A Boy Without Hope. Casey Watson

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Chapter 4

      ‘How on earth …?’ Libby Moran said, getting up and joining Tyler at the front window. She was still rummaging in her bag, seemingly unable to accept the evidence of her own eyes.

      ‘My thoughts exactly,’ I said, pulling Tyler away. If it was attention Miller was after, then perhaps best if we didn’t give him any.

      ‘Did you leave them in the ignition?’ Mike asked, unable to hide his astonishment.

      She shook her head. ‘No, it’s a wireless ignition. ‘But I put them in my bag … God, he must have got them out again while I was getting his stuff from the back seat.’ She clapped a hand to her forehead. ‘God, I’m so stupid!’

      Miller was still gurning at us, sticking his tongue out and pressing it against the car window, so I suggested we all come away. He clearly wanted us out there so he could taunt us a little further. ‘Why don’t we leave him to it and get started on the paperwork?’

      ‘Good idea,’ she said, visibly trying to regain a sense of order. She took her seat again. I felt a bit sorry for her.

      ‘Have you been his social worker for a long time?’ I asked as we joined her.

      She pulled out a bunch of papers from the large canvas bag. ‘I’m afraid not.’ She sounded apologetic, as if that was a personal failing. ‘In fact, I don’t know Miller very well at all. His previous social worker left two months ago – she’s gone on maternity leave – and she’d only been with him for a year. I’ve only had two visits since I got assigned to him, to be honest. I don’t think he likes me very much,’ she finished.

      Looking at her doleful expression, I wondered if the feeling might be mutual. ‘Well, I imagine he’s gone through social workers as regularly as he’s gone through carers, so I expect he finds it difficult to build up meaningful relationships with any of them. I wouldn’t take it personally,’ I added reassuringly. ‘It just is what it is.’

      ‘I suppose,’ she said, gesturing towards the paperwork she’d got out. ‘And I’m afraid I’ve not had time to get everything together at such short notice, but what I do have is his last care plan, his last risk assessment and a minuscule paragraph about his education, such as it is. I should be able to pull some more bits together for you over the next few days, but in the meantime I’m afraid what I’ve got on him is all a bit sketchy.’

      Plus the small matter of us not actually having the ‘him’ in question inside the house yet. ‘That’s absolutely fine,’ I said. ‘We’ll just take him as we find him. On which note, do you think it might be worth Mike going out to try and entice him in?’

      Libby looked at Mike with such hope in her eyes that I wondered what sort of stand-offs they’d already had. Forget forging a ‘relationship’. I suspected she’d yet to even exert basic control. ‘It could be worth a shot,’ she said. ‘Thank you. If you don’t mind, that is.’

      ‘Of course not,’ Mike said. ‘But let’s give it another five minutes first, eh? I don’t want to antagonise him on his first day with us if I don’t have to. The kid might just decide to join us on his own accord.’

      He was probably right. I leaned in to pick up the risk assessment document. ‘Well, we may as well use the time to take a look through some of this,’ I said, scanning the main points.

      It was a document that I was very familiar with, though at first glance they can seem very confusing. They are all different, obviously, because every child in care is, but, structurally, they were all pretty much the same: a grid of rows and columns, each of which represents an area of risk that a child might either pose or be exposed to. It covers areas such as risk of absconding, of self-harming, of exploitation and so on. There are many different areas, too, so it can be quite a long list, and for each there is a column that goes on to explain the potential risk, and how it might play out in reality. This is then followed by a third column that explains how the risk is currently being managed – what is being done, and by whom, in order to minimise that risk. Then, finally, there’s a column that is all about suggestions; ideas about what further actions could be taken.

      Miller’s risk assessment document was detailed, to say the least, and I noticed immediately that there was something about monitoring his medication, and checking that he actually swallowed his nightly tablets as he apparently had a tendency not to take them. I recognised them too. They were a brand of melatonin. ‘So he’s on medication to help him sleep then?’ I asked Libby.

      ‘Oops – glad you spotted that,’ she said, delving once again into her capacious bag, and pulling out a plastic bag with a tablet box inside it. ‘Don’t want to land you with another load of problems, do I? Though there’s only a few days’ supply in there, I’m afraid. You’ll need to get in touch with your GP to get some more organised. He takes the maximum adult dose.’ She consulted her notes. ‘Three per night, 7 p.m.’

      Before I had the chance to point out that it was already a lot later than that, Tyler, who’d been keeping a discreet eye-out anyway, called us once again to the window.

      ‘Well, that’s … interesting,’ he said, as we all went to join him. ‘Is it a boy? Is it a T-Rex? You decide …’, he added, laughing.

      It appeared to be the latter. Some sort of dinosaur, at any rate. Miller, who was dark-haired, and slighter than I’d expected, was currently striding up and down on the grass outside the window, with his neck craned forward, his shoulders hunched, and his arms close to his chest with his hands bent and hooked to look like claws. ‘What the hell is that about?’ Tyler observed, transfixed.

      ‘Language!’ I reminded him, trying not to smile myself. It was really quite an impressive impersonation. ‘Perhaps time to go out and rein him in?’ I said to Mike.

      ‘Literally, by the look of it,’ he said, chuckling and shaking his head. ‘I’ll just go and dig out my patented dinosaur net, shall I?’

      Libby, however, looked far from amused. And something else struck me – was she actually afraid of this child? ‘I think you’d better,’ she said. ‘Before he gets even worse. The thing is with Miller is that he’s all about control. Likes to think he’s in charge. Pulling everyone’s strings, you know? Definitely something to bear in mind.’

      ‘Oh, we will,’ I said, watching him strut back and forth, completely focused on his performance.

      Or perhaps she was just embarrassed about having left her car keys in the car, with Miller – clearly a challenging child – still in there. Whatever the reason, she was certainly uncomfortable. ‘Would you like a top-up?’ I asked, nodding towards her empty mug.

      ‘No thank you,’ she said. ‘I need to rush off as soon as I can, actually. I have to get across the county to pick my husband up, and I’m already late.’

      I heard the front door go. ‘Okay, well let’s hope Mike can manage to get your car keys off Miller, then. And we’re happy to settle him in ourselves if you need to get off. I’ll have a read-through of what you’ve brought and hopefully you can dig up some more information for us tomorrow. I understand he’s excluded from mainstream education. Any news on an alternative yet?’

      Again, СКАЧАТЬ