Too Scared to Tell. Cathy Glass

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СКАЧАТЬ you have everything you need to look after Oskar?’ Andrew now asked me. It was a standard question asked by the child’s social worker and my supervising social worker.

      ‘Yes, although some more background information would be useful.’

      ‘That reminds me,’ he said, dipping his hand into his briefcase. ‘I’ve got your copy of the placement forms.’ He took them out and passed them to me. I tucked them into my fostering folder to read later.

      ‘Your adult children live here too?’ he asked me, glancing at the framed photographs of them on the walls.

      ‘Yes. Adrian, Lucy and Paula. They’ll be back shortly.’

Andrew made a note. ‘And Oskar has age-appropriate self-care skills and is dry at night?’

      ‘Yes.’ It was another standard question; this type of information was needed for the report Andrew would write on his visit. He would also be observing Oskar in the placement and watching how he was settling in and relating to us – his foster family.

      ‘If Oskar could have more of his toys from home that would be good,’ I said.

      ‘Yes, of course,’ Andrew agreed as he wrote. ‘I’ll ask Roksana when she returns. But I can see you’ve got plenty of toys here in the meantime.’

      I smiled. ‘Yes, I’ve been fostering a long time.’

      ‘What do you like playing?’ Andrew now asked Oskar.

      He shrugged.

      ‘You did a jigsaw puzzle,’ I prompted, but Oskar didn’t add anything. ‘I’m still trying to find out what interests him,’ I told Andrew. ‘He likes a bedtime story, but he’s still wary of us all.’

      It was only as I said this that I fully acknowledged just how true it was. Oskar was very wary around all of us, especially Adrian, more so than I would have expected or had experienced, and for reasons I couldn’t identify.

      ‘You like living here with Cathy and her family?’ Andrew asked Oskar, who was still sitting impassively on the sofa beside him.

      ‘Yes,’ he said in the same small voice.

      Andrew looked at him. ‘What don’t you like?’

      Oskar didn’t reply.

      ‘Is this a good time for you to have a chat with him alone?’ I asked Andrew.

      ‘Probably,’ Andrew said. ‘Thank you.’

‘I’m going to see to dinner,’ I told Oskar as I stood.

      He immediately looked anxious and was going to leave the sofa and come with me.

      ‘You stay with Andrew,’ I said. ‘I’ll be in the kitchen.’

      ‘Just five minutes,’ Andrew told him.

      Oskar didn’t look very reassured but stayed with Andrew as I left the room. It occurred to me that the only person Oskar seemed really comfortable with was his teacher, Miss Jordan. What, I wondered, or rather who, had made him so suspicious of adults by the age of six?

      Drawing the living-room door closed behind me so Andrew and Oskar could talk in private, I went into the kitchen, put the casserole in the oven and then went into the front room and sat at my computer. Andrew had said five minutes, but once they got talking it would likely be longer and I tended to make the most of any free time I had. I opened the file I’d been working on, but no sooner had I done so than a key went in the front door as Paula let herself in.

      ‘Hello, love,’ I said. ‘Oskar and his social worker are in the living room. Have you had a good day?’

      ‘Yes,’ she said. Slipping off her shoes and hanging her jacket on the hall stand, she came into the front room. I saved the file I was working on so we could talk.

      A few minutes later the living-room door opened. ‘Cathy?’ Andrew called.

      I went into the hall, and so too did Paula. Andrew and Oskar were standing at the far end.

      ‘Oskar is a bit anxious and wants to know where you are,’ Andrew said. Oskar actually smiled at Paula and looked pleased to see her, which was a first and positive.

      ‘This is my youngest daughter, Paula,’ I said, introducing her to Andrew.

‘Hello. Pleased to meet you. Perhaps you can look after Oskar while I talk to your mother,’ Andrew suggested.

      ‘Yes, if he’ll stay with me,’ Paula said.

      I went to Oskar. ‘You can choose some games and puzzles from the toy cupboard and Paula will play with you while Andrew and I talk,’ I told him. Apparently, Oskar preferred this option to having to stay with his social worker, and he went with Paula into our kitchen-diner where the toy cupboards are as Andrew and I returned to the living room. I now hoped to learn more about Oskar and have some of my questions answered.

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