Mummy’s Little Girl: A heart-rending story of abuse, innocence and the desperate race to save a lost child. Jane Elliott

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      ‘All right,’ Alice said with a sigh of relief. ‘Last one.’ She looked at the agenda on the table in front of her. ‘One of yours, I think, Kate?’

      Kate Swinton nodded. ‘Dani Sinclair. Twelve years old. I’ve mentioned her to you once or twice before.’

      Alice smiled. ‘Sorry, Kate,’ she said. ‘Heavy caseload. You’ll have to refresh my memory.’

      Kate pulled a file out from a little pile by her side. ‘She’s only come my way in the last couple of years. Before that we had no reason to become involved. She was placed with a foster family at birth, a couple in south-west London. Two younger siblings, but neither of them fostered.’

      ‘Unusual,’ Andy butted in.

      ‘Mmm,’ Kate replied. ‘I spoke to the mother about it. They tried to conceive naturally for a long time before they fostered, and she fell pregnant soon afterwards.’

      ‘Sod’s law.’

      ‘Quite.’

      ‘Come on,’ their line manager said briskly. ‘Let’s wrap this up. What’s the problem with the child?’

      ‘Difficult to say,’ Kate told her. ‘On the surface of it, nothing – at least nothing that I can detect. She’s very quiet, and by all accounts finds it difficult to make friends. Young for her age, I’d say – not as streetwise as a lot of the kids we see nowadays. But that’s really nothing out of the ordinary – nothing that would require our intervention. It’s the mother who’s more of a worry. Her husband left the family home two years ago as a result of an affair, and he hasn’t been back since. Divorce is only just coming through now, but he’s not paying any maintenance, and the CSA being what it is …’

      Alice rolled her eyes.

      ‘Exactly,’ Kate said. ‘Anyway, unusually it was the mother who got in touch with us. Her husband leaving hit her pretty hard, I think. She told me that it was getting more and more difficult to look after the three children, and she didn’t think she could continue fostering Dani.’

      Both Alice and Andy blinked. ‘How old did you say the girl was again?’

      ‘Twelve.’

      ‘And she’s lived with the foster mother all her life?’

      Kate nodded.

      Alice shook her head. ‘Some people—’ she muttered. ‘Are you trying to tell me she’s requesting that the girl be reassigned?’

      ‘I’m afraid so.’

      ‘Has she given you any reason, other than not being able to cope? Any real reason, I mean?’

      ‘Yes. She’s complaining that the child is showing signs of becoming violent.’

      ‘Violent?’

      ‘Getting into fights at school, attacking the other two children at home.’

      ‘Have you spoken to the school about it?’

      ‘Yes.’ Kate pulled a piece of paper out of her file and glanced at it. ‘I spoke to a Gina Sawyer, her class teacher. She seemed very surprised by the suggestion that Dani was aggressive. My understanding is that Dani Sinclair does get into scrapes, but they’re not of her own making.’

      ‘Bullying?’

      Kate shrugged slightly. ‘Her teacher didn’t use that word, but that’s what it sounded like to me.’

      Alice frowned. ‘Poor little thing. What’s your take on it?’

      Kate took a deep breath. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘the mother’s approached us, so we have to follow it up. I don’t think there’s any doubt that she’s finding things tough. Money’s obviously tighter than it used to be, which doesn’t help matters. But in my view, moving the child from her family home would be deeply traumatic, especially if she’s having difficulty at school. I think it should be avoided.’

      ‘I’m assuming you have no reason to believe the child is in danger. No signs of abuse?’

      Kate shook her head. ‘As I say, she’s a very retiring kind of girl. It’s difficult to get much out of her. I wouldn’t say she’s the happiest child I’ve ever met, but no, I wouldn’t say she’s demonstrating any of the warning signs.’

      ‘Do you think we need a supervision order?’

      ‘I’d say it’s early days for that.’

      ‘OK.’ Alice looked at Kate and Andy. ‘Kate, you need to keep tabs on the family – keep an eye out for any deterioration. But are we agreed that it’s in the child’s best interest for her to stay where she is?’

      ‘Absolutely,’ the two social workers said in unison.

      ‘Good.’ Alice smiled at them. ‘Well, I guess that wraps everything up.’ She scraped her chair back and stood up. ‘Have a good weekend, you two. I’ll see you both on Monday.’

      Dani Sinclair had dark brown hair, pale skin and clear brown eyes. She was small for her age, though close up you could tell that she was almost a teenager. When she cried, the tears would collect in her lower lids like water swelling against a dam; but the dam would eventually break, and the tears would suddenly wet her cheeks profusely. It happened a lot. Dani was a tearful little girl, not robust like some children, and she found it difficult to stop herself from crying when she started to feel the tears coming.

      She felt them coming now as she sat at the meal table with the two younger ones. It was fish fingers for tea.

      Dani didn’t really like fish fingers – didn’t like the way the fish oozed a kind of milky sap against the orange breadcrumbs when they were warm. But she never said so because the other two – James and Rebecca – loved them. Instead, she pushed the little pieces around her plate, occasionally summoning up the courage to eat a mouthful. She knew that they just got worse as they grew colder, but that didn’t make it any easier to eat them up when they were hot.

      At the other side of the small kitchen, their mum clattered around at the sink. Dani would be in trouble when her mum saw that she had barely eaten any of the food, and that thought spurred her on a bit. She stuck her fork into a piece of fish finger, put it in her mouth, chewed and swallowed. She shivered as the food went down.

      ‘Finished!’ Rebecca shouted loudly.

      ‘Me too!’ James chimed in.

      Their mum turned from the sink, suds dripping from the yellow washing-up gloves she was wearing. She walked to the table and picked up the two empty plates, before looking down at Dani’s.

      Dani returned the look and steeled herself for what was to come.

      ‘You’re a fussy little beggar, Dani,’ she snapped. ‘Why can’t you eat the food I give you? Why can’t you be more like your brother and sister?’

      Dani kept quiet, and endured the smug stares coming from СКАЧАТЬ