Innocent: Part 2 of 3: The True Story of Siblings Struggling to Survive. Cathy Glass
they’ll believe me now,’ she said, an edge to her voice. ‘Either I’m innocent or you are as guilty as me.’ She smiled humourlessly.
When children first come into care there is a lot of activity with meetings, medicals, phone calls, updates and so forth. Then it tends to settle down until the final court hearing approaches, when a decision will be made on where the children will live permanently and tension runs high. The final court hearing for Molly and Kit wouldn’t be until the following year to allow time for enquiries to be made, assessments to be completed and reports filed. The next day Tess emailed with the date of the children’s first review and said the booklets I needed to complete were in the post. All children in care have regular reviews. The children’s parents, social worker, teacher (if they are of school age), foster carer, the foster carer’s support social worker and any other professionals and adults closely connected with the children meet to ensure that everything is being done to help the child, and that the care plan (drawn up by the social services) is up to date. Very young children don’t attend their reviews, while older children are expected to.
Molly and Kit’s first review was the following Thursday at 2 p.m. at the council offices. Sometimes reviews are held at the foster carer’s home, if the children have been placed in care voluntarily, the parents are cooperating and there are no safeguarding issues. Kit and Molly, however, were the subject of a court order and their parents hadn’t been given my contact details. I emailed Edith, my supervising social worker, and asked if Maggie could babysit again while I attended the review. She replied by telephone and said she’d ask Maggie, and also that she needed to visit me, preferably the day after tomorrow at ten o’clock. As my supervising social worker, she visited every four to six weeks to check I was fostering to the required standard, give support and advice as necessary, discuss my training needs and sign off my log notes.
Just after her phone call the landline rang again and a woman introduced herself as Tamara Hastings, the Guardian ad Litem for Molly and Kit. The Guardian, as they are known for short, is appointed by the court in child-care proceedings for the duration of the case. He or she is a social worker but independent of the social services and has access to all the files. They see all parties involved in the case, including the children, their parents and social services, and report to the judge on what is in the best interest of the child. The judge usually follows their recommendation. I’d worked with many Guardians before and they are normally thorough and objective in their appraisal and report. I thought that if anyone could discover the truth of what had happened at Molly and Kit’s home then she would.
Chapter Twelve
The review forms sent by Tess arrived – one for me as the foster carer to fill in and one for each child. Given that, at their ages, Molly and Kit couldn’t read or write, I would complete their forms for them. They were standard review forms, brightly illustrated to encourage the children to give their views on being in care. At eighteen months old, Kit was more interested in playing than the form, but Molly looked at it as I pointed to the questions and read them out. The first question asked if they knew why they were in care. Not really, only eighteen months old, I wrote on Kit’s. Molly said, ‘Because we kept going to the hospital.’ Which was interesting.
I wrote down exactly what she said but then reassured her that it wasn’t wrong to go to the hospital and she was in care to help her mummy and daddy. The next question asked what the child liked about living with their foster carer and what they didn’t like. On Kit’s form I’d written: Likes playing and going to the park, although he misses his mother. Unable to verbalize his feelings as only eighteen months old. Molly said she liked playing with the big girls (Lucy and Paula) and didn’t like not seeing her mummy. I wrote it down exactly. There were ten questions in all – some included emoji faces with various expressions, ranging from happy to sad to angry. I asked Molly to point to the ones that showed how she was feeling and I circled them. On the back of the booklets was space where the child had to sign their name and I helped Molly write her name and she looked very pleased with herself. I put the biro into Kit’s fist and helped him make a mark.
‘Mine’s better,’ Molly said.
‘Of course, you’re older,’ I smiled.
Beneath their ‘signatures’ was another space where the name of any person who had helped the child complete the form had to be entered and I wrote my name and role – foster carer. I would complete my form later when I had more time and then post them all to the reviewing officer in the envelope provided, so they arrived ahead of the review. The Independent Reviewing Officer (IRO) would run and chair the meeting.
Edith visited as planned and met Molly and Kit for the first time. She confirmed Maggie could babysit while I attended the review and that I should phone her to make the arrangements. We sat in the living room and as the children played she made notes on how the children were settling in – both from her observations and what I said. We discussed some of the issues that affected them, especially their illnesses. She read and signed my log notes and then produced a printed list of foster-carer training that was scheduled for the coming months. All foster carers are required to attend a minimum number of training sessions each year, and as an experienced carer I was expected to lead training too. So far this year I’d completed far more than the minimum, but I told Edith that while I’d fulfil my training obligations, I wouldn’t be taking on extra as I’d have to find a babysitter each time for Molly and Kit, which she noted. When I’d worked for Homefinders, an independent fostering agency, they’d provided a crèche for carers who were looking after babies and pre-school children so the carer could attend training. The local authority didn’t, and carers who foster infants sometimes struggle to meet their training requirements.
Edith concluded her visit by looking around my house and asking if there’d been any changes to my household, as she was obliged to do at each visit. All members of a fostering household are police-checked (DBS), even non-permanent members. So if, for example, Kirsty began staying at weekends, she’d have to be police-checked. It is intrusive and some might say unreasonable, but it’s to protect the looked-after child and something foster carers have to accept. Satisfied all was well, Edith said she’d see me at the review and, saying goodbye to the children, she left.
Tamara Hastings, the Guardian ad Litem, was the next professional to visit. She arrived smartly dressed in grey trousers, jacket and blouse and was of average height and build. I guessed her to be in her fifties. She had a quiet, confident manner and was clearly used to talking to children. She accepted my offer of a coffee and drank it while sitting on the floor, playing with Molly and Kit and getting to know them. As she played she also talked to me, asking how they were settling in, what they liked to do, Molly’s attitude to Kit and if they’d been ill at all. Clearly, she already had a good grasp of the issues that had brought the children into care. She said that if there was something we couldn’t discuss in front of the children she’d phone me, and she’d also give me her number and email address before she left. She said she’d seen Molly and Kit’s parents once and would be seeing them and the children again during the coming months. She then sat on the sofa to make some notes as the children played.
‘When the children were ill did you seek medical help?’ she asked after a moment.
‘No, I didn’t think it was necessary. Once they’d been sick they recovered quickly, and neither of them fitted or had difficulty breathing. Kit had a small rash on his stomach for a couple of hours, which I monitored, but it cleared up. I would seek medical help, even call an ambulance, if I thought it was necessary.’
‘I am sure you would,’ she said as she wrote. ‘I am trying to gauge the seriousness of these mysterious illnesses that both children suffer from.’ I thought the term ‘mysterious illnesses’ summed it up. ‘Aneta appears to have become very anxious about her children’s health. I am wondering if a less anxious parent might not have sought medical intervention as often as she did. Are you aware of the number of times she took