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I Miss Mummy: The true story of a frightened young girl who is desperate to go home
I Miss Mummy: The true story of a frightened young girl who is desperate to go home
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I Miss Mummy: The true story of a frightened young girl who is desperate to go home

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I Miss Mummy: The true story of a frightened young girl who is desperate to go home
Cathy Glass

Cathy Glass, the no.1 bestselling author of Damaged, tells the story of the Alice, a young and vulnerable girl who is desperate to return home to her mother.Alice, aged four, is snatched by her mother the day she is due to arrive at Cathy's house. Drug-dependent and mentally ill, but desperate to keep hold of her daughter, Alice's mother snatches her from her parents' house and disappears.Cathy spends three anxious days worrying about her whereabouts before Alice is found safe, but traumatised. Alice is like a little doll, so young and vulnerable, and she immediately finds her place in the heart of Cathy's family. She talks openly about her mummy, who she dearly loves, and how happy she was living with her maternal grandparents before she was put into care. Alice has clearly been very well looked after and Cathy can't understand why she couldn't stay with her grandparents.It emerges that Alice's grandparents are considered too old (they are in their early sixties) and that the plan is that Alice will stay with Cathy for a month before moving to live with her father and his new wife. The grandparents are distraught – Alice has never known her father, and her grandparents claim he is a violent drug dealer.Desperate to help Alice find the happy home she deserves, Cathy's parenting skills are tested in many new ways. Finally questions are asked about Alice's father suitability, and his true colours begin to emerge.

Copyright (#ulink_7a166fed-6e3e-5118-b272-64abe85dc2f7)

HarperElement

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd. 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk/)

First published by HarperElement 2010

Copyright © Cathy Glass 2010

Cathy Glass asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books

HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication

Source ISBN: 9780007267446

Ebook Edition © JULY 2010 ISBN: 9780007389803

Version: 2017-01-16

Contents

Title Page (#uea98581f-14ff-59dc-bb8b-608356fd7b6d)

Copyright (#u43f78481-f666-5d78-9035-4267a14c2e2a)

Chapter One: Desperate (#ue2354eea-7b25-5590-a78d-f7476bbd32a8)

Chapter Two: Am I to Blame? (#u77be1402-8f38-514f-8d8e-da49fc1a22ee)

Chapter Three: Stretched to the Limit (#ua87fe1ae-9fe7-5df4-b837-1348cd9d73a8)

Chapter Four: Normal? (#u11031bc7-78b1-58fd-a80e-9c35822a3710)

Chapter Five: ‘Mummy Things’ (#uf29cba33-8ee7-5449-bf0f-e4c58b23d23d)

Chapter Six: Sleeping with Wolves (#u9e7e8afd-5624-5617-8203-11c9e051b4ef)

Chapter Seven: Accused (#ueb8d69d3-70a6-5b5c-a4e9-0df1d63459aa)

Chapter Eight: When Can I See My Mummy? (#u131c8f17-01ff-585e-b6ad-75a0b1014eeb)

Chapter Nine: Pass the Parcel! (#u0fe9d7cc-5887-538b-b0ef-53cb4fac4e00)

Chapter Ten: Brian the Bear (#ua697c59c-9832-53c4-b183-c42e5796bdc4)

Chapter Eleven: Precious (#uf697e8bc-0bdc-50d9-9bd3-3e45451b095d)

Chapter Twelve: A New Mummy (#ue6c095a1-3837-519d-a90c-021f744957f6)

Chapter Thirteen: Placement Meeting (#u33b333fb-377b-5cac-a4c8-20ed9746758a)

Chapter Fourteen: A Beam of Love (#u366e8c5f-5a97-50ec-8afa-637867482c23)

Chapter Fifteen: A Dreadful Mistake? (#u4e856d69-01ff-500e-92a5-08cf8a0ce88a)

Chapter Sixteen: Breaking the Rules (#u3eeb021b-fce2-5dcd-b8a1-3032455ed5f1)

Chapter Seventeen: Warm and Cosy Inside (#u162371bc-afee-574b-a7e4-f7336541ab27)

Chapter Eighteen: Bad Practice (#u51971dcb-bc76-57ca-a3f5-f039e37e5333)

Chapter Nineteen: A Quick Fix (#u2ccd4199-e1e0-5a1e-aab6-bf39c335b0cb)

Chapter Twenty: Nail in the Coffin (#u64ae3ee0-2072-53be-942b-d96362215daa)

Chapter Twenty-One: Kitty-cat (#u10d9c2a6-8e55-5917-8a40-3da14c5faea7)

Chapter Twenty-Two: ‘Just One Line’ (#u2d582535-1116-571d-9bf5-7a427b5dfbfa)

Chapter Twenty-Three: Hunger Strike (#u6b095930-f404-595e-907d-72a787844b48)

Chapter Twenty-Four: Rejected (#u4f050a63-db46-5ff2-90ba-4844fc2768ee)

Chapter Twenty-Five: ‘Icing Sugar’ (#ufa2d5a23-345b-5e76-a5db-255fba4926b9)

Chapter Twenty-Six: Happy Sand (#u87f505ee-074b-5d03-a455-ac40b9148d7f)

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Letter (#uaf32168d-ab49-5a45-b263-e85a7cc0e27e)

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Judge’s Decision (#ua734d94b-5cfd-5f91-9713-9f5d4140a1d9)

Chapter Twenty-Nine: A Milestone Missed (#uae027167-28b1-5024-b96b-acf2971db562)

Chapter Thirty: Torn Apart (#u087fc8f0-6be6-5c2a-980d-ab8c7ee7b75d)

Chapter Thirty-One: Don’t You Want Me? (#ueca5b8f8-6e35-5675-83ed-1323ac4a2858)

Chapter Thirty-Two: Love from Mummy (#u5b59f240-0d4a-534a-8c31-44288537321d)

Chapter Thirty-Three: Expecting an Ogre (#u0751a989-aab1-5a7d-b713-20febaddaa98)

Chapter Thirty-Four: Don’t Make Me Go! (#u9df9d11e-fb7a-5f4a-b095-4324954f0043)

Chapter Thirty-Five: Very Disappointed (#ua6faca79-62da-5946-9986-88a0e8c036fd)

Chapter Thirty-Six: A New Year’s Wish (#u10544b4c-c694-5302-8926-21e0ab9d4b59)

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Ten Days (#u6f69f0c6-a725-5ef1-a8d0-4677052c4d8e)

Chapter Thirty-Eight: You Can Say No (#u231453e5-be80-5a70-ac7d-7b8752a9da5d)

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Adoption (#uccbbd8ed-ef76-56eb-8e75-21a31782b97f)

Chapter Forty: Finding Home (#u1aab218c-6e8f-5ee9-b30c-f672cbfc460d)

Chapter Forty-One: Moving On (#u491c9b14-83c9-5388-bd1a-48b8200485e0)

Author’s Note (#u9af4f502-e6ad-59f0-b5fb-44371fe9a2b0)

Epilogue (#u399d4d8b-3849-55c3-ab18-3b7559720828)

Exclusive sample chapter (#u5e3ad89a-8830-5741-9a24-8729c5075e4f)

Cathy Glass (#ufdaf607e-586d-55a3-9dcc-cb978d062980)

Moving Memoirs eNewsletter (#u986490b8-0986-56f2-a6f9-a39351723575)

About the Publisher (#u867a6cc0-e59a-5b2e-9b08-4e53dc8be22e)

Chapter One (#ulink_2b0ff55f-ac0b-53cb-b07b-12d0a527535b)

Desperate (#ulink_2b0ff55f-ac0b-53cb-b07b-12d0a527535b)

‘Mum has snatched her! The police are looking for them now. Goodness knows where they could have gone! They’re not at home.’

I could hear the anxiety and panic in the social worker’s voice on the other end of the phone, and I appreciated why. From the little I knew of the child’s mother, I knew she was very unstable, with ongoing mental health problems, compounded by drug addiction. I also knew she was fiercely opposed to having her daughter taken into care and had been fighting the social services for three months to stop it. But while no one wants to see a child forcibly removed from home, sometimes there is no alternative if the child is to be kept from harm.

‘When did this happen?’ I asked, equally concerned.

‘Two hours ago. They can’t have got far. The police have circulated a description of them, and the ports and airports have been alerted. No one could have foreseen this happening – otherwise we’d have taken Alice sooner.’

Alice was the little four-year-old I’d been expecting all afternoon. I’d been told the day before that the social services were going to court in the morning to ask the judge to grant an ICO (Interim Care Order) so that Alice could be brought into foster care. I knew from the referral (the print-out that gives the child’s basic details) that both her parents were drug users, and because neither of them could look after Alice she’d been staying with her maternal grandparents. I also remembered reading that Alice attended nursery from 9.00 a.m. to 3.15 p.m. every day.

‘Was Alice snatched from her nursery?’ I asked, puzzled, aware of the high security that now surrounds schools.

There was a slight hesitation. ‘No. The head teacher phoned the social services first thing this morning to say Alice wasn’t in nursery. When we went to the grandparents’ home after court this morning, to collect Alice, she wasn’t there.’

Now, I don’t think I’ve got incredible insight but if I’d been a social worker I think I might have heard alarm bells ringing if the child I was about to bring into care was suddenly absent from nursery on the morning of the court case.

‘We think the grandparents may have colluded in their granddaughter’s abduction,’ the social worker added. ‘They’re being interviewed by the police now, and I’m going to see them soon. I’ll phone you again later.’

‘All right. Thanks for letting me know. I do hope you find Alice soon.’

‘So do I,’ the social worker said. ‘And that she’s found safe.’

I replaced the receiver and returned to the kitchen, where I had been preparing dinner. It was 5.30 p.m. and I’d been expecting Alice at 1.00. The apprehension and nervousness which I’d been feeling all afternoon, and indeed which I always felt when waiting for a new child to arrive, now developed into full anxiety. Although I’d never met Alice, and had only the briefest of details, I knew enough to be very worried. Her mother, mentally unstable and possibly under the influence of drugs, had snatched her daughter in a desperate bid to keep her, and was now on the run. Who knew what was going through that mother’s mind or what she might do in desperation? News headlines flashed across my anxious thoughts: Mum leaps off bridge with daughter, Mum and daughter found dead. My morbid speculations were far fetched, but such things do happen, particularly when a parent is desperate or under the influence of drugs.

Ten minutes later the phone rang and I snatched it up, hoping it was news that Alice had been found safe and well. But it was Jill, my link worker from the agency I fostered for. In her voice I could hear the anxiety that I’d heard in the social worker’s, and which I now felt.

‘Did the social worker phone you?’ Jill asked. ‘I told her to contact you directly as soon as she heard anything. I’ve been in a meeting all afternoon.’

‘She phoned a short while ago, but they haven’t found Alice yet, although the police are out looking.’

‘Poor child,’ Jill said with a heartfelt sigh. ‘Poor mum.’

‘I know. But her mother must realize she can’t get away with it. They’ll be found eventually, and snatching her daughter is hardly going to count in her favour.’

‘Mum won’t have thought it through,’ Jill said. ‘With her level of problems she’ll have acted on impulse and won’t be thinking rationally.’ Which did nothing to ease my fear for mother’s and daughter’s safety. ‘Martha, the social worker, asked me if it was all right if they bring Alice straight to you when she’s found, assuming she doesn’t need hospital treatment, even if it’s out of office hours. I said I thought it would be.’

‘Yes, of course, bring her straight to me,’ I confirmed; then, unable to resist a dig: ‘I don’t really work to office hours, Jill.’

‘No, I know, but you know what I mean.’

‘Yes. Hopefully the police will find her soon.’

‘I hope so,’ Jill said. ‘The poor child will be upset enough already at having to come into care without all this.’

Deep in thought, I returned to the kitchen and the dinner I was preparing, which was now running late.

Adrian appeared, his stomach growling. ‘When’s dinner ready, Mum?’

At fourteen, my son was continuously hungry, and growing upwards at an quite a rate. He was already four inches taller than me, and he was going to be six foot, like his father – who unfortunately no longer lived with us.

‘About half an hour till dinner,’ I said. ‘Have an apple if you’re hungry.’

He nodded, and took an apple and banana from the fruit bowl, and a packet of crisps from the cupboard.

‘I hope that’s not going to spoil your appetite,’ I called after him, envious. I couldn’t have eaten all that and dinner without putting on weight. There was no answer, but I knew the snack wouldn’t spoil his appetite. Adrian never left his food, unlike Lucy, my twelve-year-old foster daughter who picked at her food.

Presently Paula, my ten-year-old daughter, came into the kitchen and began foraging for food.

‘No, leave the biscuits,’ I said. ‘Dinner will only be fifteen minutes.’

‘Adrian’s got crisps,’ she said accusingly.

‘I know, and you can have a packet after dinner, if you’re still hungry. Although fruit would be better.’

She pulled a face but left the biscuit tin untouched in the cupboard. ‘Isn’t that little girl coming?’ she asked, suddenly remembering that I’d said Alice would be with us for dinner.