The Silent Cry: There is little Kim can do as her mother's mental health spirals out of control. Cathy Glass
the basket too. Paula reached out and began whining, wanting her ice cream straight away. ‘I have to pay for it first and take off the wrapper,’ I said.
We headed for the checkout. As we turned the corner of the aisle we saw Kim with a shopping basket on her arm, looking at a display of biscuits. ‘Hello, love,’ I said. ‘Are you helping your mum?’
‘Yes,’ she said, a little self-consciously. I glanced around for Laura but couldn’t see her. ‘Where is she?’ I asked her. ‘I’ll say hello.’
‘She’s at home,’ Kim said.
‘Oh, OK. Tell her I said hi, please.’
Kim smiled and gave a small nod.
I wasn’t going in search of her grandmother, whom I assumed was in one of the other aisles, to say hello, so we continued to the checkout. There was a woman in front of us and as we waited another joined the small queue behind us. Then, as we stepped forward for our turn, I saw Kim join the queue. The cashier rang up our items and placed them in a carrier bag, which I hung on the stroller. I paid and before we left I looked again at Kim and smiled – she was still waiting in the queue, without her grandmother.
Outside the shop I parked the stroller out of the way of the main door and gave Adrian his ice cream, and then removed the wrapper from Paula’s. I glanced through the glass shopfront and saw that Kim was now at the till. ‘Surely Kim isn’t here alone?’ I said out loud, voicing my concerns.
Adrian shrugged, more interested in his ice cream.
I threw the wrappers in the bin but didn’t immediately start for home.
‘Can we go now?’ Adrian asked impatiently. ‘I want to play in the garden.’
‘Yes, in a minute.’
I watched as Kim packed and paid for her shopping and then came out. ‘Are you here alone?’ I asked her.
She gave a small, furtive nod, almost as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
‘We can walk back together,’ I suggested.
She gave another small nod and we crossed the pavement and waited on the kerb. I was surprised and concerned that Kim was by herself. She was only seven, and while there is no law that states a child of seven shouldn’t go out alone I thought it was far too young. She wasn’t in sight of her house, she was by herself and she’d had to cross quite a busy road. A foster child certainly wouldn’t have been allowed to make this journey alone at her age, and neither would I have allowed my own children to do so.
‘Is your mother all right?’ I asked Kim as we began up our street. I wondered if there had been an emergency, which had necessitated Kim having to buy some items.
‘Yes, thank you,’ she said politely.
‘Where’s your gran?’ I asked, trying not to sound as though I was questioning her.
‘At her house,’ Kim replied.
‘And you’ve been doing some shopping for your mother?’ She nodded. ‘Do you often do the shopping?’ I asked after a moment, for she appeared quite confident in her role.
‘Yes, sometimes, since Mum had Liam.’
‘Does your gran not do the shopping then?’
‘Sometimes, but Mum doesn’t always like the things Gran buys.’
So why not ask her to buy the things she does like? I thought but didn’t say.
‘And your mum didn’t want to walk down with you?’ I asked as we walked.
‘She’s got a bad headache. She’s in bed, and Dad won’t be home until later.’
‘Oh dear.’ I could see Kim looking enviously at Adrian’s and Paula’s ice creams and I wished I’d thought to buy her one. ‘So who’s looking after Liam?’ I asked.
‘He’s in the pram, asleep. I wanted to bring him with me, but Mum wouldn’t let me. If she’s not up later I can make him a bottle,’ Kim added proudly. ‘I know what to do.’
I smiled and hid my concerns. This wasn’t making sense. If Geraldine liked to help, why wasn’t she helping the family now when they needed her? Laura was in bed, unwell, and Kim’s father wasn’t home. Why not phone Geraldine and ask for help? She only lived five streets away. We were drawing close to Laura’s house now.
‘What time does your dad get in from work?’ I asked her. ‘Do you know?’
‘I think it’s usually about seven-thirty or eight,’ Kim said.
That was three hours away. ‘Does he know your mum is unwell and you had to go to the shop?’ We’d arrived at her garden gate.
‘No,’ Kim said, and opened the gate. If I hadn’t been expecting Shelley and Darrel, I would have gone in and asked Laura if there was anything I could do.
Kim paused on the other side of the gate as she looped the carrier bag over her arm and took a front-door key from her purse.
‘Kim, will you please tell your mother I said hello and to phone me if there is anything I can do? She has my telephone number.’
‘Yes. Thank you,’ Kim said sweetly, and then hesitated. With a slightly guilty look she said, ‘You won’t tell Dad or Gran you saw me, will you?’
‘No, but is there a reason?’
‘They wouldn’t like it,’ Kim said. With a little embarrassed smile she turned and continued up the path to her front door.
I watched her open the door and go in. There was no sign of Laura. The door closed and we continued on our way home.
‘Why is Kim doing the shopping?’ Adrian asked, having heard some of the conversation.
‘Her mother isn’t feeling well.’
‘Would I have to do the shopping if you weren’t well?’ he said through a mouthful of ice cream.
‘No. You’re too young.’
‘So who would do the shopping while Dad’s away if you were ill?’
‘I’d ask Sue [our neighbour], or another friend, or Nana and Grandpa. But don’t you worry, I’m not going to be ill.’ I knew Adrian was anxious about his father working away, and he occasionally asked who would do the jobs his dad usually did, like cutting the grass, or about other ‘what if’ scenarios, and I always reassured him.
I paused to wipe ice cream from Paula’s mouth and hands, as it was melting faster than she could eat it, and then we continued up the street towards home. Perhaps it was from years of fostering that I instinctively sensed when a child might be hiding something, and I felt that now with Kim. What she might be hiding I didn’t know, but I had a nagging doubt that something wasn’t right in her house. I decided that the following week, at the first opportunity, I would make a neighbourly call and knock on Laura’s door – unless, of course, she was in the playground on Monday, which I doubted.
Chapter Three
We’d just finished dinner that evening when the doorbell rang, and Adrian and Paula came with me to answer the door. Although it was still light outside I checked the security spyhole before opening it.
‘I’m Shelley and this is Darrel,’ the young woman said, with a nervous smile.
‘Yes, I’ve been expecting you, love. Come in.’
‘This is the lady I told you about,’ Shelley said, bending down to Darrel. He was standing beside her, holding her hand, and now buried his face against her leg, reluctant to come in.
‘He’s bound to be a