Too Scared to Tell. Cathy Glass

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СКАЧАТЬ We also have to be receptive if a child starts to tell us something, as what they are really trying to say may not be obvious.

      ‘This room is your bedroom and only you sleep here,’ I emphasized, hoping to make him feel safe. ‘I won’t come into your room and switch on the light unless you want me to. You can have your door open or closed, just as you wish. When it is time to get up for school, I will knock on your door to wake you and then you can call out, “Come in.”’

      ‘Knock on my door,’ he repeated, as though he hadn’t a clue what I was talking about.

      ‘Yes, like this.’ I stepped outside, drew the door to, knocked on it and said, ‘It’s Cathy, can I come in? Then you say, “Yes, come in.”’

      I demonstrated again and on the second try he called out, ‘Yes, come in.’

      ‘Great,’ I said. ‘Well done. Remember, it’s your room. You’re in charge of it. OK?’

He nodded, and at that point I think he began to accept that he was going to be safe, for his face lost some of its unease and he started looking around the room. There wasn’t really much to see without his possessions: furniture, posters on the walls, and I’d put in a toy box and some soft toys. Now he was more relaxed I thought I’d ask him to change. I really needed him to change into night clothes so I could wash his school uniform, and I didn’t want him to start a habit of sleeping every night in his day clothes.

      ‘Oskar, I’m going to wait outside while you change into your pyjamas and get into bed. Then, once you are ready, you can call out “come in”.’ Without waiting for a refusal, I stepped outside the door, drew it to and waited. A few minutes later his little voice rang out. ‘I’m in bed. You can come in.’ I smiled.

      Even so, I knocked on the door before I went in. ‘Well done,’ I said, and scooped up his day clothes. ‘I’ll wash these ready for school tomorrow.’

      ‘Will you take me to school?’ he asked, his little face peeping over the duvet.

      ‘Yes, and collect you. Now I want you to try to get some sleep. You’ve had a very tiring day. Would you like a goodnight kiss?’ I always check, otherwise it can be an uncomfortable invasion of the child’s personal space and terrifying for those who have been abused.

      Oskar shook his head and looked worried. ‘It’s fine, you don’t have to have a kiss. I’ll just say goodnight and see you in the morning. Call out if you need me.’ I tucked him in and went to the door. ‘Would you like your door left open, closed or a little open?’ I asked him again.

      ‘Closed,’ he said.

      ‘OK.’

      Leaving the light on low, I came out convinced there was far more going on for Oskar than anyone knew.

Downstairs, I put his clothes in the washer-dryer and then checked his school’s website for its start and finish times. After that, I set about writing up my log notes while I had the chance. All foster carers in the UK are required to keep a daily record of the child or children they are looking after. This includes appointments, the child’s health and well-being, education, significant events and any disclosures the child may make about their past. As well as charting the child’s progress, it can act as an aide-mémoire. When the child leaves, this record is placed on file at the social services. Some carers type these, but I’m not alone in preferring to keep a written record and then emailing a résumé as part of my monthly report to the child’s social worker and my supervising social worker.

      As I wrote, I included collecting Oskar from school, that he’d eaten a good meal, how he appeared to be coping with being in care and his comments where appropriate. The account has to be objective, so I didn’t include that I thought there was far more going on in Oskar’s life than anyone knew about. This was conjecture at present and time would tell if I was right or not. Once I’d completed my notes for the day, I stored the folder in a locked drawer in the front room with other important paperwork.

I went upstairs and quietly checked on Oskar. He was fast asleep. I then spent some time talking to Adrian, Paula and Lucy, who thought Oskar was a lovely boy but looked very troubled – ‘as though he has the weight of the world on his shoulders’, Paula said. This wasn’t altogether surprising considering he’d just come into care, regardless of whatever else might have happened in his past. I said I hoped that in time he would start to relax and look a bit happier, as other children we’d fostered had. Generally, children have amazing resilience and adapt to change – in my opinion, they are all little heroes.

      Aware that Oskar would probably have an unsettled first night, I went to bed shortly after ten o’clock. I never sleep well when there is a new child in the house. I’m half listening out in case they wake frightened, not knowing where they are and in need of reassurance. I checked on Oskar around 2.00 a.m., and when I woke at 6.00 he was still asleep. Indeed, he slept through until 7.00, when I gently woke him to get ready for school.

      ‘Where am I?’ he asked, sitting bolt upright in bed.

      ‘You’re staying with me, Cathy,’ I said quietly.

      ‘Oh yes, I remember.’ He rubbed his eyes.

      I now expected him to ask me when he would see his mummy, as most children would. He’d hardly mentioned her the evening before and he didn’t now. He simply got out of bed, used the toilet, and then I left him to change into his school uniform that I’d laundered the night before. I’d buy another school uniform today, as we couldn’t get by on one and I didn’t know if or when his clothes would be sent from home. Sometimes parents send their child’s belongings once they are less upset and angry about their child going into care, others don’t, in which case I replace the lot.

      I waited on the landing while Oskar dressed and then took him downstairs for breakfast, talking to him and reassuring him. Although he wasn’t saying much, he still looked anxious. Adrian and Lucy were already at the table having their breakfasts and said hi to Oskar. He looked at them warily. Paula didn’t have to leave as early as they did and would come down shortly. On a weekday my family usually fix their own breakfasts and then at the weekend, when there is more time, I often make a cooked breakfast.

At dinner the evening before, Oskar had sat next to Adrian where I’d laid his place, but this morning he seemed to purposely go around him to the other side of the table. He sat next to Lucy, as far away from Adrian as possible. ‘I’m honoured,’ Lucy said with a smile, having also noticed Oskar’s decision. It was where Paula usually sat at the table, but she wouldn’t mind.

      ‘What would you like for breakfast?’ I asked Oskar. ‘Cereal, toast, yoghurt, fruit?’

      He looked confused. ‘Would you like to come and see what we have?’ I suggested.

      ‘You can choose what you want,’ Lucy prompted when he didn’t move.

      ‘Within reason,’ I added. I wasn’t about to let him have a chocolate bar and fizzy drink for breakfast, as some children I’d fostered were used to. Foster carers are expected to provide healthy, nutritious meals for their family and the children they look after.

      Oskar slid quietly from his chair and came into the kitchen, where I opened the cupboard doors and the fridge to show him the choices. He didn’t seem to spot anything he might like. I opened the bread bin. ‘Or toast?’ I asked him.

      ‘I have rolls, a bit like those,’ he said, pointing, clearly used to something different.

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