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She shook her head.
‘A biscuit?’ I asked, offering her the plate.
She shook her head again.
‘She’ll need something to eat before bed,’ Jessie said. ‘She had her school dinner but has only had a drink since then.’
‘You can tell me what you’d like later,’ I said to Beth with a smile.
But she pressed the tissue to her eyes and looked close to tears. I wasn’t surprised. I couldn’t begin to imagine how upsetting or unsettling it must be for a child to suddenly have to leave their home and all that is familiar and live with strangers.
Beth gave a sniff and then suddenly blurted: ‘It’s my fault my daddy’s ill. It’s because I forgot to give him his tablets.’ A tear escaped and ran down her cheek. Adrian and Paula looked at Beth, very worried.
‘No, that’s not the reason,’ Jessie said kindly, slipping her arm around Beth’s shoulders. ‘I explained to you on the way here that sometimes tablets are not enough to make a person better and they have to go into hospital. Your daddy was taking the tablets. It’s not your fault, Beth.’
Jessie cuddled Beth for a few minutes while Paula and Adrian, looking very concerned, sat close to each other on the floor beside the building bricks. I threw them a reassuring smile.
‘I’m wondering if we could go somewhere private to talk?’ Jessie asked me when Beth had stopped crying and had dried her eyes.
‘Yes, of course,’ I said. ‘We can go in the front room.’
‘Beth, you stay here with Adrian and Paula while I talk to Cathy,’ Jessie said. ‘Perhaps Adrian will show you his book. It looks good to me.’
Jessie stood and Adrian took his book and went and sat in the place Jessie had vacated. Paula immediately went too, sitting on the other side of him.
‘Thanks,’ I said to them as we left the room.
I showed Jessie into the front room and pushed the door to so we couldn’t be overheard.
‘I didn’t want to discuss Beth’s father in front of her,’ Jessie said, drawing out a chair and sitting down. I sat opposite her. ‘She’s finding it difficult enough already.’
I nodded.
‘Beth has been brought up by her father, Derek, since she was little,’ Jessie said. ‘I think she was about two or three when her mother disappeared. Beth never sees her. Derek has done a good job of bringing up Beth alone, but they came to the notice of the social services a few months ago. Derek went to his doctors saying he couldn’t cope and was depressed. He was prescribed medication, which seemed to work for a while, but today he reached crisis point. I don’t know why. He took Beth to school and then went straight to casualty at the hospital. He told the doctors he couldn’t take any more and was thinking of committing suicide.’
‘Oh dear. The poor man,’ I said.
‘Yes. They’ve admitted him to the psychiatric wing of St Mary’s Hospital, but I’m hoping it won’t be for long. Once his condition has been stabilized he should be able to go home with medication. If he’s in for longer than a week, Beth will need to visit him. They’re very close.’
‘Yes, of course,’ I said. ‘Beth’s obviously going to miss him a lot. And there isn’t a relative who can look after her?’ Which is usually considered the next best option if a parent can’t look after their child.
‘Not that we’re aware of,’ Jessie said. ‘Derek has had nothing to do with his ex-wife’s family since she left four years ago. His own mother died last year and his father is old and frail and in a care home. Derek is nearly fifty. He had Beth late in life.’
‘I see.’
‘That’s all the information I can give you really,’ Jessie said, winding up. ‘You have my contact details, so telephone if there is a problem. Now, I need to get going. I’ll say goodbye to Beth and leave you to it. I’m sure Beth will feel a bit brighter in the morning after a good night’s sleep.’
Jessie hadn’t given me much background information, but I assumed I had what I needed to look after Beth and that the rest was confidential.
We returned to the living room where the children were sitting in a row on the sofa looking at the pictures in Adrian’s book as he turned the pages.
‘I’m going now,’ Jessie said to Beth. ‘If you need anything, ask Cathy. As soon as I have news about your daddy I’ll phone. But try not to worry. The doctors are looking after him and I’m sure he’ll be better soon.’
‘When can I see my daddy?’ Beth asked anxiously.
‘As soon as he’s a little better,’ Jessie said. ‘I’ll be in contact with the hospital tomorrow and I’ll telephone Cathy.’
I could see from Beth’s face that this hadn’t reassured her. Indeed, she looked close to tears again.
‘Goodbye,’ Jessie said. ‘Try not to worry.’
‘I’ll see Jessie out and then I’ll get you something to eat.’ I smiled at Beth.
Beth looked back, lost and afraid.
I went with Jessie down the hall and it was only as she began putting on her coat that I realized I didn’t know which school Beth went to.
‘Beth’s school?’ I asked. ‘I assume she’s still going to school while her father is in hospital?’
‘Yes, sorry, I should have said. It’s Orchard Primary School, about a five-minute drive away.’
‘Oh,’ I said, surprised. ‘That’s the same school Adrian goes to. I thought Beth looked slightly familiar. I’ve probably seen her going in or coming out of school. She’ll be in the year above Adrian.’
‘Well, that’ll make life easier for you,’ Jessie said. ‘One school run to do.’
‘Yes, indeed.’
‘When I collected Beth from school today I informed the school secretary that she’ll be staying with you for a little while.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘So Beth and Derek live quite close?’
‘About three-quarters of a mile away,’ Jessie confirmed. ‘Well, goodnight. I’ll be in touch, and thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
I saw Jessie out and closed the front door. Returning to the sitting room, I found Adrian and Paula now sitting either side of Beth. Adrian was still turning the pages of his book but was also giving a little commentary on the pictures, while Paula, having felt brave enough to leave her brother’s side, was snuggled close to Beth and holding her hand. I was pleased my children were making Beth welcome.
‘Jessie has just told me that you go to Orchard School,’ I said, smiling at Beth. ‘That’s Adrian’s school too.’
Beth gave a small nod, while Adrian turned to her and said: ‘I recognized you when you first came in.’ Then, looking at me, he said: ‘We don’t really know each other. Beth’s in another class.’
‘Still, it’s nice you are both in the same school,’ I said.
‘My teacher is Miss Willow,’ Beth said quietly to Adrian.
‘And mine is Mr Andrews,’ Adrian said. ‘He’s OK, but he shouts sometimes.’
As Adrian and Beth began talking about school, I thought it was a piece of good fortune that Beth lived locally, as one school run would certainly make my life easier. A more experienced foster carer would have realized that having a child’s family live so close, far from being a bonus, could actually cause problems.
Chapter Two
Mr Sleep Bear (#u3641ec51-23c6-52d7-b9a4-59184395ef42)
I usually put the children to bed in ascending order of age – the youngest first – as younger children generally need more sleep. But tonight, as it was past the bedtimes of all three children, I took them upstairs together. I’d already placed Beth’s case in her room and had taken out her pyjamas, towel and wash bag. I would unpack the rest of her case the following day when I had more time. I now asked Beth and Adrian to change into their pyjamas while I got Paula, who was very tired, ready for bed. I switched on the light in Beth’s room and checked she had everything she needed and then left her to change; Adrian was already in his bedroom and knew what to do.
In the bathroom, I washed Paula’s face and hands and then helped her into her pyjamas. I took her round to the toilet. She was so tired she wanted ‘a carry’ from the toilet to her bed. I tucked her in, gave her a big kiss and said goodnight.
‘Night-night, Mummy,’ she yawned, her little arms encircling my neck. ‘Luv you.’
I hugged her hard. ‘I love you too, precious. Lots and lots. Sleep tight.’
By the time I left the room, she was nearly asleep.
I checked on Adrian who, now changed, was in the bathroom having a wash and brushing his teeth. ‘Straight into bed when you’ve finished,’ I said. ‘I’ll be in to say goodnight in a few minutes.’ He sometimes ‘got lost’ on his way from the bathroom to his bedroom and ended up downstairs playing, but I think even he was tired tonight, and he nodded.
I continued to Beth’s room. The door was pushed to but not shut. I gave a brief knock before I went in. Although Beth was only seven, I’d be giving her the same privacy I gave all the children. Nowadays foster carers draw up a ‘safer caring policy’, which includes privacy and is designed to keep all family members feeling safe and secure, but back then such matters were left to the carer’s common sense, and common sense told me that even quite young children liked some degree of privacy.
Beth had changed into her pyjamas and had also taken her clean school uniform out of her case ready for the following morning. It was laid neatly on the end of her bed.
‘Well done,’ I said, impressed. ‘You’ve got your uniform ready.’
‘I always do it at home,’ she said quietly. ‘But I don’t know where these go.’ Her brow creased. She was holding her dirty washing: underwear, socks and the uniform she’d presumably been wearing that day and had packed in her case. ‘At home I put them in the washing machine, but I don’t know where that is here.’
‘You don’t have to worry about that,’ I said, relieving her of the clothes. ‘I’ll see to it here. I’ll put them in the laundry basket and wash them tomorrow. Come on, let’s go round to the bathroom and then get you into bed. Everything will seem much better in the morning.’ Beth looked very sad and worried.
She gave a little careworn sigh and then picked up her towel and wash bag. ‘I hope I’ve remembered everything,’ she said anxiously. ‘I didn’t have much time to pack. Jessie was in a hurry.’
‘Beth, love, try not to worry,’ I said, touching her arm reassuringly. ‘If you’ve forgotten anything, I’m sure I’ll have a spare here you can use. And if not, we’ll ask your social worker to collect it from home. OK?’
She nodded, although she didn’t look much happier. I thought she appeared to shoulder a lot of responsibility at home for a child of her age. She looked permanently worried, although given her father was in hospital that was hardly surprising.
In the bathroom, Beth saw our towels hanging on the towel rail and immediately draped hers over, although a lot more neatly than ours. At the sink I showed her which tap was hot and which was cold. She gave a little nod. Not knowing how good her self-care skills were, I stayed in the bathroom to see if she needed any help. It soon became obvious that she didn’t. Unscrewing the cap on the toothpaste, she squirted a carefully measured amount of paste onto her toothbrush and then returned the cap to the tube, screwing it into place. She put the tube back into her wash bag and then methodically brushed her teeth and rinsed thoroughly. Once she’d finished she placed her toothbrush in the beaker with ours and then turned on the hot and cold water taps, mixing the water in the basin to the right temperature and testing it with her fingers before washing her face and hands.
‘Good girl,’ I said, even more impressed.
‘It’s too late for a bath, isn’t it?’ Beth asked, glancing at me in the mirror.
‘Yes. Just have a hands-and-face wash now. You can have a bath tomorrow when we’re in a better routine. Missing one bath won’t hurt.’
‘That’s what my daddy says,’ Beth said, smiling weakly. ‘I hope they’re looking after him in hospital.’
‘They will be, love,’ I reassured her.
I waited while Beth carefully patted her face and hands dry and then returned her towel, neatly folded, to the towel rail.
‘Good girl,’ I said again.
We went round the landing towards Beth’s room and she said she’d use the toilet before she went to bed, as she did at home. While Beth was in the toilet I popped into Adrian’s room to say goodnight and remind him to switch off his lamp. ‘Night, love,’ I said, tucking him in and kissing his forehead. ‘Love you. Sleep tight. And thanks for your help with Beth.’
‘She’s all right, for a girl,’ Adrian said, which, coming from a six-year-old boy, was a compliment. ‘Love you too,’ he said. ‘Will Dad be coming home at the weekend?’
‘Yes, I hope so.’
‘Good, I miss him.’
‘I know you do.’
I gave Adrian another kiss and came out of his bedroom. Beth had finished in the toilet and I went with her into her bedroom. I’d already closed the curtains, and with the Cinderella duvet cover, pillowcase and Disney wall posters, I thought the room looked warm and inviting. Although it obviously wasn’t as good as being at home.
I dimmed the lights and drew back the duvet ready for Beth to get in, but she stayed where she was and made no move to get into bed.
‘Is there anything else you need?’ I asked gently.
Beth shook her head.
‘OK, love, into bed then. It’s very late and you must be tired.’
I waited, but still Beth didn’t make any move towards the bed. ‘It’s bound to seem a bit strange sleeping here on the first night,’ I said. ‘But I can leave the door open and the light on if you like.’
‘No, it’s not that,’ she said, her face clouding.
‘What is it then, love? Can you tell me?’
‘I’m not used to sleeping alone.’
‘Oh, I see. Do you have a cuddly toy in your case that you usually sleep with?’ I thought this was likely, as many children sleep with a ‘cuddly’ toy for comfort so they don’t feel alone at night. I hadn’t seen a soft toy in Beth’s case when I’d taken out her nightwear, but then I hadn’t searched further down in the case.
‘No, I don’t have a soft toy,’ Beth said. ‘I don’t need one at home. I cuddle up to my daddy.’
‘Oh, I see. Your daddy cuddles you until you fall asleep?’ I said, remembering I’d done this with Adrian when he’d been little, as had John, and that I still did so with Paula sometimes. I could certainly cuddle Beth until she fell asleep, but she needed to get into bed first.
Beth looked at me seriously and fiddled with the sleeve of her pyjamas. ‘No,’ she said, after a moment. ‘I sleep with my daddy, in his bed.’
‘Oh,’ I said again. ‘Not every night, surely?’ For this seemed rather unusual to me for a girl of Beth’s age.
Beth nodded, almost sheepishly.
‘Don’t you have a bed and bedroom of your own?’ I asked. It was possible they didn’t have a second bedroom.
‘Yes, I have a bedroom,’ Beth said. ‘But I don’t sleep in it. I don’t like sleeping by myself. I like sleeping with my daddy and he likes me sleeping with him. Can I sleep with you? I don’t want to be alone.’
The safer caring policy for foster carers now advises that foster children should never sleep in a carer’s bed, and babies and children under two – who can share a carer’s bedroom – must have their own cot or bed. But then there was no safer caring policy so, as usual, I had to rely on my common sense. I wasn’t comfortable with having a seven-year-old who wasn’t a relative sleeping in my bed, apart from it not being fair on Adrian and Paula, who slept in their own beds. I also thought that Beth’s father might not like the arrangement, possibly feeling I was trying to usurp his position as parent. Obviously I didn’t want Beth to be upset, so I needed to find a solution.
‘Beth, love,’ I said gently as I perched on the edge of the bed. ‘I can’t really let you sleep in my bed. But I will stay with you and cuddle you until you fall asleep. I’ll leave your bedroom door open and the landing light is always on. If you wake in the night you can call out and I’ll come round straight away.’
Beth looked at me, unconvinced. But she needed to get into bed and off to sleep, so I thought I might have to be firm. ‘Come on, in you get,’ I said, patting her bed encouragingly. ‘I’ll stay with you until you’re asleep.’
Reluctantly, Beth climbed into bed and I pulled the duvet up to her chin. I then lay on the bed beside her, on top of the duvet, and put my arm around her to cuddle her.
