Читать книгу Nobody’s Son: Part 3 of 3: All Alex ever wanted was a family of his own - Cathy Glass, Cathy Glass - Страница 6

Debbie continued her report to the LAC review by confirming the changes in the care plan for Alex – that the permanency team were looking for a long-term foster family for him. She said that as they couldn’t find a suitable family locally they were widening their search (through independent fostering agencies) to other parts of the country. This is not unusual and some children in care end up living hundreds of miles from their place of origin because there isn’t a suitable carer nearer. None of us commented. The priority was to find Alex the right family, but I’m sure we all thought that a move out of the area would mean more disruption for him – leaving all that was familiar, including his school. And supposing that placement didn’t work out? It happens.

Lorraine nodded sombrely, noted what Debbie had said and then referred to her checklist to see what else she needed to include in the review.

‘Has Alex had any serious illnesses or accidents since his last review?’ she asked. Debbie confirmed he hadn’t and that his health checks were up to date.

‘Friends and family?’ Lorraine now asked. ‘Contact with his mother was stopped in preparation for the adoption. Does Alex have friends at school?’

‘Yes,’ Debbie said. ‘But I’m not sure he sees them out of school.’

‘I’ve asked Alex if he would like to invite a friend here,’ I said. ‘But he doesn’t want to at present. I’ll ask him again.’

‘Thank you,’ Lorraine said, and made a note. All the points raised would be revisited at the next review to see what progress had been made.

‘Any complaints from anyone?’ Lorraine now asked. It was a question the IRO was obliged to ask at the review.

‘No,’ Debbie confirmed.

‘No,’ Jill and I said.

Satisfied that she’d covered everything on her checklist, Lorraine now asked Jill if she would like to add anything to the review.

‘As Cathy’s support social worker I visit her at least every month and we speak on the phone in between when necessary. I didn’t see Alex when he was here before on the bridging placement, but I have seen him since. I think Cathy has given an accurate account of how he is at present. He’s upset and obviously has a lot to come to terms with. Cathy provides a high level of care for Alex and I know she will ask for help if she needs it.’

‘Thank you,’ Lorraine said. She then set a date and time for the next review – in three months. Although Alex might not be with me by then, possibly having moved to his long-term carer, I noted the date in my diary just in case.

‘I’ll go and see Alex now,’ Lorraine said. She tucked her notepad and pen into her bag and stood.

‘Would you like us all to come?’ Debbie asked, putting away her pad and pen.

‘No. I think it could be a bit overwhelming for Alex, as he’s feeling wobbly.’ This was sensitive of her. Most children in care take part in reviews far bigger than this one, with all the attention focused on them. They do incredibly well to cope with it.

‘That’s a lovely picture, Alex,’ we heard Lorraine say as she went in. ‘Can you tell me about it?’ There was no reply. ‘Do you like art at school?’ she asked. ‘Is that one of your favourite subjects?’ If Alex replied, it was too quiet for us to hear. ‘Do you remember who I am?’ Lorraine then tried, ‘We’ve met a few times before at your previous reviews.’ Nothing.

There was silence and then Paula ran into the living room, looking concerned, and jumped onto my lap. ‘There’s a strange lady in there talking to Alex,’ she said. Jill and Debbie laughed.

‘I know, love,’ I said. ‘It’s OK. Alex knows her.’

We heard Lorraine compliment both boys on their artwork and then she returned to the living room. ‘Alex doesn’t want to talk to me today,’ she said easily. She picked up her bag and Debbie and Jill stood.

The three of them went into the kitchen to say goodbye to Alex and Adrian, and then Paula and I saw them to the front door, where I helped them into their coats. Once they’d gone, we returned to Adrian and Alex. ‘You’ve all done well,’ I said. They’d been amusing themselves for over an hour. ‘Thank you for your cooperation. I was thinking we might go out for lunch and then to the cinema this afternoon. There’s the new Walt Disney film showing.’

‘Yes!’ Adrian cried. ‘Chicken nuggets and chips for me!’ Going to a fast-food restaurant was a treat for my children, as we didn’t go that often.

‘Chicken nuggets and chips for me,’ Paula agreed.

While Alex managed a small, indifferent nod.

I’d suggested this outing as being seated in a restaurant and then the cinema offered less opportunity for Alex to run away. It was a pity I had to think this way, but I needed to be practical.

It was the end of the half-term holiday, so families were making the most of the last day and the restaurant and cinema were busy. Alex was quiet as usual, looking around and taking it in but not saying much, while Adrian and Paula chatted excitedly as they ate, and also after the film. I think Alex liked the film as much as he liked anything at present, but as soon as we were home he went straight up to his room and began throwing things in anger.

‘Not again,’ Adrian sighed, and he took Paula through to the living room to look after her.

Once I’d calmed Alex down and he’d had a little cry, I asked him why he’d suddenly become angry after a nice day out. I was puzzled as well as concerned.

‘All the other kids in McDonald’s and the cinema were with their families,’ he said gloomily. ‘But I was with a foster carer. I should have been with my family.’

‘And that’s why you’re upset?’

He nodded and I wiped his eyes.

I knew that Rosemary and Edward had promised Alex lots of outings over the half-term holiday, but his upset wasn’t about missing those activities as missing the family he’d been promised. I comforted him as best I could and said that when we missed something we often noticed it more in others and it seemed that their lives were better than ours. I couldn’t offer any reassurance about being with a foster carer because when Alex left it would be to go to another foster carer, albeit a long-term one. Having foster parents rather than a mum and dad is something many children in permanent care have to come to terms with, and often after a while they think of their foster family as their own family and call their carers Mum and Dad. Thankfully, as before, once Alex’s anger was spent he let me give him a hug.

The following week was shaky at school and at home for Alex. Miss Cork saw me with a brief update either before or after school on most days. She was very kind and caring, but acknowledged that the half-term break had done little to improve Alex’s behaviour, and he remained quiet and withdrawn with outbursts of anger at school – just as he was at home. She apologized for not being able to attend Alex’s review and said she’d sent Debbie a copy of Alex’s latest personal education plan. I appreciated that she and the other staff were making allowances for Alex’s behaviour (as we were at home), but if he didn’t do his work in class then he finished it at home.

Halfway through the week Alex started bedwetting – a sure sign of stress. I reassured him that it didn’t matter, quietly changed his sheets and tried again to talk to him about his worries, but all I got in return was a resigned shrug. Aware that on top of all his feelings of rejection and being unloved and unwanted he was probably also feeling very insecure, I told him that he wouldn’t have to move from me until Debbie was sure she’d found him the right family. But to be honest my words sounded feeble even to me, for how many times had something similar been said to him before? He shrugged, unconvinced.

On Thursday morning Jill telephoned to see how Alex was and also to advise me that Debbie had arranged the adoption disruption meeting for the following Tuesday at 11 a.m. I had been invited and Jill would be going too. ‘You’ll need to prepare yourself for meeting Rosemary again,’ she said. ‘And possibly Edward, if he can get the time off work.’

‘They’re going?’ I asked, slightly surprised.

‘Yes. Rosemary was reluctant to begin with, but Debbie explained that it wasn’t going to be a witch hunt. That the social services wanted to learn lessons from what had happened to avoid something similar happening again.’

‘All right. I’ll have to arrange childcare for Paula. She’s not at nursery on a Tuesday.’

‘Thank you. The meeting is at the council offices. Shall I see you in reception?’

‘Yes, please.’

I noted the time of the meeting in my diary and then straight away telephoned my parents, who were free that day and happy to come over and look after Paula. They would stay until Adrian and Alex came out of school so they could see them, although Mum understood that Alex might not want much to do with them.

The remainder of the week and then the weekend continued in much the same vein. Alex was very quiet or angry; there was nothing in between. I asked him again if he would like to have a friend home, but he said despondently that he didn’t have any friends. This wasn’t true, he had friends at school, but I knew from Miss Cork that he wasn’t having much to do with them at present. Alex’s unhappiness and low self-esteem was blighting all aspects of his life, and despite my efforts he didn’t seem to be improving. I kept a note of my concerns and incidents of his anger in my log so that I could update Debbie (and Jill), and I hoped it might help bring Alex’s referral to CAMHS forward. At what point did his case become urgent?

On Sunday evening as Alex climbed into bed he suddenly asked me, ‘Was it because I wanted to learn the guitar?’

I hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.

‘Sorry, love, what do you mean? Are you going to learn the guitar at school?’

He shook his head vehemently. ‘When my dad – I mean Edward – said I should learn a musical instrument I said I wanted to learn the guitar so I could be in a boy band. He laughed and said that I needed to learn a classical instrument that would teach me the scales like James. Is that why he didn’t want me?’

‘Alex, of course not!’ I said, shocked. ‘It had nothing to do with that, and he shouldn’t have laughed.’ Despite all my assurances, Alex was still clearly going through the conversations he’d had with Rosemary and Edward, dissecting them to see if he could find out what he had done wrong. ‘It was nothing you said or did,’ I said firmly, sitting beside him on the bed.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. Positive. If you’d wanted to learn every musical instrument in the whole wide world it wouldn’t have made any difference. The reason you left was because Rosemary and Edward hadn’t thought enough about adoption and what it would mean to them and James. They should have done. It was a big mistake that they didn’t. But it was not your fault. You must understand that. Sometimes adults get it wrong, just as children do. We all make mistakes.’ I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. I was passionate in what I said – he had to believe me. I looked at him carefully. ‘But Alex, do you know what the biggest mistake of all would be?’ He shook his head. ‘If you continue to let this make you so unhappy. You need to try to let it go and look to the future. I think you could if you tried really hard. I will help you.’ Without replying, he picked up his soft-toy polar bear, climbed into bed and turned away, rejecting me.

‘Please think about what I’ve said.’ I tucked the duvet around his shoulders. ‘You need to get over this. It can’t stay with you forever.’ Although I knew that to what degree he did get over this would depend largely on what happened in his future. If the long-term carers he went to provided him with a stable, loving home and he became a permanent member of their family then there was a good chance he’d be able to leave behind the upset of his unsettled early life. But if the move to the next family didn’t work out and there was another move and possibly another one after that, then his experience with Rosemary and Edward would be compounded: another brick in a wall of unhappiness and rejection. I knew too many cases where a series of placement breakdowns (as they are called) had damaged a young person so much that they turned to drink and drugs and promiscuity in an attempt to block out the pain and convince themselves they were lovable. Hopefully that wouldn’t be Alex’s fate, but at present it was impossible to be sure, and if – heaven forbid – it was his future, then not only Alex’s mother and Rosemary and Edward, but every foster carer and social worker who had been part of Alex’s life would hold some responsibility.

The adoption disruption meeting had been playing on my mind since Jill’s telephone call, and by Monday morning it was completely dominating my thoughts – or, more specifically, seeing Rosemary and Edward was. Debbie had said that the meeting wouldn’t be a witch hunt – they weren’t looking to blame someone – but that the department wanted to learn lessons. I thought this was very magnanimous of Debbie, as I was struggling not to blame Rosemary and Edward for all the grief they had caused – and were still causing – Alex. Each time he said something about them it hit me afresh. But I knew I needed to be professional when I met them. I had to concede that it was decent of them to attend the meeting at all, and that they hadn’t set out to reject and upset Alex, but must have been convinced they were doing the right thing in applying to adopt. Furthermore, I doubted that they had any idea just how devastated he was.

I didn’t tell the children what the meeting was about, only that I had to go to a meeting and Nana and Grandpa would be looking after Paula, and they would see Adrian and Alex at the end of school. Paula and Adrian were pleased to be seeing their nana and grandpa again, while Alex just accepted the arrangement with the same resignation he accepted anything that involved him now.

Although it was March, Tuesday morning was bitterly cold with a cruel northeasterly wind, so the children and I wrapped up warm to leave the house. I drove Alex to school first and then took Adrian to school before returning home with Paula. My parents arrived in plenty of time and I made us a coffee before I changed into my black trousers, smart jersey and best coat, ready for the meeting. Saying goodbye, I left and began the drive to the council offices, my feelings of trepidation increasing. I wasn’t altogether clear what my role would be at the adoption disruption meeting, but from what Jill had said my input was likely to be minimal: to answer some questions about Alex from the present foster carer’s point of view. I hadn’t brought any notes with me and intended to play it by ear. As I drove and my apprehension increased, I reminded myself that Rosemary and Edward must be feeling significantly worse, having to face all of us again.

I parked the car in a side road close to the council offices and walked round to the front, where I met Jill on the way in.

‘Good timing,’ she quipped. ‘All ready?’

‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

We crossed to the reception desk and signed the visitor’s book. Jill asked which room we were in and we hung our one-day security passes around our necks. The room was on the second floor, next door to the one I’d been in previously for the adoption planning meeting. As we arrived outside, Jill took a deep breath. ‘Well, here goes,’ she said before knocking, which did nothing to allay my nerves. She opened the door and I followed her in. A sea of faces greeted us.

I find you can gauge the atmosphere of a meeting as soon as you enter the room. In complete contrast to the adoption planning meeting, where Jill and I had been greeted by lively conversation and four smiling faces, now there was silence and sombre expressions. A dozen or more people around a large oblong wooden table sat upright and formal. Most had paperwork in front of them. I felt my anxiety level rise. I recognized Rosemary, Edward, Lin and Debbie, but no one else. The person in front of us moved along a seat so Jill and I could sit together.

‘Thank you,’ Jill said quietly as we sat down. I slipped off my coat, hung it over the back of my chair and tried to relax.

After a moment the chairperson asked, ‘Are we expecting anyone else?’

No one appeared to know.

‘If we could introduce ourselves, I’ll tick everyone off my list,’ she said. The chairperson would be an IRO not connected with the case. She was a mature woman, confident in her role, and with a calming, conciliatory manner designed to put everyone at ease. She squared a sheet of printed paper in front of her and looked to the person on her left to start the introductions.

‘Elaine C—, team manager, fostering and adoption,’ she said.

The chairperson ticked off her name on the sheet and then looked at the next person, who was Debbie. ‘Debbie G—, social worker for Alex.’

And so it continued: ‘Lin B—, adoption social worker for Alex.’

‘Lara M—, team manager.’

‘Shanice K—, social worker from the permanence team.’

As the introductions continued the door opened and to my surprise Miss Cork walked in. ‘Sorry if I’m late,’ she said, a little flustered. ‘I was only told about the meeting this morning.’ She took one of the two remaining chairs and I threw her a reassuring smile.

‘Adele W—, social worker, looked-after children’s team,’ the next person at the table said.

I glanced at Rosemary and Edward across the vast expanse of oak table, but there was nothing to be read in their expressions and they kept their gazes down. When it was their turn to introduce themselves they said only ‘Rosemary Andrews’ and ‘Edward Andrews’ without any reference to their role as Alex’s adoptive parents. Edward and a trainee social worker who was also taking minutes were the only males present.

Next was the nurse for looked-after children, then another social worker and me. ‘Cathy Glass, Alex’s foster carer,’ I said, addressing the chairperson.

‘You were his carer before the move as well?’ she asked.

‘Yes, just for a few weeks.’

She nodded.

There were fifteen of us in all, including three team managers, the size of the meeting reflecting the importance that was being attached to what had happened to Alex.

Introductions over, the chairperson noted an apology for absence and then looked at us as she spoke. She began by thanking us for coming – she knew how busy we all were – then made a special point of thanking Rosemary and Edward. She appreciated that coming to this meeting would have been difficult for them. Edward gave a perfunctory nod, but he and Rosemary remained expressionless.

‘The purpose of this meeting’, the chairperson continued, ‘is not to apportion blame, but to see if we can identify any significant factors that led to the disruption of the placement. This information will help the department assess if its preparation, matching and support of families is adequate and also plan for Alex’s future. We shall hear from all those who had a role in Alex’s case and participants will have a chance to share information and their feelings.’ She then asked Debbie, as Alex’s social worker, to speak first. Judging from the thickness of the papers she had in front of her, I guessed she was well prepared.

‘Alex is seven now,’ she began, then stated his date and place of birth, his ethnicity and that he was the subject of a Full Care Order. ‘I took over Alex’s case nine months ago after his previous social worker left.’

‘Do we know how many social workers Alex has had?’ the chairperson asked.

‘I’m not completely sure,’ Debbie said, ‘but more than five.’

The chairperson nodded and Debbie continued by giving some background information on Alex’s mother and the reason she and Alex had come to the attention of the social services. She then summarized Alex’s time in care, some of which I already knew from the placement information. However, hearing it said out loud highlighted just how unsettled Alex’s life had been, even since coming into care. His return to me was his seventh move since he first came into care. The original care plan had been for Alex to return to his mother, which I didn’t know. But despite her enrolling on a drug rehabilitation programme, she hadn’t made the necessary changes to her lifestyle to enable Alex to be returned to her. Face-to-face contact had been stopped in preparation for the adoption and it was intended that she would have ‘letterbox contact’ only, which meant that she could send Alex a card and letter on his birthday and at Christmas, but that was all. Debbie said that generally Alex had coped well during his time in care, although he had become unsettled since returning to me, after all the recent changes. I saw Edward look up as though he might be about to say something, but he didn’t comment.