The Silent Cry: Part 2 of 3: There is little Kim can do as her mother's mental health spirals out of control. Cathy Glass
again.
Once home, Paula and I went straight into the garden and I played in the sandpit with her. It was nice being able to give her some one-to-one time again, and she enjoyed it. Mid-morning I settled her for a nap and continued my dissertation. I wondered if Samson’s social worker would telephone for feedback on Samson’s respite, but she didn’t. However, at lunchtime Shelley’s social worker telephoned to ask if I could foster a four-month-old baby they were bringing into care the next day. Reluctantly I had to say no, and I explained about my degree.
‘OK. Good luck with it,’ she said. ‘I’ll make a note on the whiteboard.’
‘Thank you.’
That afternoon Geraldine was in the playground again with Liam in the pram, and as usual she stood by herself with her eyes fixed firmly ahead. When the children came out I saw Kim pushing the pram towards the exit, but they were well ahead of us by the time we left the playground, as Paula wanted to walk. The next day was the same: Geraldine brought Liam to school in the morning and the afternoon. I didn’t know what this said about how Laura was feeling, but I had to believe that Geraldine and Laura’s husband, Andy, knew what was best for her, as they were close to her and had helped her through a difficult time after the birth of Kim. There’s a fine line between being friendly and neighbourly and being intrusive and a nosy parker, so I felt any further enquiry from me about Laura at that time would be unwelcome and probably resented. If Laura had been an old friend it would have been very different, but for now I just had to accept that Geraldine was in charge and knew best.
However, all that changed the following morning.
It was another fine day and we were walking to school. Paula, as usual, was in her stroller with the promise that she could walk back. As we passed number 53 the front door suddenly burst open. Kim ran out and down the path as Geraldine stood in the doorway. ‘Gran says can you take me to school today,’ Kim said. ‘She has to stay with Mum.’
‘Yes, of course,’ I said. I looked towards the open door, but Geraldine gave a cursory wave and closed it.
‘Is your mum all right?’ I asked Kim.
‘I don’t know. She had a bad night. Gran didn’t want to leave her alone, and my daddy had to go to work. We’ve been looking out for you.’
‘Is your mum sick?’ I asked, worried. I had no idea what a ‘bad night’ meant in this context.
‘Not really,’ Kim said, and looked uncomfortable. I knew not to question her further. She was only seven and I didn’t want to place her in an awkward position by asking questions that she couldn’t or didn’t want to answer.
‘I gave Liam his bottle this morning,’ Kim said proudly, brightening, as she fell into step beside us.
‘Well done. That was a big help,’ I said.
‘I don’t like helping to change his nappy, though,’ she said, pulling a face.
‘Yuk!’ Adrian agreed. ‘She still poos in a nappy,’ he said, pointing at Paula, and dissolved into laughter. He was at an age when he and his friends found toilet talk hilarious.
‘Baby Liam?’ Paula asked, leaning out of her stroller for a better look at Kim.
‘Hi,’ Kim said sweetly. ‘Liam’s at home.’
She took hold of Paula’s hand and we continued down the street with Kim on one side of the stroller and Adrian on the other. Adrian and Kim began talking about school and then a popular children’s television programme, while I thought about Laura. Why didn’t Geraldine want to leave her alone? It didn’t sound good, and I thought maybe this was the excuse I needed to call in on the way home.
Once in the playground I let Paula out of the stroller and she immediately crouched down and began examining the tarmac, poking her finger at a couple of loose chippings. It’s incredible what little ones can spot and play with. A mother approached me with a child of a similar age to Kim. I knew her slightly from seeing her in the playground.
‘You’ve brought Kim,’ she said. ‘Is Laura all right? I’m Fran. Our girls are friends. How is she?’
‘I’m not sure,’ I said honestly. ‘Her mother-in-law asked me to bring Kim to school this morning.’
‘I’m worried about her,’ Fran confided. ‘I’ve tried phoning and I’ve left messages, but she hasn’t got back to me.’ The two girls took skipping ropes from their bags and began skipping.
‘I’m thinking of stopping by her house on the way back this morning,’ I said. ‘We live in the same street. I’ll tell her you were asking after her.’
‘Oh yes, please do.’ She hesitated. ‘I hope I haven’t done anything to upset her. We were both relatively new to the area and seemed to hit it off as friends. But I haven’t seen or heard from her since she was in the playground that morning weeks ago.’
‘I’m sure it’s nothing like that,’ I said.
Clearly I didn’t know how much Laura had confided in Fran, and Geraldine’s words about not discussing Laura in the playground rang in my ears – although, of course, we were only concerned for her wellbeing.
‘Give her my best wishes,’ Fran said. ‘And tell her I hope to hear from her soon.’
‘I will.’
The Klaxon sounded and I said goodbye to both Adrian and Kim and watched them line up. ‘We’re going to see baby Liam on the way home,’ I told Paula, taking her hand.
‘Baby Liam,’ she said and chuckled excitedly.
I wasn’t excited, I was very apprehensive, partly from having to confront the formidable Geraldine again, but also because I wasn’t convinced I was doing the right thing in just dropping by. Perhaps I was turning into the busybody up the road – ‘You know, that woman, the foster carer who thinks she knows everything.’ But on the other hand I had a gut feeling that I should stop by and try to see Laura, and sometimes I think it’s best if we follow our instincts or intuition.
With the promise of visiting baby Liam, Paula walked faster than usual and didn’t stop to examine every little thing that caught her eye. ‘Baby Liam,’ she said every so often with a smile.
‘Yes, I hope we can see him.’ For obviously we might not be invited in.
Undaunted, Paula continued at her best toddling pace along the street until we arrived at Laura’s house. ‘Baby Liam,’ she announced, trying to open the gate.
I lifted the latch, opened the gate and we went up the front path. I parked the stroller in the porch and pressed the doorbell. I felt my pulse speed up a notch and my stomach tighten. I had no idea what to expect, and as we waited for the bell to be answered I prepared myself for most eventualities, including the door not being opened or opened and then shut in my face – most eventualities except … Geraldine answering the door in tears.
‘Oh. I’m sorry,’ I said, embarrassed and completely taken aback. ‘I’ve called at a bad time.’
She looked at me, a tissue pressed to her lips and despair in her eyes. I didn’t know what to do. My instinct was to hug and comfort her, but given her previous hostility I didn’t think she’d want my comfort, yet I couldn’t just walk away.
‘Is there anything I can do?’ I asked awkwardly. Paula looked at her, also concerned.
Geraldine shook her head and wiped her eyes, but fresh tears formed. Usually so capable, determined, even hard, her vulnerability shocked and deeply saddened me. With a heartfelt sigh she turned from the door and walked down the hall, leaving the front door wide open. I assumed she wanted me to go in, so I helped Paula over the doorstep and then once in the hall I closed the door. The house was quiet – unnaturally quiet considering there was another adult and a baby inside. There was a stale smell of burning as though food had caught fire. Geraldine had disappeared down the hall and into the living room.