Cruel to Be Kind: Part 3 of 3: Saying no can save a child’s life. Cathy Glass
responsible on a personal level to report the abuse, I had a duty as a foster carer to report any safeguarding issues. It was a part of fostering I didn’t like, but it had to be done. The social services would then decide what action, if any, needed to be taken.
After a restless night I rose early, fed Toscha, got the laundry on, had breakfast with Max and then at nine o’clock settled him with some puzzles at the table in the kitchen-cum-diner, while I went into the living room to use the phone. Jill and Jo had both returned from their holidays now, although I hadn’t heard from either of them. I knew there would be staff at the fostering agency, so I phoned there. A colleague of Jill’s answered and passed the phone to her.
‘Sorry, Cathy,’ Jill said straight away. ‘I was going to call you later. It’s been manic here since I got back.’
‘Don’t worry. Did you have a good holiday?’
‘Yes, but the day we returned my son managed to fall out of a tree and break his arm. Today is my first day back at work.’
‘Oh dear, I am sorry to hear that. How is he?’
‘Fine now. He thinks it’s great fun having a plaster cast on his arm, although he was in a lot of pain at the time. Just as well it wasn’t a foster child or I’d have had a lot of explaining to do!’
Jill was right. If your own child accidentally hurts themselves you’re obviously concerned, you seek medical help and possibly blame yourself for not being more vigilant, but that’s usually where it ends. When a foster child has an accident there are wider ramifications. As well as informing the fostering agency of the incident as soon as possible, it has to be entered in detail in the carer’s log, then an accident report form has to be completed, a copy of which is sent to the agency and the child’s social worker. The child is spoken to by their social worker to check that your account tallies with theirs, and if there are any inconsistencies or a suggestion that the carer(s) may have been negligent then more questions will be asked and their safer-caring policy reviewed. If doubts remain, the carers could be suspended from fostering or even barred completely, although this is unusual. In addition, the child’s parents, already angry and upset at having their child in care, are often quick to blame the carer for negligence or even of intentionally harming the child. It’s extremely stressful and worrying for the carer(s), who are probably already blaming themselves. Consequently some activities – for example, contact sports – are not usually offered to foster children to minimize the risk of an accident. The children are kept ultra-safe – safer than the carer’s own children.
‘So are you having a nice summer?’ Jill asked.
‘Yes. We’ve having some days out and activities at home on the other days. Adrian and Paula are staying with their grandparents for a few days just now. I collect them on Sunday.’ I wasn’t just making conversation; Jill, as my supervising social worker, should know what we were doing and of any changes in my household, even temporary ones.
‘They’ll enjoy that,’ she said.
‘Yes. Jill, there is something I need to make you aware of in respect of Max.’
‘Yes. Go ahead. What is it?’
‘Yesterday evening, when I took him for contact, only his mother was at home and she invited me in.’
‘That’s progress.’
‘Yes. In a way. Unfortunately her other foot is causing problems now and she may need another operation; her mobility is very limited. I made her a cup of tea and sat with her. She wanted to talk and at one point she was quite upset. She told me she’d been badly abused as a child by her stepfather, who has since died. She also said that her husband, Dan, the children’s father, has been making comments about Paris’s breasts and one night he’d gone into her bedroom and touched her breasts.’ I heard Jill take a sharp breath.
I continued by telling Jill all that Caz had told me and Summer’s comment about Paris being their father’s favourite. I then said that Caz had admitted Dan hit her sometimes, and I’d seen how scared she was of him when he’d suddenly arrived home unexpectedly.
‘Thanks, Cathy,’ Jill said as I finished. ‘I know there are some ongoing safeguarding concerns around the amount of supervision the children have at home, but I’m sure Jo isn’t aware of Paris’s allegation against her father. Nor of the domestic violence. Indeed, the last I heard the care plan was to return Max home before the start of the new school term.’ She was silent for a moment, then, ‘Max hasn’t said anything to you about his father’s behaviour?’
‘No. He hardly talks about his family.’
‘All right. I’ll phone Jo now. She’ll probably want to speak to you later.’
We said goodbye and I replaced the receiver with some relief that I’d made the call. It was out of my hands now. Jo and the social services would investigate further and take any necessary action.
I went to check on Max doing his puzzle at the table and told him I was going to quickly phone Adrian and Paula, then we’d go to the museum.
‘Can I talk to them?’ he asked.
‘Yes, of course, love.’
Leaving the puzzle on the table, he came with me into the living room and sat beside me on the sofa. I keyed in my parents’ telephone number and Dad answered. Even before I asked he said that Adrian and Paula were fine and keeping them busy. Mum was making them all a cooked breakfast before they went out for the day. He called Adrian to the phone first. ‘Hi, Mum,’ he said.
‘Hi, love. How are you?’
‘Great. Nana and Grandpa are taking us to a model village today. It has a real working train set.’ I could hear the excitement in his voice. I knew the place he meant; we’d been there some years before when he’d been much younger. The model village was the life’s work of a railway enthusiast. It was situated in his back garden and he had opened it to the public to raise money for charity. Adrian then asked how Max was, so I put him on and Max said a shy and polite, ‘Hello, Adrian. How are you?’
They only spoke for a few moments. Max seemed a bit awkward and self-conscious using the phone, so I guessed he hadn’t had much opportunity to use it at home. But he was satisfied and smiled as he passed the handset back to me. My father then put Paula on to speak and she said, almost in a whisper, ‘I miss you lots, Mummy,’ which choked me up.
‘I miss you too, love,’ I said. ‘But you’re having a nice time at Nana and Grandpa’s, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, but I still miss you. I told Nana I missed you last night when it was bedtime so she read me lots of stories and cuddled me until I went to sleep.’
‘Good. So that was fine then, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes. Nana is cooking eggs and sausage. Can you smell it?’
I smiled. ‘No, love, not down the phone. But I’m sure it smells and tastes delicious.’
‘Can I speak to Max like Adrian did?’ she asked, not wanting to be left out.
‘Yes, of course. He’d like that.’
I passed the phone to Max again and in his best telephone voice he said, ‘Hello, Paula, how are you?’
She must have said well for then he said, ‘I am well too.’ And handed the phone back to me. ‘She’s gone to have breakfast,’ he said.
Dad came to the phone and I thanked him for all he and my mother were doing, said I hoped the children weren’t wearing them out and wished them a pleasant day.
Before Max and I left for the museum I locked the back door, put Toscha out for a run and remembered the bag of fruit for Max to take to contact, as there wouldn’t be time to return home after we’d been to the museum.
The museum is on the other side of town. It’s only small and is staffed mainly