Innocent: Part 1 of 3: The True Story of Siblings Struggling to Survive. Cathy Glass

Innocent: Part 1 of 3: The True Story of Siblings Struggling to Survive - Cathy  Glass


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telling me what she knew about the family we returned to the living room where Paula, Preeta and the children were still on the floor by the toy box. Kit now had a toy shaker in his hand, but neither child was playing. Molly had her thumb in her mouth and was snuggled close to her brother. The room was unnaturally quiet considering two children were there, but at least they weren’t crying.

      ‘We’ll just have a look around and go,’ Tess said to Preeta. Then to me, ‘Do you have everything you need for tonight?’ She crossed to the patio window and looked out.

      ‘Yes, I think so,’ I said.

      ‘Nice garden,’ she remarked, then went over to Molly and Kit. ‘We’re going to look at the other rooms now. Would you like to come and see where you are going to sleep?’

      Kit kept his eyes on Paula, carefully watching her to see what she was going to do, while Molly had her head down, quiet, withdrawn and expressionless.

      ‘I’ll stay with them while you go,’ Preeta said to Tess.

      Tess nodded.

      ‘This is the living room,’ I said to everyone. ‘It’s where we spend most of our time in the evenings and weekends.’ Tess then came with me into the kitchen-diner where I’d already put the children’s seats ready at the table. ‘Do you know if either of the children has any special dietary requirements?’ I asked her as she looked around.

      ‘No, I don’t. I’ll ask their father when I speak to him later and phone you.’

      ‘Can you also ask him if they have any allergies?’ It was worrying how little I still knew about the children, and I was responsible for them now.

      ‘Will do,’ Tess said. ‘Apparently their mother often told the doctor she thought the children were suffering from allergies, but they changed on each visit, so if the child had a slight rash, upset tummy or cough, Aneta put it down to an allergy.’

      ‘The doctor didn’t agree?’

      ‘I don’t think so, but I’ll check with the father.’

      ‘I’ve made a cottage pie for dinner. I hope that’s all right,’ I said. ‘I assume Kit is on solid food?’

      ‘I would think so at his age,’ Tess said. She sniffed the air. ‘I thought I could smell something good. I’ll ask about food when I phone Filip. He wasn’t in any state to talk about that this afternoon.’

      ‘Do you want to see down the garden?’ I asked Tess. She was looking through the window at the far end of the kitchen, which overlooked the back garden.

      ‘No, I can see it from here. Let’s have a quick look at the children’s bedrooms and then we’ll need to get going.’

      I looked at her, concerned. ‘Bedroom,’ I said. ‘I hope Edith told you I only have one spare room. I’ve put a cot in there so the children will be sleeping together.’

      ‘Yes, that’ll be fine,’ she said, and we headed out of the kitchen-diner and down the hall. It was still very quiet in the living room. No sound of the children talking or playing. I didn’t show Tess the front room as we’d just been there, so we went upstairs to the children’s bedroom. ‘There’s not much space, but they can play downstairs,’ she said, voicing her thoughts. ‘It’s nice and light. How long have you been fostering?’

      ‘Twenty-five years.’

      She nodded and headed out. I quickly showed her the other bedrooms and bathroom. ‘You’ll need to cover Kit’s plaster to keep it dry when you bath him,’ she said.

      ‘Yes, is there a follow-up appointment at the hospital?’

      ‘I would think so. I’ll ask Filip.’

      We returned downstairs. Sammy, our cat, must have let himself in through the cat flap, for he was now sitting in the hall, trying to decide if it was advisable to go into the living room with strangers there.

      ‘Hopefully, the children aren’t allergic to cat fur,’ Tess remarked as we passed him.

      ‘You’ve got a nice bedroom,’ Tess told Molly and Kit as we entered the living room.

      Molly looked at her, worried and confused. Suddenly she jumped up from where she was sitting on the floor and cried, ‘I need a wee!’ But it was too late. A puddle formed at her feet. She burst into tears.

      ‘It’s OK, don’t worry,’ I said, immediately going to her. ‘I’ll mop it up and we’ll find you some more clean clothes.’

      ‘We’ll leave you to it,’ Tess said. ‘I’ll phone you as soon as I’ve spoken to their father.’

      She and Preeta said goodbye to the children and headed out.

      ‘Don’t forget the suitcase in your car!’ I called after them.

      ‘I’ll leave it in the hall,’ Tess replied.

      Seeing his sister upset, Kit now began to cry loudly. They both needed comforting, Molly needed changing again, and I had to mop up the wet before it soaked into the carpet. I heard Tess and Preeta open the front door and then my daughter Lucy’s voice. She must have been about to let herself in. ‘Hi,’ she said, surprised. Then, ‘What a noise!’

      ‘In here, Lucy, please!’ I called. ‘We could do with your help.’

      She came into the living room and, surveying the chaotic scene, threw her jacket onto a chair. ‘And I thought I’d left work!’ she exclaimed with a smile. She was a qualified nursery nurse.

      ‘Meet Molly and Kit,’ I said over their cries. ‘Can you help Paula calm them down while I get a bucket and cloth?’

      ‘I’m leaving the case here!’ Tess called from the hall. ‘Everything OK?’

      ‘Yes,’ I replied. I knew they needed to go. The front door closed behind them.

      I knelt down and set to work on the carpet. ‘Shall I change Molly?’ Lucy offered.

      ‘Yes, please. Hopefully there is a change of clothes in the case in the hall.’

      ‘I’ll take the case upstairs with me.’

      ‘Thanks, love.’

      Having seen his sister disappear, Kit began to cry more loudly and point towards the door. ‘Best go with them,’ I told Paula. She carried Kit out of the living room and joined Lucy and Molly in the hall as I continued to clean the carpet.

      At


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