Groomed: Part 3 of 3: Danger lies closer than you think. Casey Watson

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       Chapter 18

      And it was to the future, and only there, that I now resolved to look. Which was why when, a few days later, at the end of half-term week, I got an unexpected call from Danny, I had all but forgotten our recent conversation. Or, if not quite forgotten, had put out of my mind. It had been something of little consequence, after all; just my usual need to have loose threads tied up, with a fanciful bolt-on of imagining there might be something in Keeley’s file that might give her self-esteem a boost – a link to her past that we could perhaps revisit without causing her more pain. After all, I knew more than one retired social worker personally who sometimes wrote to former charges, sent birthday cards even – and, oh how precious those connections were once made.

      But it turned out that there was much more to it than that. ‘I tracked her down,’ Danny was saying, once he’d reiterated why he was calling and my brain had finally clicked into gear. ‘I felt bad, to be honest,’ he said. ‘You know, after that chat we’d had before.’

      ‘Why on earth?’ I was shocked to hear this, having accepted his reasoning.

      ‘Because you made a valid point. That her future had been decided – her extremely lonely future – on the basis of a statement made by a traumatised four-year-old. Anyway, suitably humbled, I bring tentatively positive news.’

      I begged to differ. One of the plus points of being at the sharp end, i.e. living with a child who was in the care system, as opposed to just visiting, was that, with a fair wind and a keen ear, there were all sorts of occasions where ‘right place, right time’ dynamics kicked in. I’d been lucky. It was often thus. I said so. ‘Anyway, what news?’ I added before he could disagree with me.

      ‘Tell you what – I’ll pop round, shall I? Better to run through it in person. Well, if you can come up with a time when Keeley’s otherwise engaged? I know it’s half-term, but –’

      ‘No problem,’ I said, excited now. ‘Leave it with me.’

      So it was that the same afternoon, with Tyler out anyway, and having sneakily dispatched Keeley round to Riley’s (so she could help with some firework-night kids’ party she was making decorations for – totally spurious but credible) I opened the front door to a decidedly cheerful-looking twenty-something social worker, clutching a manila folder against his jacket.

      ‘I’ve managed to comb through a load of old material,’ he said after settling down on the sofa with a mug of tea and a plate of biscuits. From my stock of posh biscuits. I had a hunch he’d be deserving them. ‘Did you notice the gap in her records?’

      I shook my head. I’d not paid that much attention to the dates. I rarely did.

      ‘Well, there is one. The small matter of an unaccounted-for couple of months. I don’t suppose you would notice – not unless you were actually looking for it. As I was, of course, because I was trying to marry up this Mrs Higgins with the dates on Keeley’s file.’

      ‘So what happened in the gap?’

      ‘Precisely my question. It wasn’t long after she entered the system – a matter of days, that’s all – and my first thought was that she might have left the system for a bit, obviously. Gone to a family member or something.’

      Which could have been the case, because this happened reasonably regularly. Children were taken into care as emergencies and then a relative would step in, step up and offer to take them on, and, after all the necessary checks were undertaken this was sometimes what happened. A win-win situation for all concerned. And no more contact with social services, file closed.

      But sometimes caring relatives bit off more than they could chew, and the children were subsequently returned to the system, creating a lose-lose situation instead. A child traumatised, then relieved at being back with known faces, then, their hopes dashed, traumatised all over again. I knew gaps in records were often because of situations like these.

      But this hadn’t apparently been the case with Keeley. Mrs Higgins had been assigned to her after a couple of days in care, and had been looking after her when she was moved to her intended long-term foster carer, a Mrs Stewart, where Keeley had spent the first fortnight.

      ‘By the time the children were interviewed the other four had already been moved along,’ Danny explained. Only Keeley had remained where she was.’

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