Little Prisoners. Casey Watson

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      ‘Hey, look at you, eager beaver!’ he said. ‘Can’t wait to get home again, can you?’

      We were returning from a glorious week in Corfu. Just the two of us. A rare break, and one we really needed. We’d just said goodbye to our most recent foster child, Sophia, and the impromptu holiday had been a real tonic. Sophia’s had been a two-week emergency stay that had stretched to almost a year. It had also been a pretty bumpy ride.

      I snuggled up as far as my seat belt would let me, anxious to reassure him that that wasn’t the case. Well, not quite. ‘Oh, love,’ I said. ‘It’s been a fantastic holiday, really. But you know what I’m like. I’m missing the kids now. Especially baby Levi.’

      Levi was our little grandson and one of the joys in our lives. ‘I know,’ Mike said, squeezing over so I could see out. ‘Me too, if I’m honest. But we’ll be home in next to no time … ah, here we go. Let’s see how he lands it.’

      We both watched as the plane seemed to float towards the runway. No bumps today. The pilot touched down perfectly.

      Looking after Sophia, who was now 13, and in temporary residential care, while they tackled her mental health problems, had been an experience we wouldn’t forget in a hurry. The outlook was positive, and we were still seeing her regularly, but what we’d been through when she was with us had taken its toll. Not just on the poor child but on us as a family, and now we were safely back on terra firma I realised just how much I needed to see my own children. Riley, my eldest, and mother to my gorgeous Levi, had given us the news, just the evening before we’d left, that she was now pregnant with our second grandchild. We’d been so thrilled, and now I was itching to get back to her and give her another hug.

      I also couldn’t wait to see Kieron, our son, who I knew wouldn’t relax till he had us safely home again. He has Asperger’s syndrome and one of its features is that changes in routine made him anxious. Though he’d been away himself for a few days’ holiday with his girlfriend Lauren and her family, I knew it wouldn’t stop him fretting about whether we were okay.

      And now we’d touched down, I couldn’t wait to actually get home and see them, so getting away from Manchester Airport couldn’t happen soon enough. I hate airports, especially in the middle of the day, when they’re at their busiest, and today wasn’t going to be an exception. We were herded along blindly down endless white corridors, then, due to all the extra security procedures, stood in one interminable queue after another. I sometimes wondered if we wouldn’t be better off going by boat. Finally, we emerged into the baggage reclaim area, but typically, there was no baggage yet in sight.

      Sod this, I thought. I hadn’t had a cigarette in ages. ‘Mike,’ I said, making a familiar gesture. ‘D’you mind waiting for the cases, love, and I’ll see you outside?’

      He smiled indulgently, bless him. ‘Go on, then,’ he said. Which was kind of him – as a non-smoker, I knew how much he wished I’d give up. Which I would, very soon. But not today. Giving him a quick peck, I headed off towards the arrivals hall and outside, rummaging in my handbag for my cigarettes as I went.

      As I did so, I also pulled out my mobile. Time to switch it back on and catch up with everyone. I was particularly keen to speak to Riley, of course, just to check all was well with the new pregnancy. Plus I knew she might be anxious to speak to me too. We were close, and she knew just how much looking after Sophia had taken out of me. I knew she’d would want to catch up.

      My thoughts were confirmed within seconds of turning my phone on. A series of bleeps, as text after text began appearing – though the texts, I could see, were all from voicemail. Hmm, I thought. Someone’s keen to welcome me back. The much-needed cigarette shelved for the moment, I dialled voicemail, put my ear to the phone and listened.

      It hadn’t been Riley, but they were all from the same person. John Fulshaw, the link worker at the fostering agency Mike and I worked for. They’d all been made today, and were all pretty much identical. ‘Casey, can you please call me as soon as you get this?’

      I was immediately alert. This could only mean one thing. That he must have another child in mind for us.

      Mike appeared then, dragging both our cases behind him. They’d obviously not taken as long as we’d expected. I waved my mobile at him. ‘Hey, guess what?’ I said to him, my grin widening at the prospect. ‘John’s been on the phone, leaving messages!’

      ‘Bloody hell, Case!’ he said. ‘We’ve only just touched down! What messages? What does he want?’

      I shook my head. ‘I don’t know yet. But I’m hoping it’s another kid.’

      Mike rolled his eyes at me. ‘Already?’ Then he grinned. ‘Go on, then. Ring him. Might as well do it now.’

      My excitement mounting, I dialled the now familiar number. Over the past couple of years, we’d grown very close to John. These days he was more of a friend than a boss, and I felt I was becoming used to all his little ways. He was a born worrier and he sounded worried now.

      ‘Oh, thank God, Casey!’ he said. ‘I was beginning to think I had my dates wrong. You are back in the UK now, are you? You’re not still on hols?’

      ‘No, we’re here,’ I said. ‘What’s up? You sounded slightly panicked on voicemail.’

      ‘“Slightly” is putting it mildly,’ he answered. ‘We’ve been landed with a real emergency situation, and, to be frank, I have nowhere else to turn.’

      ‘Go on,’ I said, even more intrigued now. I couldn’t help it. For all the lows of my job, this bit was one of the highs. This part when you had no idea what was just around the corner. What the child would be like, what their problems might be, what grim circumstances they’d come from and why.

      I heard him take a breath. ‘Look, I hate to put this on you, Casey. And you can say no if you want, you know that, don’t you? But well, it’s a sibling placement. Two children …’

      ‘Two kids. Oh, my!’

      ‘Yes,’ he confirmed. ‘Young ones. Older boy, younger girl. And it’s a desperate situation – they have to be moved as soon as possible. They’ve both been grossly neglected and are – or so I’m told – in a terrible state. And that’s both mentally and physically.’

      ‘Physically? Have they been hurt?’

      ‘No, it’s nothing like that. Well, as far as we know, it isn’t. More neglect. Serious neglect. They’ve been living a bit like animals. It’ll be a challenge, Casey, I’m not going to lie to you. They have some issues. Their behaviour will need managing. The only thing I can say is that it’s going to be an extremely short placement. Just interim. Two weeks, three at the most.’

      ‘Well,’ I said, gesturing to Mike, who was watching intently. ‘You know what I’m like – always up for a new challenge. And the two of them … what ages?’

      ‘Erm, six and nine, I think. Or thereabouts.’

      Little ones, then. In comparison with my last child, for sure. ‘Look,’ I said. ‘I’m obviously going to have to run this by Mike first.’ Mike’s eyebrows rose. ‘Make sure he’s happy with it, okay? Can I call you back?”

      ‘’Course you can.’

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