Where Has Mummy Gone?: A young girl and a mother who no longer knows her. Cathy Glass
to leave her mother and kept hugging and kissing her until the contact supervisor said, ‘Time to go.’ With a final hug and kiss for her mother, Melody came to me and we left.
Outside the centre Melody said, ‘Mum liked your cottage pie. She ate it all.’
‘Good. She warmed it up in the microwave?’
‘Yes, the contact supervisor helped her, as children aren’t allowed in the kitchen. She was starving and said it was the first thing she’d had to eat since your rice pudding.’
‘But that was Wednesday,’ I said, shocked. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. She ate the crisps and biscuits too. I keep telling you, Mum forgets to eat without me telling her to.’
If Melody was right then it was very worrying and exceeded any adult–child dependency I’d seen before.
‘All right. I’ll make sure Neave knows.’ But shouldn’t her social worker have known already? I wondered. Melody and her mother had been known to the social services for some time. Unless of course Melody was exaggerating, perhaps thinking this was the way to get home.
Chapter Seven
On Saturday, I took Melody shopping to buy her some more casual clothes, a swimming costume, posters and knick-knacks for her room to make it more personal. Also, a rag doll she spotted and immediately fell in love with, as it reminded her of a doll she’d once owned that had been lost in one of the moves. Lucy and Paula came too and we had some lunch out. Adrian was playing football and then studying in the afternoon. It was a successful day and I could see that Melody was delighted with all the purchases and to have the company, attention and advice of the two older girls, who helped her choose her clothes.
‘Are you being spoilt?’ Lucy asked her.
Melody looked as though she might have done something wrong.
‘It’s OK, she’s joking,’ I said. ‘Lucy has everything she needs.’
On Sunday we had a leisurely morning, including a full English breakfast – a first for Melody. In the afternoon I took her to the cinema, leaving the others at home to finish their homework and chill out. I’d learned that young people need their own space sometimes, especially in a family that fosters where there is often a lot going on, including regular visits from social workers, sometimes the child’s family, meetings and phone calls, all of which can be disruptive and intrusive to normal family life. Melody was mesmerized by the cartoon film and for the time it lasted she stopped worrying about her mother. However, as soon as it ended and we were on our way home she grew anxious again. ‘I hope Mummy has got up.’ ‘I hope she hasn’t got lost.’ ‘I bet Mummy hasn’t eaten.’ I reminded her we’d given her ready meals, which only had to be heated in the microwave. ‘I hope Mum remembers how to work the microwave,’ Melody continued.
‘I’m sure she will. You only have to press a couple of buttons.’
Melody looked doubtful.
On Sunday evening I telephoned my parents for a chat as I usually did if we hadn’t seen them during the weekend. They were very supportive of my fostering and knew we’d get together once Melody had settled in. The children I’d fostered loved my parents, as of course did Adrian, Paula and Lucy. They were the typical doting grandparents and welcomed all the children we looked after into their hearts and homes.
Too quickly it was Monday again and I was waking my family ready for school. Melody was happy as she was seeing her mother that evening and had a swimming lesson at school. She couldn’t wait to wear her new swimming costume and use the new towel she’d chosen when shopping. It had a large picture of Walt Disney’s Donald Duck. ‘You’re quackers!’ Adrian joked when she showed it to him, and we all groaned.
Melody and I left the house first as usual and once I’d seen her into school I stopped by the supermarket to top up on some essential groceries. Once home, I telephoned Jill to update her. Foster carers like me who foster for an Independent Fostering Agency (IFA), rather than directly for their Local Authority, usually report to their supervising social worker at their agency first, who then updates the child’s social worker. Jill was in the office and began by asking me if we’d had a good weekend. I said we had and told her briefly what we’d done. She wasn’t just making conversation; as my supervising social worker she needed to know what I’d arranged for the child to do over the weekend. I then told her what Melody had been saying about her mother not eating or being able to do anything without her being there.
‘When Neave placed Melody she didn’t say anything about Amanda’s total dependency on her daughter,’ I said. ‘It seems strange she didn’t reassure Melody, and it’s obviously upsetting her.’
‘Perhaps Neave didn’t know,’ Jill said. ‘Parents can hide what they don’t want the social worker to see, and Melody could have been covering up for her too. I didn’t manage to speak to Neave on Friday – she wasn’t in her office – so I’ll call her now and see if she is aware. Also, the contact supervisor should have included it in her reports if it is going on at contact.’
‘Yes, OK, thank you, Jill.’
It was the afternoon before Jill returned my call. She had a number of issues to cover. ‘I’ve just spoken to Neave. She hasn’t been able to see Amanda since Melody came into care so hasn’t been able to get any of Melody’s belongings. Neave thinks Amanda is avoiding her, and there’s a possibility she may be on the move again.’
‘I seem to remember that Amanda was being evicted.’
‘Yes, that was mentioned. I told Neave what Melody has been saying about her mother and she is going to observe contact on Friday. It will give her a chance to speak to Amanda and watch how she relates to Melody. Neave has received the contact supervisor’s report for Wednesday, but not for Friday yet. Apparently the contact supervisor noted that Amanda seemed confused and angry at times. Your name came up, as Amanda kept blaming you for some things, quite irrationally, including stealing her daughter’s clothes and putting poison on her hair. A few times she seemed disorientated. When she left the room, to go to the toilet or get a drink, Melody went with her so she could find her way back. At one point she appeared to have forgotten Melody’s name. But the contact supervisor also noted that Amanda was loving towards Melody and was able to show her affection appropriately. Neave feels it could be that Amanda’s confusion was a result of being in an unfamiliar setting and being flustered by arriving late for contact, or it could be that she’s still using. There was no smell of alcohol. She’s going to see how it goes at contact this week and then may ask for a drugs test if she feels it’s appropriate.’
‘OK.’
‘She asked if you can tell Melody that she’ll be there on Friday observing contact, so it doesn’t come as a shock.’
‘Yes, I will.’
‘Neave also said she’d requested a medical for Melody, so you should receive a letter in the post with details of the appointment before too long. She’s given your contact details to the Guardian ad Litem, who will be in touch to arrange to see Melody.’ This is standard for a child when they first come into care.
‘All right, thanks, Jill.’
That afternoon I prepared dinner for later – pasta, cheese and broccoli bake – and set aside a portion for Amanda. Melody had asked that morning if we could take her mother some dinner. Before I left I wrote a note for Adrian, Paula and Lucy saying what time to put the dish in the oven and the setting. I then drove to Melody’s school and waited in the playground for her to come out. She appeared with Miss May and the first thing she asked was, ‘Have you remembered Mummy’s dinner?’
‘Yes, don’t worry. It’s in the car.’
Miss