilty. ‘I wanted to get at you. You did such a good job looking after Aimee it seemed to show up what a crap parent I’d been. It was like rubbing my nose in it. Every time I saw Aimee at contact she would come in and tell me about her nice bedroom and all the things you did for her. Then when she started telling you she’d been abused by my friends I was angry and wanted to get back at you.’

‘But I didn’t make things up,’ I said. ‘I was just doing my job and reporting the abuse Aimee had disclosed to me. I believe she’s telling the truth – some of your friends did abuse her.’

Susan looked away. ‘I know,’ she said, her voice dropping. ‘I tried to protect her as much as I could, and if I found anyone touching her I went for them. But most of the time I hadn’t got a clue what was going on. I was completely off my head with drugs. That’s the trouble with drugs – they put you in cuckoo land. I couldn’t protect Aimee or myself. She saw things no kid should see. I know that. Like I said, they should have taken her off me when she was born. It would have been kinder. It’s too late for me but I hope Aimee can be saved.’

I looked at Susan’s downcast face, ravaged by years of drug abuse and old beyond her years, and my heart went out to her. ‘It’s never too late to change,’ I said. ‘Aimee will be fine with Jason and you can change too.’

‘Yeah,’ Susan said dismissively. And I could see from her expression she knew otherwise. ‘Anyway, I need to go and see me therapist now,’ she said, scraping back her chair. ‘Thanks for breakfast, and for listening. Oh yeah, and thanks for looking after Aimee.’

I smiled weakly. ‘There’s no need to thank me,’ I said. ‘She’s a nice kid. She’ll be fine. If I don’t see you again, good luck, and look after yourself.’

‘I’ll try,’ she said without conviction.

‘Susan, one last thing. Why did you tell the social services that Aimee killed the kittens when it was Craig?’

‘He told me to.’

‘And you always do what he tells you? Even when it’s wrong?’

‘I have to. He’s my supplier.’

Standing, she turned and headed towards the door, and I watched her go out into the cold again. If ever anyone needed a fresh start and looking after it was that poor woman.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Peter Rabbit

Two weeks later Aimee stood at the window in the front room, looking out. ‘Is it eleven thirty yet?’ she asked, for the umpteenth time that morning.

‘Nearly. They’ll be here soon,’ I replied. ‘Any time now.’

‘I wish they’d hurry up. I’ve been waiting for ages!’

I smiled. Aimee was watching out for the first sign of Jason and his family. It was Wednesday and she’d been allowed time off school to meet and get to know her forever family.

Jason and his wife’s application to look after Aimee had been approved, and the day before I’d attended a permanency planning meeting, where I’d met Jason and Jenny for the first time. I’d immediately taken to them: they were a warm, open couple in their late twenties, easy to talk to and sincere in their commitment to Aimee. Jason and Jenny had met while at university and had been married for five years. The permanency planning meeting had run smoothly, unlike the last one. All those present – Norman, Stacey, Jason, Jenny and me – agreed that the sooner Aimee could be settled with Jason and Jenny, and therefore able to get on with her life, the better it would be for her. Stacey had drawn up a timetable for the introduction, which involved Aimee seeing Jason and Jenny nearly every day for two weeks, and culminated in her moving in. Two weeks may not seem long for a child to bond with his or her new parents but I knew from experience it was long enough; any longer and the child feels in limbo and dispossessed. I’d returned home from the meeting with an album of photographs from Jason and Jenny, which showed them and their three-year-old daughter, Emily, in their home and garden. Aimee and I had looked at the album many times during the evening so that Aimee could familiarize herself with her new family before they met. Now she was excitedly looking forward to their arrival.

‘Cathy, there’s a car pulling up,’ Aimee cried a minute later. ‘Come and see. I think it’s them.’

I joined Aimee at the window and looked at the car Aimee pointed to. Then I saw the profile of Jenny sitting in the passenger seat and a small child in the rear. ‘Yes, that’s them,’ I said. ‘Come on, let’s go and welcome them.’

I began across the room but Aimee held back, her previous excitement now replaced by nervous apprehension as the moment of their meeting finally arrived. ‘Come on,’ I encouraged, returning to offer her my hand. ‘Jason and Jenny will be as nervous as you are, if not more so. You don’t have to say anything unless you want to.’

Aimee gave a small shy smile and slipped her hand into mine. I gave it a reassuring squeeze. ‘Good girl.’

We went to the front door but as I opened it Aimee held back again. ‘I’ll wait here,’ she said.

‘OK, love. Whatever you feel comfortable with.’

I went down the front path and out on to the pavement. ‘Hello. Good to see you again,’ I said, going to greet them.

Jenny was reaching into the rear of the car to release her daughter’s seatbelt. She straightened and gave me a hug while Jason came round from the driver’s side and, smiling warmly, shook my hand. ‘Good to see you, Cathy.’ Jason had Susan’s nose but that was where any similarity ended.

‘Hello, love,’ I said to Emily as she scrambled out of the car and stood next to her mother on the pavement. ‘You must be Emily. I’m Cathy. How are you?’

‘I’m very well, thank you,’ she said sweetly. She was an engaging child who had her mother’s thick brown hair and petite features.

I could see Jenny and Jason looking past me and into the house for any sign of Aimee – the reason they were here. ‘Aimee’s gone a little shy,’ I said. ‘It’s understandable. It’s a big day for her.’

‘Oh, yes, absolutely,’ Jenny said. ‘We’ll just stay for the hour, as arranged, and then see her again tomorrow when you come to us.’ As foster carers they knew the importance of keeping to the timetable of introduction, which was carefully designed to allow the child to get to know and bond with his or her new family without feeling overwhelmed. Emily would also need time to adjust to having a new sister, and Jenny and Jason had been preparing her for the changes just as I had been preparing Aimee.

I led the way down the front path and into the hall, where Adrian appeared from upstairs and on his way out. ‘This is my son, Adrian,’ I said, introducing him to Jason and Jenny. ‘He’s home from university for Easter and is about to go out.’ They shook hands.

‘Where’s Aimee?’ I asked Adrian before he left, for she was nowhere to be seen.

‘Hiding in the sitting room,’ Adrian said. ‘She wants you all to go and find her. I think she’s playing hide and seek. See you later. Nice to meet you,’ he called to Jenny and Jason as he let himself out.

‘And you,’ they returned.

With a knowing smile at Jason and Jenny I led the way down the hall, and as we entered the sitting room I said in a voice loud enough for Aimee to hear: ‘I wonder where Aimee can be? I hope we can find her soon. I know how much you are looking forward to meeting her.’

‘I hope so too,’ Jason said, joining in the game.

‘And Emily’s looking forward to playing with Aimee,’ Jenny added.

The mention of Emily wanting to play was enough for Aimee to lose her reservations and spring out from her hiding place behind the armchair. ‘Here I am!’ she cried.

‘Great!’ I said.

‘Hello, good to meet you,’ Jenny said easily. ‘I’m Jenny and this is Emily.’

‘Hello,’ Emily said, and Aimee smiled at her.

‘And I’m Jason,’ Jason said, smiling. ‘Good to meet you, Aimee.’

Aimee looked at them from across the room, surveying them up and down, and I thought what a poignant moment it was as she met her forever family for the first time. Jason and Jenny knew better than to rush over and smother Aimee in hugs and kisses, which I could tell from their expressions they’d have liked to. They knew from their foster care training and also probably from good sense that Aimee would need time to adjust, and that they had to let her come to them when she was ready.

‘Coffee?’ I asked.

‘Yes please,’ Jason and Jenny said gratefully.

‘What about Emily? Would you like a drink?’

Emily nodded.

‘Water, please,’ Jenny said.

‘Can we play now?’ Emily asked Aimee.

‘Yes,’ Aimee said. ‘Here are some of my toys. I got them ready for you.’ Aimee took Emily’s hand and led her the few steps to the boxes of toys we’d brought into the sitting room that morning. The girls squatted on the floor and began playing while Jason and Jenny settled on the sofa.

‘Lucy and Paula are at work and school,’ I said in case they wondered where they were.

‘And you’ve got the day off from school to meet us.’ Jenny said to Aimee. She nodded.

I went into the kitchen to make the drinks and arrange some savoury snacks on a plate. From the kitchen I could hear Aimee talking to Emily about the toys they were playing with and asking her what she liked to play. Then, a minute later, I heard Aimee ask her: ‘Have Jason and Jenny always been your mummy and daddy?’ Although I’d talked a lot to Aimee about Jason, Jenny and Emily it must have been confusing for her.

Clearly Emily, aged three, must have found Aimee’s question equally confusing and didn’t know what to say. There was a small silence and then Jenny replied, ‘Yes. Emily is our daughter and soon you will be our daughter too.’ Her comment was just right: it would reassure Aimee and make her feel included. Then Jenny added, ‘We are also foster parents, like Cathy, but we won’t be fostering for a while. So it will just be you, Emily, Jason and me.’ For it had been agreed at the planning meeting that Jason and Jenny should wait at least a year before fostering so they could concentrate on Aimee and Emily, which is normal practice when a child is placed permanently.

I returned from the sitting room with a tray of drinks and savouries and set it on the coffee table. I chatted with Jason and Jenny as we ate the nibbles and drank our coffee, and the girls played. I noticed Aimee was talking to and playing with Emily to the exclusion of Jenny and Jason, but that was only to be expected. Aimee would feel more confident to begin by interacting with another child, and it was important she established a good relationship with Emily – who was to be her sister – as much as it was with Jason and Jenny, her new parents.

The time flew by and as the end of the hour approached I said to Aimee, ‘Jason, Jenny and Emily will have to go soon. We’ll see them tomorrow, but is there anything you’d like to ask them before they go?’

Aimee paused from playing and shook her head.

‘Well, if you think of anything,’ Jenny said, ‘you can ask us tomorrow or you can ask Cathy to ask us.’ Which was sensitive of Jenny, who recognized that Aimee might not yet feel comfortable asking them a direct question.

Aimee continued playing and then after a moment she looked up again. ‘I’ve got a question,’ she said. ‘Will I see your rabbit tomorrow?’

‘Yes,’ Jason said, smiling. ‘Definitely. He’s called Peter. Do you know Peter Rabbit in the Beatrix Potter books?’

Aimee’s face lit up. ‘That’s one of my favourite stories,’ she said.

‘Mine too,’ Jason said. ‘I’ve still got all the books from when I was a child. I read them to Emily and I’ll read them to you too.’

Aimee beamed. ‘I like Peter Rabbit and Jemima Puddle Duck too,’ she said. Her initial reserve had gone and I was pleased she was now talking naturally and appropriately to Jason. Jason and Jenny had been made aware of Aimee’s history of abuse and as foster carers they knew the importance of practising safer caring – to keep everyone safe. While Jason would develop a loving relationship with Aimee, he would also have to make sure he didn’t put himself in a position that could be misinterpreted by Aimee; so if, for example, they went swimming Jason would change in a separate cubicle to Aimee. It was sad he would need to be on his guard but it was essential, especially in the early months when they were still getting to know and trust each other. Jenny and Jason appreciated such measures were necessary, as Aimee’s experiences were very different from their own daughter’s or those of any child from a responsible and loving family.

When Jason and Aimee had finished their discussion of Beatrix Potter books, Jenny said it was time to go. We confirmed the arrangements for the following day, when Aimee and I would visit them, and they prepared to leave.

‘It went very well,’ I said quietly to Jason and Jenny, as Aimee helped Emily on with her shoes.

‘Yes, better than I expected,’ Jenny said, and Jason agreed.

Aimee and I saw them out and waved goodbye. As we closed the front door I said to Aimee: ‘Well? What do you think?’

‘Hmmm,’ she said, and placed her fingers to her chin as though deep in thought. Then: ‘I think they are nice. Just like you!’ And she rushed into my arms and gave me the biggest hug ever.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The Visit

The following day at 11.30 a.m. I drew up outside the neat semi-detached house where Jason, Jenny and Emily lived, and which I recognized from the photographs. Aimee was peering out of her side window. ‘That’s it! Number twelve,’ she cried, also recognizing the house from the photographs, and reading the number from the gate. ‘Twelve Acorn Street.’