The Child Bride (18 page)

‘Was this recent?’ Richard now asked Zeena.

I glanced at Zeena, who clearly didn’t know what to say, perhaps feeling she might get into trouble, so I updated Richard. ‘Zeena went to their school on Monday and Tuesday of this week,’ I said. ‘But she only saw them for a few minutes.’

‘Were either of your parents at the school?’ Richard asked Zeena.

‘My mother,’ Zeena said.

‘And how did that meeting go?’ he asked her.

Zeena shrugged and looked uncomfortable again, so I stepped in. ‘From what Zeena tells me, her mother was annoyed and embarrassed. Zeena thinks that if she keeps going to the school, eventually her mother will agree to let her see her brothers and sisters, but I’m not so sure and I have concerns for her safety.’

‘So do I,’ Richard said as he wrote. Then he looked at Zeena. ‘At your age we can’t stop you going to your brothers and sisters’ school, but it would be better if you waited for Tara to arrange contact.’

Zeena gave a small, half-hearted nod, more polite than agreeing with what he’d said, and I think all the adults present knew she wouldn’t be heeding his warning.

‘I understand there were safeguarding concerns around Zeena’s siblings?’ Richard now asked Tara.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but these have largely gone now that we understand Zeena’s abuser was most likely an adult boyfriend – from outside of the family.’

Zeena took a breath as though she was about to say something but stopped.

‘Is there something you’d like to add?’ Richard encouraged her.

Zeena thought for a moment and then shook her head.

‘Are you sure?’ Richard asked. Zeena nodded. ‘If you do think of something you want to say then interrupt,’ he said. ‘This review is about you.’

Zeena nodded again.

Tara then took a printed sheet of paper from the pile in front of her and began reading out the report from Zeena’s school, which had been written by the deputy, Miss Birkin. She said Zeena was a pleasant and intelligent student who worked hard and was expected to obtain at least eight GCSE passes, grades A and B, the following year. Zeena was described as a quiet, thoughtful student who needed encouragement to join in class discussion. It said she didn’t participate in after-school activities or go on school trips because her parents wouldn’t give consent. The report from Miss Birkin also said that Zeena had a few close friends, but she didn’t travel home with them on the bus because her father usually collected her from school, although this had stopped once Zeena had gone into care. It ended by saying that all Zeena’s subject teachers considered her an excellent student and a pleasure to teach.

‘Well done,’ Richard said to Zeena as Tara finished. ‘You’re doing very well at school. What do you want to do after you’ve taken your GCSE exams next year?’

‘I’d like to study for A-levels,’ Zeena said. ‘But I don’t know if that will be possible.’

‘I’m sure it will be. You’re very bright,’ Richard said.

He then began winding up the review by asking if any of us had anything else we wanted to say. I said, ‘My family and I are very happy to have Zeena living with us. She’s a lovely person.’ I always like to add a little personal comment at the end of a child’s review. Richard thanked me and then set the date for the next review, which I noted in my diary. Before he closed the meeting he reassured Zeena that Tara would be doing her best to set up some contact so she could see her siblings.

‘Thank you,’ Zeena said quietly.

Once he’d closed the meeting Zeena and I stood, said goodbye and left the room first. As we made our way downstairs I said to Zeena, ‘You did very well. It’s a bit of an ordeal, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘I could feel my heart thumping when I had to speak.’

‘I know what you mean,’ I said. ‘But you were fine. Now, you heard what Richard said about seeing your brothers and sisters, so please, no more going to their school. I’d like you to wait until Tara sets up contact.’

‘But I have to make sure they’re all right,’ she said.

There was nothing else I could do but hope she stayed safe.

The following day, Thursday, I saw Zeena off to school, and as usual she looked back and gave a little wave before she disappeared around the bend in the road. She texted to say she was on the bus and then again when she arrived at school.

Later that morning Serena – the carer I was mentoring – telephoned. I was pleased to hear from her. She said she was making good progress with Billy’s behaviour, but sadly he’d disclosed shocking abuse and the police were now involved. While I was very sorry to hear this, Serena and I agreed that it was a positive sign that Billy trusted Serena and her partner enough to confide in them. She was doing all she could to support Billy and she and her partner also felt more confident in dealing with his challenging behaviour. We talked for nearly an hour, discussing the strategies that had worked with Billy. I offered to visit her again, but she said she felt they were doing all right and that she’d telephone if she needed to. After we’d said goodbye I spent some moments reflecting on little Billy who’d gone through so much. Even though I’d never met him, hearing that a child had suffered stayed in my thoughts and made me sad.

At 3.15, a little before school ended for Zeena, I received a text message from her:
Srry Cathy. Didn’t c little ones yesterday. Must c them 2day 2 make sure they’re OK. Don’t worry. I’ll come straight home after. Zeena xx.

I wasn’t wholly surprised, but I felt the nature of Zeena’s visits to see her siblings had changed slightly, from simply missing them to making sure they were safe. Zeena had seen them on Monday and Tuesday, but not Wednesday (because of her review), so she felt she needed to see them today to make sure they were all right. I understood from what she’d told me that she’d brought up her little brothers and sisters and had been like a mother to them. I knew how I worried and fretted over all my children, including those I fostered. It’s natural to want to protect your children and make sure they’re safe. I just wished there was a way she could see them without going to their school, as it antagonized her mother. But without her parents’ co-operation it would be very difficult. However, I knew that Tara was doing all she could to set up contact; good social work practice recognizes the importance of maintaining sibling bonds.

It might have been a sixth sense developed from years of fostering, but I knew that if Zeena kept going to the school it was going to end in tears. It just happened sooner and more worryingly than I’d expected. At 3.40 that afternoon, when Zeena should have been coming home on the bus after seeing her siblings, my mobile rang. I picked it up and saw Zeena’s number in the caller display.

‘Are you all right?’ I asked as I answered.

She wasn’t. ‘Oh Cathy,’ she sobbed. ‘I’m so sorry. You were right. Can you come and collect me?’

‘What’s happened?’ I asked. ‘Where are you? I’ll call the police.’

‘No. Don’t do that,’ she pleaded. ‘I’m all right now, they’ve gone. But I don’t want to wait at the bus stop in case they come back. Please come and get me, I’m sorry.’

‘All right, calm down. Where are you?’

‘I’m walking towards Simson Avenue. I’ll wait in a shop doorway where there are people.’

‘I think I should call the police,’ I said.

‘No, don’t, please,’ she begged, desperate. ‘Don’t. It’ll make it worse. Just come and get me, please. Please do as I say, Cathy.’

‘All right. I’ll be about ten minutes. But dial 999 for the police if they come back.’

‘I will,’ she promised.

I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. Rightly or wrongly I was doing what Zeena had asked, and I focused solely on getting to her as quickly as possible. I knew Simson Avenue; it was close to where her parents lived and where her siblings went to school. It was a long road with houses, offices and a parade of shops and a community centre about halfway down. It was reasonably busy, so Zeena should be safe there until I arrived.

All manner of thoughts flashed through my mind as I navigated the traffic. As a foster carer I’d had to collect distraught teenagers before, usually in the evening when they were drunk, lost or had had an argument with their boyfriend. If it was very late at night, as a single female carer I had no hesitation in phoning the police, whom I’d always found to be very helpful in returning teenagers, often giving them a good talking to in the police car on the way home. But this was different; it was the middle of the afternoon and Zeena was in a public place. Also, I believed Zeena when she’d said that dialling 999 for the police could make her situation worse.

As I pulled into the top of Simson Avenue I felt my heart start to race and my senses go on full alert. I drove more slowly, scanning the pavements for any sign of Zeena, but it wasn’t until I came to the parade of shops that I saw her standing outside the small supermarket. I pulled over and tooted the horn. She saw me and ran across the pavement as I flung open the passenger door. She jumped in and slammed the door shut, and I pressed the internal locking system.

‘Whatever happened?’ I asked. She looked dreadful. Her eyes were wide with fear and she was trembling.

‘They said they were going to set me on fire,’ she said, breaking down and sobbing. ‘They had petrol and a lighter. I thought I was going to die.’

I stared at her, horrified. She was wringing her hands in her lap. ‘Who?’ A car behind me honked its horn; I was blocking the parking bay. ‘Who was it?’ I asked as I pulled away.

‘My father and uncle,’ she said, with another sob. ‘I really thought they were going to set me alight. I was so scared.’

‘You’re safe now,’ I said, glancing at her. ‘But we’re going to tell Norma as soon as we get home. What’s happened is shocking and they’ve already been warned to stay away from you and not threaten you.’

I thought she might object to telling Norma, but she didn’t. She was too scared. ‘I know, I’ll tell her,’ she said. ‘But I didn’t want you dialling 999. The ordinary police won’t know what to do. Norma understands. I trust her.’

‘Do you want to call her now?’ I asked as I drove. ‘I think she should know as soon as possible.

‘Yes,’ Zeena said. ‘I will.’

Her hands trembled as she took her mobile from her school bag, scrolled down the list of contacts and pressed for Norma’s number. It was on speakerphone, so I could hear their conversation. Norma must have seen the call was from Zeena for she answered straight away with, ‘Hello Zeena.’

‘They came for me,’ Zeena said, sobbing. ‘My father and uncle. They grabbed me and bundled me into the car. I thought they were …’

‘Where are you now?’ Norma interrupted.

‘In Cathy’s car,’ Zeena sobbed. ‘She came to fetch me.’

I was half expecting Norma to reprimand me as she had done when I’d collected Zeena from school when her father and uncle had been outside, but Norma said, ‘So you’re safe now?’

‘Yes,’ Zeena said, stifling another sob. ‘I am now. They said they’d set me on fire if I kept making trouble. I thought they were going to kill me.’

‘I need to see you and take a statement,’ Norma said. ‘I’d like to come this evening while the details are still fresh in your mind. Are you going straight home?’

‘Yes,’ Zeena said, her voice catching.

‘Tell Cathy I hope to be there before eight o’clock.’

‘I will,’ she said. Then, ending the call, she said to me, ‘You heard?’

I nodded.

She was sitting hunched forward, tensed, and with her hands gripped tightly around the phone in her lap.

‘Try not to worry,’ I said, touching her arm as I drove. ‘You’ve had a deeply upsetting experience but you’re safe now. Norma will know what to do for the best. It can’t be allowed to happen again.’

‘I know,’ she said quietly.

As I drove her breathing began to settle and her sobbing eased.

‘Where did all this happen?’ I asked, once she was calmer.

‘Around the corner from their school,’ she said. ‘I got off the bus and cut through the alleyway to get there quickly. It’s what I’ve done each time I’ve gone. They must have known and been waiting. My uncle grabbed me from behind and then dragged me off the alley and into the back of my father’s car. They locked the doors and then my uncle got out a bottle of lighter fuel and took off the top. He said if I didn’t stop causing trouble they’d set me on fire and I’d burn in hell or be scarred for life.’

‘And all because you’ve been going to see your brothers and sisters at school?’ I asked incredulously.

‘Yes, and because of other things,’ she said, her voice so quiet it was almost inaudible.

I glanced at her. ‘What other things?’

There was a long silence before Zeena said, ‘I’m sorry, Cathy, I can’t tell you.’

My heart was still thumping loudly from adrenalin as I pulled into the driveway at home. Although Zeena had stopped crying and trembling I was still struggling with the notion that a father and uncle could threaten a young girl, and in such a horrific manner – saying they would set her alight!

‘I suppose it was just a threat,’ Zeena said as I cut the engine, clearly trying to minimize what had happened.

‘A really sadistic threat,’ I said. ‘It’s illegal to threaten people, especially children. It’s shocking. They have to be punished.’ For now that the immediate danger had passed, I could see that Zeena might simply want to forget it, and not give Norma the information she needed to prosecute, as had happened before.

‘And you can’t be certain it was just a threat,’ I added as we got out of the car. ‘They had lighter fuel.

‘I know,’ she said, grimacing at the recollection. ‘But what do you think Norma will do if I make a statement?’

‘Prosecute them, I hope. But Norma will explain it all when she sees you. You said yourself that you trusted her to do the right thing.’

I opened the front door and once inside I gave her a hug to reassure her, and me. Paula was home and in her bedroom. I called up a hello and then went through to the kitchen where I poured two glasses of water. Zeena took hers upstairs and I heard her knock on Paula’s bedroom door and then go in. I switched on the radio in the kitchen to distract my thoughts and began to make dinner. We still had to eat whatever was happening. Lucy arrived home from work shortly after 5.30, closely followed by Adrian who’d worked an earlier shift. At six o’clock I called everyone to dinner. When Zeena and Paula came to the table it was clear from their conversation that Zeena had told Paula what had happened. Hearing their comments Lucy and Adrian looked at Zeena quizzically, and she then shared what had happened with them too.