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

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


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off with a twig in its beak to make a nest, or writing a poem you’re really pleased with. There are so many good things in the world to make us happy, but sometimes you have to look very hard to find them.’

      I pressed Lucy’s hand between mine and swallowed the lump rising in my throat. Lucy had such a beautiful way of putting things, I wondered if it was as a result of her suffering, if it had sharpened her senses, for I doubted the average twelve-year-old would have such insight. ‘Nevertheless, Lucy,’ I said, ‘you had a lot to cope with, and you coped very well. I’m just so pleased that that time is past and you found your way to me.’

      ‘So am I,’ she said. Throwing her arms around me, she gave me an extra big hug.

      Having said goodnight to Lucy and come out of her room, I hovered on the landing again, outside Alice’s door. It was quiet but I wanted to check on her so, easing the door open, I crept in. She was still on her back, fast asleep, with one little hand pressed to her chin. Relaxed in sleep, her lips were slightly parted, and I could hear the faintest whisper of her breath. What memories of her past would Alice have, I wondered; not only of the days when she was missing but from the four years before that? – her short life to date. Would her memories be like Lucy’s, which were similar to those of many of the children I’d looked after? – memories of severe neglect and abuse. I doubted it. Something told me Alice’s story would be very different, although I doubted it would be any less upsetting.

       Chapter Five

       ‘Mummy Things’

      Convinced I’d have a disturbed night, after checking on Alice I went straight to bed, hoping for a couple of hours’ sleep before she woke, distressed at finding herself in a strange room. I woke at 1.30 a.m. and, although I couldn’t hear Alice crying, I wondered if she’d called out and I’d subconsciously heard her. But when I went round to her room she was fast asleep, now curled on to her side, but still with one little hand pressed against her chin. I returned to bed and woke again just after 4.00. I immediately checked on her, but she was still asleep. At 6.00, when my alarm clock went off, Alice remained asleep, having slept far better than I had.

      It was Monday, a school day, so I needed to get going – showering and dressing, and then making the two packed lunches before I woke Adrian, Paula and Lucy. However, I also wanted to be with Alice when she woke so that I could reassure her, for I could imagine how frightening it would be at her age to wake from a deep sleep, alone in a strange room. She probably wouldn’t even remember how she got there the night before. I continued my normal weekday morning routine but interrupted it every ten minutes or so to check on her. Quickly showering, and with a towel wrapped round me, I checked on Alice. I hurriedly dressed in my bedroom and then checked on Alice. I went downstairs, fed Toscha and put the kettle on; then I returned upstairs to check on Alice. I made the packed lunches and checked on Alice. Then at 6.45, as I again peered into her room, I was rewarded by seeing her eyes flicker open, followed by a big yawn.

      I had been right to be concerned. The second Alice woke and saw unfamiliar surroundings she sat bolt upright in bed and cried, ‘Nana!’, her voice tiny with fright.

      I was immediately by her bed. ‘Hello, love,’ I smiled. ‘It’s all right. You’re safe. I’m Cathy. You came to my house late last night.’

      Alice looked at me with the same wide-eyed amazement she had the night before. She was completely overwhelmed, and probably wondering why and how I’d been summoned into her life like a genie from a lamp.

      ‘There’s nothing for you to worry about,’ I continued, kneeling by the bed and taking one of her little hands in mine. ‘You are staying with me for a while. I’m a foster carer. Do you remember seeing Adrian, Lucy and Paula last night? They are in their beds, still asleep.’

      She looked at me and blinked. ‘Nana?’ she asked in the same small voice, her eyes widening further. ‘Where’s my nana and grandpa?’

      ‘They’re fine, love, they’ll be at home in their house. I expect they are waking up, just like you.’ I’d obviously no idea where her grandparents were or what they were doing, but this seemed the most likely option and would, I hoped, reassure Alice. ‘Nana and Grandpa know you’re here,’ I added, feeling she should know this and that it might help.

      Alice blinked again and then her face began to crumple. ‘I want Nana and Grandpa,’ she cried, tears springing from her eyes.

      ‘Oh, love, don’t be upset,’ I soothed, putting my arm around her and holding her close. ‘You’ll see Nana and Grandpa soon.’ Again, I had to assume this would be so for, given that Alice’s grandparents had been her main carers for the last six months, I expected the social services to arrange contact so that Alice could see them within the next day or so. My reassurance seemed to help. The tears stopped and Alice’s face brightened a little. ‘That’s better, love,’ I said, and I cuddled her.

      Aware we would be having a very busy day, as soon as I’d woken the rest of the family, I would get Alice dressed and ready. When a child arrives, the first few days are always hectic. Apart from settling the child into our home, all the professionals connected with the case would phone or visit; clothes and toys would need to be collected from home if at all possible, or I would go out and buy new clothes; school and contact arrangements would be clarified; and if there was any reason to believe the child had been physically harmed or was in bad health then an emergency medical would be arranged.

      Alice had arrived with only the clothes she had on and I’d already sorted out a tracksuit and underwear from my emergency supply, which I kept in an ottoman in my bedroom. But now, seeing Alice properly for the first time, I realized that the tracksuit I’d selected was far too big. Although Alice was four she was so dainty I guessed she was probably wearing three-year-old clothes. ‘Just wait here a moment, love,’ I said, standing, ‘and I’ll find you something to wear until we can get your own clothes.’

      She looked up at me, wide eyed and incredulous, and, not for the first time since I’d begun fostering, I wondered how on earth these children coped with all the turmoil and upheaval in their short lives; I doubt I would have coped so well. Before I left the room I took one of the cuddly toys I’d arranged on the chair in Alice’s bedroom and tucked it beside her on the bed. ‘Ben will keep you company,’ I said. ‘I won’t be a minute.’ Alice slowly blinked, her long black eyelashes fluttering gracefully; she really was a beautiful child, and despite everything that had happened to her she seemed to have a natural inner peace.

      Going round the landing en route to my bedroom to change the clothes for Alice, I knocked on each of the children’s bedroom doors and then poked my head round. ‘It’s seven o’clock, time to wake up,’ I called, adding, ‘Alice is awake,’ which I hoped might provide the incentive for them to leap out of bed.

      In my bedroom, I rummaged in the large ottoman, where I found another tracksuit, pale blue, which looked more like Alice’s size. I also took out some smaller-sized socks and pants. Closing the lid, I returned round the landing, again poking my head into the children’s bedrooms. ‘It’s seven o’clock,’ I repeated. ‘Time to get up. Alice is awake.’ And whereas before I’d been met with silence, I now heard murmurs and groans suggesting they were awake and might even get up.

      Alice was exactly as I’d left her, sitting up in bed and staring at her surroundings, with the cuddly toy at her side. ‘All right, love,’ I said, ‘let’s get you dressed. You can have a bath later, tonight.’ Had she arrived dirty, as some children do, I would have bathed her straightaway, but Alice looked clean and it was preferable she got to know me a little before I started bathing her. ‘You can wear these today,’ I said, showing her the tracksuit. ‘I’ll wash the clothes you have on and you can wear them again tomorrow.’ For in the new and unfamiliar world in which Alice now found herself, she might have thought I was taking away her own clothes for good.

      Alice remained


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