Innocent: Part 1 of 3: The True Story of Siblings Struggling to Survive. Cathy Glass

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СКАЧАТЬ I gasped. ‘He’s only eighteen months old. That makes a visit nearly every week!’

      Tess nodded sombrely. ‘Questions will be asked as to why the social services weren’t involved sooner. True, many of the previous visits were for ailments and minor injuries, but even so. Aneta was turning up regularly, saying the child had tripped and fallen, was sick, had ingested something they shouldn’t, had a cough, rash or high temperature. She was clearly anxious about her children’s health, but it was only on Monday when it was found that Kit had a broken arm that the history of her visits was thoroughly reviewed and the alarm raised. Now it seems similar had been going on at their doctor’s. I’m applying for the children’s medical records, but the doctor I spoke to said that Aneta was there most weeks – first with Molly and then with Kit. Her visits with Molly were initially put down to new-mother anxiety. It’s not unusual for first-time mothers to be anxious about their baby’s health and to keep seeking medical advice about minor ailments. But it continued with Kit and then the term “accident prone” started to be used. However, the children always appeared clean and Aneta was very attentive towards them. They were quiet while in the doctor’s and well behaved.’ She let out another heart-felt sigh. ‘Kit’s injury on Monday, plus the record of accidents for both children, crossed the threshold, so we felt they were at risk of significant harm and applied for the care order.’

      ‘And it’s a hundred per cent certain the injuries the children sustained were non-accidental?’ I asked.

      ‘You can never be a hundred per cent sure, but it is the most likely explanation and the judge agreed with us.’

I gave a small nod and sincerely hoped they were right, for the alternative – that the parents had been wrongly accused and had lost their children – was too awful to bear. ‘And contact?’ I asked. ‘Kit and Molly will be seeing their parents?’

      ‘Yes. I’ll set up supervised contact, probably three times a week to begin with.’

      ‘And the long-term care plan?’

      ‘A full care order. I can’t see them returning home.’

      When Tess had finished telling me what she knew about the family we returned to the living room where Paula, Preeta and the children were still on the floor by the toy box. Kit now had a toy shaker in his hand, but neither child was playing. Molly had her thumb in her mouth and was snuggled close to her brother. The room was unnaturally quiet considering two children were there, but at least they weren’t crying.

      ‘We’ll just have a look around and go,’ Tess said to Preeta. Then to me, ‘Do you have everything you need for tonight?’ She crossed to the patio window and looked out.

      ‘Yes, I think so,’ I said.

      ‘Nice garden,’ she remarked, then went over to Molly and Kit. ‘We’re going to look at the other rooms now. Would you like to come and see where you are going to sleep?’

      Kit kept his eyes on Paula, carefully watching her to see what she was going to do, while Molly had her head down, quiet, withdrawn and expressionless.

‘Would you like to come with us to see your bedroom?’ I tried, offering my hand to Molly. She shook her head, which was at least some response. ‘OK, stay here, you’ll see it later,’ I said positively. While it was usual for the children to look around the house with their social worker when they first arrived – or before, if it was a planned move and they had a chance to visit – it wasn’t essential, as it was for the social worker.

      ‘I’ll stay with them while you go,’ Preeta said to Tess.

      Tess nodded.

      ‘This is the living room,’ I said to everyone. ‘It’s where we spend most of our time in the evenings and weekends.’ Tess then came with me into the kitchen-diner where I’d already put the children’s seats ready at the table. ‘Do you know if either of the children has any special dietary requirements?’ I asked her as she looked around.

      ‘No, I don’t. I’ll ask their father when I speak to him later and phone you.’

      ‘Can you also ask him if they have any allergies?’ It was worrying how little I still knew about the children, and I was responsible for them now.

      ‘Will do,’ Tess said. ‘Apparently their mother often told the doctor she thought the children were suffering from allergies, but they changed on each visit, so if the child had a slight rash, upset tummy or cough, Aneta put it down to an allergy.’

      ‘The doctor didn’t agree?’

      ‘I don’t think so, but I’ll check with the father.’

      ‘I’ve made a cottage pie for dinner. I hope that’s all right,’ I said. ‘I assume Kit is on solid food?’

      ‘I would think so at his age,’ Tess said. She sniffed the air. ‘I thought I could smell something good. I’ll ask about food when I phone Filip. He wasn’t in any state to talk about that this afternoon.’

‘Please also ask him about any likes and dislikes the children may have, and their routine,’ I added. While Molly was old enough to tell me what she liked or didn’t like – when she finally began to talk – Kit wasn’t, so it was important Tess found out as much as she could from the parents. I couldn’t do anything about the children actually being in care, but I could at least make their lives as comfortable as possible while they were with me.

      ‘Do you want to see down the garden?’ I asked Tess. She was looking through the window at the far end of the kitchen, which overlooked the back garden.

      ‘No, I can see it from here. Let’s have a quick look at the children’s bedrooms and then we’ll need to get going.’

      I looked at her, concerned. ‘Bedroom,’ I said. ‘I hope Edith told you I only have one spare room. I’ve put a cot in there so the children will be sleeping together.’

      ‘Yes, that’ll be fine,’ she said, and we headed out of the kitchen-diner and down the hall. It was still very quiet in the living room. No sound of the children talking or playing. I didn’t show Tess the front room as we’d just been there, so we went upstairs to the children’s bedroom. ‘There’s not much space, but they can play downstairs,’ she said, voicing her thoughts. ‘It’s nice and light. How long have you been fostering?’

      ‘Twenty-five years.’

      She nodded and headed out. I quickly showed her the other bedrooms and bathroom. ‘You’ll need to cover Kit’s plaster to keep it dry when you bath him,’ she said.

      ‘Yes, is there a follow-up appointment at the hospital?’

      ‘I would think so. I’ll ask Filip.’

      We returned downstairs. Sammy, our cat, must have let himself in through the cat flap, for he was now sitting in the hall, trying to decide if it was advisable to go into the living room with strangers there.

      ‘Hopefully, the children aren’t allergic to cat fur,’ Tess remarked as we passed him.

‘I hope so too!’ For if they were, there was little I could do beyond what I did already: keep Sammy out of the bedrooms, comb him each day and regularly hoover. I couldn’t make him disappear.

      ‘You’ve СКАЧАТЬ