The Silent Cry: There is little Kim can do as her mother's mental health spirals out of control. Cathy Glass
not a one-off. Too many children are bounced around the care system (for a number of reasons) and never have a chance to put down roots and have a family of their own. These young people often struggle in adult life, and feeling unloved can lead to drink and drugs or abusive relationships. Since I started writing my fostering memoirs I’ve been heartbroken by some of the emails I’ve received from young men and women with experiences similar to Shelley’s. Far more needs to be done to keep children in the same foster family or adoptive home so that they grow up and meet the challenges of adulthood with the confidence and self-esteem that comes from being loved and wanted.
Before I went to bed I checked all three children were asleep, leaving their bedroom doors ajar so I would hear them if they called out. I never sleep well when I have a new child in the house. I’m half listening out in case they wake and are upset. As it happened, Darrel slept through, but I woke with a start at six o’clock when I heard him cry, ‘Mummy!’
I was immediately out of bed and going round the landing in my dressing gown. The poor little chap was sitting up in bed, his round face sad and scared. ‘Where’s Mummy?’ he asked.
‘She’s gone to the hospital to have her tooth made better,’ I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘I’m Cathy. Do you remember coming here yesterday? You’re staying with me while Mummy is at the hospital, then she’ll come and collect you.’
But he wasn’t reassured. His face crumbled and his tears fell. ‘I want my mummy.’
‘Oh, love, come here.’ I put my arm around him and held him close. It was only natural for him to be upset, waking in a strange bed and being separated from his mother for the first time.
‘It’s all right,’ I soothed, stroking his head. ‘I’ll look after you until Mummy comes back.’
‘I want my mummy,’ he sobbed. ‘Where’s my mummy?’
I felt so sorry for him. ‘She’s not here, love. She’s at the hospital. You’ll see her later.’
But he wouldn’t be consoled. ‘Mummy! Mummy!’ he called out with rising desperation. I knew it was only a matter of time before he woke Adrian and Paula.
Sure enough, a moment later Adrian’s feet pitter-pattered round the landing and he came into Darrel’s room in his pyjamas, looking very worried.
‘It’s OK,’ I reassured him and Darrel. ‘Darrel will be fine soon.’
‘Don’t be upset,’ Adrian said, coming over to Darrel and gently rubbing his arm. ‘We’ll look after you. You can play with my best toys in my bedroom if you like.’
‘Wow. Did you hear that, Darrel?’ I said to him. ‘Adrian says you can play with his best toys.’ He kept them in his bedroom out of harm’s way, as Paula at thirteen months was still rather clumsy.
The offer to play with an older boy’s best toys was too good to refuse, and far more comforting than my well-meant words of reassurance. Darrel’s tears stopped and he climbed out of bed. ‘I have to take my nappy off first,’ he said to Adrian.
I knew from Shelley’s notes that she used baby wipes to clean Darrel in the morning, and then he went to the toilet. So once he was clean and dry, he stayed in his pyjamas and went into Adrian’s room where Adrian had already set out some toys for them both to play with. With the boys occupied and Paula still asleep, I took the opportunity to shower and dress. By the time I’d finished Paula was awake and jumping up and down in her cot wanting to be ‘Out! Out!’ so I got her dressed. I took her with me into Adrian’s room, thanked him for looking after Darrel and left him to dress while I helped Darrel in his room. Aged three, Darrel could mostly dress himself but needed some help, especially with his socks, which are difficult for young children – he kept getting them on with the heel on top.
By the time we arrived downstairs for breakfast Adrian was Darrel’s best friend and he wouldn’t let him out of his sight. I had to push his chair right up close to Adrian’s at the table so they were touching, and he chatted away to Adrian. I warmed up the porridge Shelley had made for him and poured it into a bowl. Before Darrel began eating he asked Adrian if he’d like some. ‘Mummy won’t mind,’ he said cutely.
‘That’s OK, you have it,’ Adrian said. ‘I’ve got wheat flakes.’ In truth, Adrian had gone off porridge and didn’t eat it at that point.
Paula was sitting on her booster seat at the table, opposite Darrel, and was far more interested in watching him than she was in feeding herself. He was a new face at the table and she didn’t understand why he was there. I was sitting beside her and kept filling her spoon from her bowl of hot oat cereal and reminding her to eat. Darrel finished his porridge and I gave him the fruit his mother had prepared. He gave us a grape each, which we thanked him for and ate. ‘Very nice,’ I said.
Mindful of the time ticking by, I shepherded everyone upstairs and into the bathroom to brush their teeth and wash their faces. It was quite a logistical exercise getting three small children ready to leave the house on time, but eventually they were all in the hall with their jackets done up and their shoes on. Paula wanted to walk, but there wasn’t time, so I told her she could walk on the way back from school and lifted her into the stroller and fastened her safety harness before she had a chance to protest. Outside she wanted to hold Darrel’s hand as he walked beside her stroller and he was happy to do so, finding the novelty of a little one quite amusing. The boys talked to each other as we walked and Darrel told Adrian he would be starting school in September when he was four.
We arrived in the school playground with a few minutes to spare and I glanced around for any sign of Kim, but she wasn’t there. The Klaxon sounded for the start of school and Adrian began saying goodbye to us all. Although I’d already explained to Darrel that Adrian would have to go to school, I don’t think he understood the implications, for he suddenly looked very sad. ‘Don’t leave me,’ he said. I thought he was going to cry.
Adrian looked at me anxiously. ‘You go in,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry. Darrel will be fine.’ It was possible they might see each other at the end of school, but I couldn’t promise, as that would depend on what time Shelley was discharged from hospital and came to collect Darrel.
Saying goodbye, Adrian ran over to line up with his class and I turned to Darrel. ‘I could do with your help,’ I said to distract him. ‘Paula’s going to walk back and she obviously likes holding your hand. When I let her out of the stroller could you hold one of her hands, please, and I’ll hold the other? She doesn’t understand about road safety yet, so it’s important she holds our hands.’
Darrel rose to the occasion. ‘I’m good at helping,’ he said proudly, looking less sad. ‘I help my mummy.’
‘Excellent.’
I undid Paula’s harness and helped her out of the stroller. As I did I saw Geraldine rush into the playground with Kim. Neither of them looked at me as they were concentrating on getting Kim into school on time. I still intended to call on Laura the following week if she didn’t appear in the playground. With Darrel on one side of Paula and me on the other, we made our way out of the main gate and began our walk home. It was a slow walk – very slow – but it didn’t matter, as it kept Darrel occupied and distracted him from worrying about his mother. He found Paula’s habit of stopping every few steps to examine something in detail very funny. ‘What’s she looking at now?’ he said, laughing. ‘It’s a twig, Paula!’ Or, ‘It’s another stone. You are funny.’ It was nice to see him happy, and Paula was enjoying his company, although I don’t think she understood why her behaviour was amusing. At one point Geraldine overtook us on the opposite side of the street, although she didn’t look in our direction.
Paula paused as usual outside number 53 and rattled the garden gate. ‘Baby,’ she said, recognizing the house.
‘Yes, baby Liam lives there,’ I said. I glanced at the windows, but there was no sign of anyone.
She took another couple of steps up the street and then stopped to examine a weed that was sprouting between the paving