The Silent Cry: There is little Kim can do as her mother's mental health spirals out of control. Cathy Glass
move. New people and new routines. It was so scary. I felt scared most of my early life. I thought I’d got over all of that, but bringing Darrel here today brought it back.’ Which I thought explained at lot of Shelley’s apprehension and anxiety. ‘I’d rather die than let my little boy lead the life I had,’ she added.
‘He won’t,’ I said. ‘You’ll make sure of it. You’re doing a great job. Your social worker told me what a fantastic mum you are. I’m sorry your experiences in care weren’t good. It was wrong you had to keep moving, very wrong, but try not to worry about Darrel. He’ll be fine here with me and you’ll see him again tomorrow.’ My heart went out to her. Whatever had the poor child been through?
‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. ‘I worry about him so much. He’s all the family I have. I nearly wasn’t allowed to keep him when he was a baby. I had to prove to the social services that I could look after him.’
‘And you’ve done that,’ I said firmly. ‘Admirably.’ But I could see she was worried, and I understood why she had overcompensated. ‘Do the social services still have any involvement with you and Darrel?’ I asked, which again would have been something I’d known if the placement had been planned.
‘Not since Darrel was eighteen months old,’ Shelley said. ‘That’s when their supervision order stopped. It was a great relief. I was going to cancel my hospital appointment tomorrow when my friend let me down and said she couldn’t look after Darrel. But I knew I’d have to wait ages for another appointment and my teeth really hurt. I’ve got two impacted wisdom teeth and they’re taking them out under general anaesthetic tomorrow. I was really nervous when I phoned the social services to ask for help. I hung up twice before I spoke to anyone. Then I got through to my old social worker and told her what had happened. She was lovely and asked how Darrel and I were. She said she’d see what she could do to arrange something for Darrel so I didn’t have to cancel my appointment.’
I nodded sympathetically, and not for the first time since I’d started fostering I realized just how alone in the world some people are. ‘So who is collecting you from hospital tomorrow?’ I asked.
‘No one. I’ll get a cab here.’
‘I can come and collect you,’ I offered.
‘That’s nice of you, but I’ll be fine, and I don’t know what time I’ll be discharged.’
‘You could phone me when you know and I’d come straight over. The hospital isn’t far.’
She gave a small shrug. ‘Thanks. I’ll see how it goes.’ And I knew that given her comment about being self-sufficient she’d have to be feeling very poorly before she took up my offer of help.
Toscha had sauntered off and the children were now playing with the toys I’d set out. It was after six-thirty and at some point Shelley would have to say goodbye to Darrel and leave, which would be difficult for them both. The sooner we got it over with the better, and then I could settle Darrel before he went to bed.
‘I’ll show you around the house before you go,’ I said to Shelley.
Her forehead creased and she looked very anxious again. ‘I was thinking, if you don’t mind, is it possible for me to stay and put Darrel to bed? Once he’s asleep I’d go, and he wouldn’t be upset.’
Each fostering situation is different, and foster carers have to be adaptable to accommodate the needs of the child (or children) they are looking after, and also often the parents too. There was no reason why she couldn’t stay.
‘Yes, that’s fine with me,’ I said. ‘But we will need to explain to Darrel what is happening. Otherwise he’ll wake up in the morning expecting to find you here, and be upset when you’re not.’
‘Darrel, love,’ Shelley said, leaving her chair and going over to kneel on the floor beside him, ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’
He stopped playing and looked at her, wide-eyed with expectation and concern.
‘It’s nothing for you to worry about,’ she reassured him. ‘But you remember I explained how you would be sleeping here for one night while I went into hospital?’
Darrel gave a small nod.
‘Well, I am not going to leave you until after you are asleep. Then, in the morning when you wake up, Cathy will be here to look after you until I come back. I’ll be back as soon as I can tomorrow. All right, pet?’
‘Yes, Mummy,’ he said quietly.
‘Good boy.’ She kissed his cheek.
I thought Shelley had phrased it well, and at three years of age Darrel would have some understanding of ‘tomorrow’.
‘Shall we have a look around the house now?’ I suggested. ‘You can see where you will be sleeping,’ I said to Darrel.
‘Yes, please,’ Shelley said enthusiastically, standing. Darrel stood, too, and held her hand. He looked at Adrian and Paula, now his friends.
‘Yes, they will come too,’ I said. They usually liked to join in the tour of the house I gave each child when they first arrived, although obviously there was no need, as they lived here. ‘This is the living room,’ I began. ‘And through here is the kitchen and our dining table where we eat.’
As we went into the kitchen Darrel exclaimed, ‘There’s the cat’s food!’ and pointed to Toscha’s feeding bowl.
‘That’s right,’ I said, pleased he was thawing out a little. ‘It’s empty now because Toscha has had her dinner.’
‘I’ve had my dinner,’ Darrel said.
‘I know. Your mummy told me. What did you have? Can you remember?’
‘Stew,’ he said. ‘With dumplings.’
‘Very nice. Did you eat it all up?’
‘Yes.’
‘He’s a good eater,’ Shelley said. ‘He’s likes my bean stew. I learned to make it from a recipe book. I put in lots of vegetables and he eats it all.’
‘Very good,’ I said, impressed, and thinking I should make stew and dumplings more often.
We went down the hall and into the front room. Given that Darrel was only young and here for one night, I didn’t go into detail about what we used the rooms for; I was just showing him around so he was familiar with the layout of the house and would hopefully feel more at home.
‘We’ll bring the bags up later,’ I said as I led the way upstairs. We went round the landing to Darrel’s room.
‘It’s not like my room at home,’ he said, slightly disappointed as we went in.
I smiled. ‘I’m sure your bedroom at home is fantastic, and it’ll have all your things in it, but this will be fine for tonight.’
‘Yes, thank you, Cathy,’ Shelley said, frowning at Darrel. ‘It’s very nice.’
I then briefly showed them the other rooms upstairs, including the toilet and bathroom where the step stools were already in place. I made a point of showing Darrel where I slept so that if he woke in the night he knew where to find me. It helped to reassure the child (and their parents), although in truth I was a light sleeper and always heard a child if they were out of bed or called out in the night.
‘Thank you very much, Cathy,’ Shelley said, and we began downstairs.
We returned to the living room and the children played with the toys again. Shelley sat on the floor with them and joined in, childlike and enthusiastic in her play. She carefully arranged the toy cars and play-people in the garage and sat the attendant behind the cash desk. I thought that, like many children from neglected and abusive backgrounds, she’d probably missed out on her childhood and had grown up fast to survive. After a while she left the children to finish their game and joined me on the sofa. I took the opportunity