The Silent Cry: There is little Kim can do as her mother's mental health spirals out of control. Cathy Glass
home or to their permanent carer.’
‘I see. It’s good of you to foster.’
‘Not really. I enjoy it. But I must admit I’ve been struggling recently to study and foster, with Paula being so little. Hopefully I’ll now have the chance to complete my dissertation.’
‘What are you studying?’
‘Education and psychology.’
She nodded. We’d now arrived outside her house, number 53, and Laura pushed open the gate. ‘Well, it’s been nice talking to you. Cathy, isn’t it?’
‘Yes – sorry, I should have said.’
‘Thanks again for helping me out in the playground. I hope I haven’t kept you.’
‘Not at all. If ever you want me to collect Kim from school or take her, do let me know. I’m there every day with Adrian.’
‘Thanks, that’s kind of you, but Geraldine, my mother-in-law, always does it if I can’t.’
‘OK. But if she can’t at any time you know where I am. And perhaps you’d like to pop in for a coffee one day when you’re free.’
She looked slightly surprised. ‘Oh, I see. That’s nice, but I expect you’re very busy.’
‘Never too busy for a coffee and a chat,’ I said with a smile. ‘I’ll give you my telephone number.’ I began delving into my bag for a pen and paper.
‘Can you give it to me another time?’ Laura said, appearing rather anxious. She began up her garden path, clearly eager to be away. ‘Sorry, but I’m dying to go to the bathroom!’ she called.
‘Yes, of course. I’ll see you later in the playground. I can give it to you then.’
‘Geraldine will probably be there,’ she returned, with her back to me, and quickly unlocking the door. ‘Push it through my letterbox.’
‘OK. Bye then.’
‘Bye!’ she called, and going in closed the front door.
‘Baby Liam,’ Paula said, pointing to the house.
‘Yes, that’s where he lives,’ I said.
‘Out!’ Paula now demanded, raising her arms to be lifted out of the stroller.
‘Yes, you can walk, but remember you always hold my hand.’
I undid the safety harness, helped her out and took her little hand in mine. ‘We always hold hands by the road,’ I reminded her. I didn’t use walking reins but insisted she held my hand.
‘Baby Liam,’ Paula said again, looking at his house.
‘Yes, that’s right.’ I glanced over. A woman, whom I now knew to be Laura’s mother-in-law, Geraldine, was looking out of the downstairs window. I smiled and gave a little wave, but she couldn’t have seen me for she turned and disappeared into the room.
‘Home,’ Paula said.
‘Yes, we’re going home now.’
We continued haltingly up the street with Paula stopping every few steps to examine something that caught her interest, including most garden gates, walls, fences, lampposts, fallen leaves, every tree in the street and most of the paving slabs. But I knew that the exercise would tire her out and that once home, after she’d had a drink and a snack, she’d have at least an hour’s sleep, which would give me the chance to continue researching and writing my dissertation: ‘The psychological impact being in care has on a child and how it affects their educational outcome.’
That afternoon, before I set off to collect Adrian from school, I wrote my telephone number on a piece of paper and tucked it into my pocket ready to give to Laura. She wasn’t in the playground and for a while it appeared that no one had come to collect Kim, for I couldn’t see Geraldine either. The Klaxon sounded for the end of school and the children began to file out, and then Geraldine rushed into the playground at the last minute and went over to Kim. Adrian arrived at my side very excited because his class was going on an outing. He handed me a printed sheet with the details of the outing and a consent form, and I carefully tucked it into my bag. I looked around for Geraldine, but she’d already gone. We joined the other parents and children filing out of the main gate and then crossed the road. As we turned the corner into our street I could see Kim and her grandmother a little way ahead. Kim turned and gave a small wave. We waved back. I was half-expecting Geraldine to turn and acknowledge us, or maybe even wait for us to catch up and fall into conversation, but she didn’t. She kept on walking until they arrived at number 53, where she opened the garden gate and began up the path. As we drew level she was opening the front door.
‘Excuse me!’ I called. She turned. ‘Could you give this to Laura, please?’ I held out the piece of paper. ‘It’s my telephone number. I said I’d let her have it. Is she all right now?’
Geraldine nodded, straight-faced, and tapped Kim on the shoulder as a signal for her to collect the paper.
Kim ran down the path and smiled at me as she took the paper. ‘Thank you,’ she said politely.
‘Say hi to your mum,’ I said.
‘I will.’
With another smile she ran back up the path to her grandmother, who’d now opened the front door and was waiting just inside, ready to close it. I smiled at her but she didn’t return the gesture, and as soon as Kim was inside she closed the door. With her short grey hair and unsmiling features Geraldine came across as stern. I was slightly surprised by her coldness, and it crossed my mind that she’d very likely seen me that morning through the front-room window and, for whatever reason, had chosen to ignore me.
Chapter Two
I saw Geraldine in the playground every day for the rest of that week – in the morning when she took Kim to school, and in the afternoon when she collected her – but she didn’t acknowledge me or make any attempt to start a conversation. Neither did she have anything to do with any of the other parents waiting in the playground, which was unusual. It was a relatively small school, and friendly, so that eventually most people started chatting to someone as they waited for their children. But Geraldine didn’t; she hurried into the playground at the last moment and out again, aloof and stern-looking. By Friday, when Laura still hadn’t reappeared, I began to wonder if she was ill. She’d had a funny turn earlier in the week, on her first outing with Liam – perhaps she’d been sickening for something and was really poorly. Although Geraldine apparently didn’t want anything to do with me, Laura hadn’t been so hostile, and given that we lived in the same street and our children attended the same school I felt it would be neighbourly of me to ask how she was. If you are feeling unwell and someone asks after you it can be a real pick-me-up. So on Friday afternoon when Geraldine collected Kim from school I intercepted her as she hurried out of the playground.
‘I was wondering how Laura was,’ I said. ‘I’m Cathy. I live in the same street.’
‘Yes, I know who you are,’ she said stiffly. ‘Laura is fine, thank you. Why do you ask?’ Which seemed an odd question.
‘When I last saw Laura she wasn’t feeling so good. She came over a bit hot and wobbly. I wondered if she was all right now.’
‘Oh, that. It was nothing,’ Geraldine said dismissively. ‘It was far too soon for her to be going out and she realizes that now.’
I gave a small nod. ‘As long as she’s not ill.’
‘No, of course not,’ she said bluntly.
‘Good. Well, if she ever fancies a change of scenery and a coffee, she knows where I live.’
‘Oh, she won’t be up to that for a long while,’