Читать книгу Innocent: Part 2 of 3: The True Story of Siblings Struggling to Survive - Cathy Glass, Cathy Glass - Страница 8

The review forms sent by Tess arrived – one for me as the foster carer to fill in and one for each child. Given that, at their ages, Molly and Kit couldn’t read or write, I would complete their forms for them. They were standard review forms, brightly illustrated to encourage the children to give their views on being in care. At eighteen months old, Kit was more interested in playing than the form, but Molly looked at it as I pointed to the questions and read them out. The first question asked if they knew why they were in care. Not really, only eighteen months old, I wrote on Kit’s. Molly said, ‘Because we kept going to the hospital.’ Which was interesting.

I wrote down exactly what she said but then reassured her that it wasn’t wrong to go to the hospital and she was in care to help her mummy and daddy. The next question asked what the child liked about living with their foster carer and what they didn’t like. On Kit’s form I’d written: Likes playing and going to the park, although he misses his mother. Unable to verbalize his feelings as only eighteen months old. Molly said she liked playing with the big girls (Lucy and Paula) and didn’t like not seeing her mummy. I wrote it down exactly. There were ten questions in all – some included emoji faces with various expressions, ranging from happy to sad to angry. I asked Molly to point to the ones that showed how she was feeling and I circled them. On the back of the booklets was space where the child had to sign their name and I helped Molly write her name and she looked very pleased with herself. I put the biro into Kit’s fist and helped him make a mark.

‘Mine’s better,’ Molly said.

‘Of course, you’re older,’ I smiled.

Beneath their ‘signatures’ was another space where the name of any person who had helped the child complete the form had to be entered and I wrote my name and role – foster carer. I would complete my form later when I had more time and then post them all to the reviewing officer in the envelope provided, so they arrived ahead of the review. The Independent Reviewing Officer (IRO) would run and chair the meeting.

Edith visited as planned and met Molly and Kit for the first time. She confirmed Maggie could babysit while I attended the review and that I should phone her to make the arrangements. We sat in the living room and as the children played she made notes on how the children were settling in – both from her observations and what I said. We discussed some of the issues that affected them, especially their illnesses. She read and signed my log notes and then produced a printed list of foster-carer training that was scheduled for the coming months. All foster carers are required to attend a minimum number of training sessions each year, and as an experienced carer I was expected to lead training too. So far this year I’d completed far more than the minimum, but I told Edith that while I’d fulfil my training obligations, I wouldn’t be taking on extra as I’d have to find a babysitter each time for Molly and Kit, which she noted. When I’d worked for Homefinders, an independent fostering agency, they’d provided a crèche for carers who were looking after babies and pre-school children so the carer could attend training. The local authority didn’t, and carers who foster infants sometimes struggle to meet their training requirements.

Edith concluded her visit by looking around my house and asking if there’d been any changes to my household, as she was obliged to do at each visit. All members of a fostering household are police-checked (DBS), even non-permanent members. So if, for example, Kirsty began staying at weekends, she’d have to be police-checked. It is intrusive and some might say unreasonable, but it’s to protect the looked-after child and something foster carers have to accept. Satisfied all was well, Edith said she’d see me at the review and, saying goodbye to the children, she left.

Tamara Hastings, the Guardian ad Litem, was the next professional to visit. She arrived smartly dressed in grey trousers, jacket and blouse and was of average height and build. I guessed her to be in her fifties. She had a quiet, confident manner and was clearly used to talking to children. She accepted my offer of a coffee and drank it while sitting on the floor, playing with Molly and Kit and getting to know them. As she played she also talked to me, asking how they were settling in, what they liked to do, Molly’s attitude to Kit and if they’d been ill at all. Clearly, she already had a good grasp of the issues that had brought the children into care. She said that if there was something we couldn’t discuss in front of the children she’d phone me, and she’d also give me her number and email address before she left. She said she’d seen Molly and Kit’s parents once and would be seeing them and the children again during the coming months. She then sat on the sofa to make some notes as the children played.

‘When the children were ill did you seek medical help?’ she asked after a moment.

‘No, I didn’t think it was necessary. Once they’d been sick they recovered quickly, and neither of them fitted or had difficulty breathing. Kit had a small rash on his stomach for a couple of hours, which I monitored, but it cleared up. I would seek medical help, even call an ambulance, if I thought it was necessary.’

‘I am sure you would,’ she said as she wrote. ‘I am trying to gauge the seriousness of these mysterious illnesses that both children suffer from.’ I thought the term ‘mysterious illnesses’ summed it up. ‘Aneta appears to have become very anxious about her children’s health. I am wondering if a less anxious parent might not have sought medical intervention as often as she did. Are you aware of the number of times she took them to the doctor and hospital?’

‘I know it’s a lot. I think she is anxious about them being ill and catching germs.’ I told her what Molly had said in the park about germs and having to clean their hands and the play equipment with antibacterial wipes. She nodded as she wrote. ‘But I understand the children were also taken to hospital with injuries,’ I said. ‘The last being Kit’s broken arm.’

‘Yes, that’s correct,’ she replied, but she didn’t elaborate. ‘How is his arm now? He seems to be using it without a problem.’

‘It’s far more comfortable now it’s in a splint.’ I explained what the doctor at the fracture clinic had said and gave her the date of the follow-up appointment.

‘How would you say Kit and Molly get along?’ she asked, glancing at the children as they played.

‘Fine. They seem to be very close. They were sharing a bedroom, but Tess asked me to separate them. Kit’s cot is in my room now.’

‘How did that affect them?’

‘The first night they were both unsettled and upset, but they’ve accepted the new arrangements now.’

‘They share a bedroom at home,’ Tamara said flatly.

‘Yes, I know, which is why it seemed strange that I had to separate them here, although it’s not a problem.’

‘Aneta has a baby monitor in the children’s bedroom at home,’ Tamara said, ‘so she can hear if Molly gets out of bed. She checks on them regularly and goes into their room if she hears anything suspicious.’

‘I could have put a monitor in their room here,’ I said. ‘Then they could have stayed together.’

‘Aneta didn’t want that. She was concerned you wouldn’t answer their calls or keep checking on them as she does, and that Molly would hurt Kit again.’

‘Of course I would have checked on them,’ I said, a little affronted. ‘I am constantly checking on them, day and night.’

‘I am sure you are, but it’s appropriate for the social services to take into account the parents’ wishes. It might be that the children are returned home. You’re aware of the care plan?’

‘Yes. Long-term foster care as far as I know.’

‘That’s correct, if the judge decides they can’t return home, but we’re a long way from that yet.’ She made another note. From her remarks I assumed she had doubts as to whether the children would remain in care. The Guardian’s recommendation to the judge on what is best for the children is based on their assessment. While the judge isn’t bound to accept the Guardian’s recommendations, they nearly always do, even if it goes against the social services’ care plan.

Tamara asked about the children’s routines, their likes and dislikes, if they were anxious and what they said about life at home. As we talked she kept glancing at the children, observing them as they played. She was with me nearly two hours, and although I didn’t learn anything knew – that wasn’t her role – she thanked me, said it had been helpful and she had a better understanding of the children, and added that she would see me at the review on Thursday.

I had told Tamara the children were close and appeared to get along well and I’d seen no incidents of Molly being unkind to Kit that could have resulted in him being injured. At that point, it was true. However, a day later when the children had been with us for three weeks and were perhaps more assured and relaxed in their surroundings, Molly started bullying Kit. It began with her snatching his toys, so whatever he picked up to play with she took from him, sometimes quite forcibly. That much younger and smaller, he didn’t protest or try to take it back as an older child might. His little face crumpled and sometimes he cried. I told Molly it was unkind to snatch and kind to share. I gave the toy back to Kit and found her something else to play with. But as soon as I moved away or turned my back, she had snatched it back from him. I told her again it was not kind to snatch and returned the toy to Kit. This could be repeated a number of times and often Kit eventually gave her the toy, so I took it from her and put it away. I didn’t want her thinking she could get her own way by bullying. Adrian, Paula and Lucy witnessed her behaviour too – she didn’t hide it – and they approached it as I did by telling Molly it was kind to share and returning the toy to Kit.

Many siblings go through a phase of bullying and, thinking it might help, I emailed Tess and asked again if Molly and Kit could have some of their own toys from home. Tess replied that she had asked Aneta and Filip before and would do so again.

As well as taking Kit’s toys, Molly began trying to scare him by jumping out and making a loud noise. He looked frightened and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I told her not to and that she wouldn’t like it if someone frightened her. If Kit fell asleep in his car seat, she screamed in his ear. He woke with such a start he was close to tears. I told her off and then moved her car seat so she wasn’t next to him. She wasn’t pleased, but she’d learn in the end. If Kit had a sleep during the day, which he did sometimes, I put him in his cot and then had to make sure Molly didn’t creep upstairs and wake him. Going to nursery and socializing with other children helps teach children how to behave and what is acceptable. Molly and Kit appeared to have led isolated lives, and as far as Molly was concerned (that much older and bigger) she was top dog. Her behaviour towards Kit could have stemmed from jealousy or been just a phase she was going through, so while I always corrected it I wasn’t unduly worried.

However, I then saw Molly intentionally push Kit over with a hefty shove. He didn’t cry but was scared. I told her off and explained that she could have badly hurt him. Children of her age don’t appreciate what harm they can do, which is why the age of criminal responsibility is set at ten – higher in some countries. Was she capable of pushing Kit downstairs, resulting in him breaking his arm as Aneta had claimed? Yes, I now thought she was, for she wouldn’t know how dangerous it could be. I noted all this in my log and would update Tess.

I telephoned Maggie to arrange the time she should come to babysit for the review and she said she’d be bringing Keelie again.

‘That’s fine,’ I said. ‘Molly and Kit loved playing with her.’

‘And she did them,’ Maggie replied. ‘She’s a big kid herself, bless her. But I do need to find a school who can manage her behaviour.’

‘I thought the last time I saw you she was returning to her present school?’

‘She did for a day, but it didn’t quite live up to expectations,’ Maggie said dryly.

I had to smile although I sympathized with her. I’d fostered young people who’d been repeatedly excluded from school, and the longer they were out of full-time education, the more difficult it became to get them back into the school routine.

On Thursday morning I told Molly and Kit that Maggie and Keelie would be coming to look after them again for a little while that afternoon. Molly was pleased. ‘I like that big girl,’ she said happily. ‘She is fun.’

‘Yes, so you can all play nicely together,’ I said. ‘No pushing Kit or making him cry.’ I’d mentioned the issues we were having with Molly to Maggie on the phone, so she’d keep an eye on them. I’d also said I’d leave the food diary out and asked that she or Keelie add anything the children had to eat or drink. She was slightly surprised the hospital weren’t running more tests, as was I.

We had lunch and then I took the children with me upstairs so I could watch them while I changed into something smart for the review. I only let them out of my sight if Paula, Lucy or Adrian were with them or they were asleep. When the doorbell rang at 1.30 p.m. they both came with me to answer it. Molly was excited, nearly as much as Keelie!

‘Hi, babies!’ she cried. ‘Look what I’ve brought!’ She held up two carrier bags filled to bursting. ‘Toys! For us to play with!’

‘Wonderful,’ I enthused. ‘I’m still waiting for some of Molly’s and Kit’s to come from home.’

‘Keelie spends most of her allowance on children’s toys,’ Maggie said, rolling her eyes indulgently. ‘She didn’t have any as a child, but she’s made up for it since.’ Which I found really touching.

‘Good for you,’ I said to Keelie. ‘We all like toys.’

‘Just make sure you share them with the children,’ Maggie said as we went through to the living room. For a moment I thought she was serious, then Keelie laughed.

‘Like I’m going to bring my toys and not let them play with them. Doh!’

Keelie sat on the floor with Molly and Kit and began taking out the toys. Many of them were pre-school, brightly coloured and still in their original boxes. Puzzles, cars, miniature play people and dolls. They were clearly treasured. It said a lot about Keelie’s neglected childhood that at thirteen she spent most of her pocket money on toys. Molly and Kit were enthralled.

‘Have you thought about a career working with children?’ I asked Keelie. ‘I am sure you’d be very good at it.’

‘So am I,’ Maggie agreed. ‘But she’ll need to get some qualifications first, and that relies on her staying in school for longer than a day.’

But it fell on deaf ears. Keelie was too engrossed in playing to think about going to school.