The Girl Who Wanted to Belong, Book 5 Page 13

  I was relieved when it was time for Lucy to go to bed. I’d been watching the clock because the atmosphere in the house was so tense. I was tired, and I wanted the day to draw to an end.

  When I told Lucy it was her bedtime she snapped, ‘I was going anyway! There’s no need for you to tell me. Are you trying to wind me up?’

  ‘No, not at all.’

  ‘I don’t believe you. Now you’ve said that, I don’t want to go to bed.’

  ‘But it’s bedtime. Aren’t you tired? I know I am.’

  ‘No. And I’m NOT going to bed.’

  ‘Really? Well I’m not going to force you up the stairs.’

  Her eyes narrowed and I imagined she was remembering the night she bit her nails and put blood on the doorframe.

  ‘I’m going to finish watching this documentary now and then read my book. If I were you I’d just go to bed. There’s nothing exciting going on down here and you’ll only be tired at school tomorrow.’

  ‘I don’t care. You’re more bothered about school than I am. What’s the point of it? They don’t want me there, do they? Daddy doesn’t mind. He let me miss loads of school. Why do you care? What’s in it for you, Angela? You just want me out of the way during the day, don’t you?’

  ‘I care about you going to school because I want you to have a good education, so that you will have more choices open to you in the future. Do you know what you might like to do, when you are grown up?’

  ‘No. It’s ages away.’

  ‘I’m not surprised you don’t know. Most people don’t have a clue what they want to do until they are much, much older.’

  ‘So why are you asking me stupid questions?’

  ‘I’m asking you to try to help you. I want you to see why school is important. I know plenty of people who didn’t do very well at school and wish they could go back and try harder.’

  ‘That’s so dumb. You just don’t understand anything!’

  Lucy marched off to her room shouting, ‘I’m going to bed!’

  She was probably too young to take all this sensible, grown-up advice on board but I felt I had nothing to lose in trying to get through to her. Anyway, at least I wasn’t going to have another bedtime battle on my hands, although that felt like a very small blessing right now. The fact was, Lucy was deeply disturbed by what had happened at the Child and Family meeting. You didn’t have to be an expert to see that. She was in shock and she was distressed, and she was taking it out on us.

  No sooner had Lucy gone upstairs but Maria came downstairs, complaining about the noise Lucy was making in the bathroom. As soon as I opened the living-room door I could hear the pipes making a long, low whistling sound, and I knew this was another of Lucy’s attempts to wind us up. She had worked out that if you turned the taps on to a certain point then no water came out, but the pipes made a racket.

  ‘She’s done this on purpose to piss me off!’ Maria shouted.

  ‘No I didn’t!’ Lucy yelled back from the other side of her closed bedroom door.

  I told Maria off for using bad language and added, ‘If you’re right and she is trying to wind you up, then the best thing to do is not to let it get to you.’

  I tightened the taps, cutting off the noise instantly. Maria scowled and went back to her room.

  ‘I think I’m going to phone Wendy and let her know what’s going on here,’ I said to Jonathan, when I was confident Lucy was in bed and asleep.

  ‘What, now? Do you think that’s wise? Shouldn’t you sleep on it?’

  Jonathan is generally more calm and considered than I am, but he always hears me out.

  ‘I thought that and I’m really not in the mood to speak to Wendy, but she needs to know what effect it’s had on Lucy, having to sit there and listen to all that criticism. I really don’t want this to happen ever again. This is a huge setback. Who knows what damage has been done?’

  ‘I think you need to tread very carefully. She might well accuse you of interfering and then we could have another kind of setback on our hands.’

  ‘I know, but at the end of the day I want Lucy to go home. That’s more important to me than anything. If Wendy thinks I’m being a busybody I don’t care, frankly, as long as I get the message across that Lucy can’t be subjected to this kind of treatment ever again.’

  I started to get upset and angry once more, and Jonathan managed to convince me to leave the call until the next day and get some rest. Given the way I was feeling, this was a very good idea. I do find things always seem clearer the following day, when I’ve had time to think things through.

  I woke the next day to find that Lucy had wet the bed after a long stint of being dry. She was still in a terrible mood too, complaining about everything, dragging her feet and trying to annoy Maria by pretending to flick breakfast cereal at her and generally getting in her face.

  As we left the house she turned to me and said, very seriously, ‘I didn’t call Wendy those names. Gemma is lying, I promise. Why would I do that? I want to go home. I want to live with my daddy, and everyone.’

  I wanted to believe Lucy and I felt sure she was telling me the truth, even though I knew she didn’t always. This was too important to her, so why would she jeopardise going home by saying those things? That was what my instincts told me, but still I had to accept that I couldn’t be one hundred per cent certain she was being honest with me.

  ‘Lucy, it’s very important you’re telling the truth, do you understand?’

  ‘I’m not lying! Gemma’s the liar this time!’

  Lucy then clammed up and spent the car journey to school making an annoying humming noise and kicking the back of my seat. I felt like I’d already done a day’s work when I got home from the school run. I had a cup of coffee and a buttered crumpet with strawberry jam to give myself a boost and then I picked up the phone to call Wendy. It wasn’t going to be an easy conversation but it had to be done: I owed it to Lucy.

  Thankfully, she answered the phone straight away; I was ready for this and I didn’t want to talk to anybody else or have to wait for her to get back to me. Wendy sounded polite and friendly, to the point where you would never have guessed this was the same woman who had behaved so unpleasantly the day before.

  ‘How can I help you, Angela? Thanks very much for coming into the meeting yesterday. We needed you there. I was so upset by what Lucy had been saying about me.’

  I inhaled and decided to just go for it, with no beating about the bush.

  ‘Actually, that’s why I’m phoning. I found the meeting very upsetting I’m afraid, the way you all spoke about Lucy in front of her.’

  ‘Really? We were only stating facts, making sure everybody is fully in the picture.’

  When she said that the image of the christening photo, with Lucy obscured by Wendy’s arm on the end of the family group, flashed into my mind. It said everything to me about how she felt about Lucy. I had never seen her treat Lucy the same as Gemma or the other kids. At best she kept her at arm’s length, at worst she was actively elbowing her out of the way. I felt rage rise in my chest, but hopefully I managed to keep an even tone.

  ‘I found it upsetting that Lucy had to listen to you and Gemma saying she wasn’t wanted at home,’ I said boldly. ‘They’re harsh words for a little girl to hear, aren’t they? Her family is so important to her and she wants nothing more than to be back home again. She talks about it all the time. It’s her goal in life.’

  I told Wendy that Lucy had told me that morning that she definitely had not called her those names at the party.

  ‘To be honest, Wendy, I do tend to believe Lucy,’ I ventured. ‘She is absolutely adamant those words never came from her mouth, and I know how desperate she is for things to work out. I can’t see why she would derail things in that way.’

  There was a pause, and then Wendy said flippantly, ‘Oh yes, you’re right about that bit. Gemma has admitted she made that up.’

  I was absolutely flabbergasted.

  ‘She made
it up? But why? When did you find this out?’

  ‘Last night. She told Dean. I don’t know why she made it up. We’re talking about eight-year-old girls here, aren’t we?’

  ‘Yes, but this has done huge damage. Does she realise the implications?’

  ‘All I know is that I totally believed Lucy was capable of saying those things. She doesn’t like me and she’s never going to accept me as her mum. I was really angry and upset that Lucy could have said those things about me.’

  ‘But she didn’t . . .’

  I was stunned and I wanted to ask Wendy why she hadn’t got to the truth before creating so much pain for Lucy, but I sensed it was time I held my tongue or this could descend into an argument.

  ‘No, but she could have, and it doesn’t mean all the other things aren’t true about her.’

  This was beginning to sound like a playground spat. I told Wendy I was going to tell Lucy that Gemma had admitted she lied.

  ‘I’d just leave it if I were you, Angela.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s just going to cause more trouble.’

  ‘I don’t agree. It’s not fair on Lucy to be left in the dark about this, and if the two girls are being truthful with one another then surely that is the best foundation to move forward on?’

  ‘But Gemma only did it because she was trying to help!’

  ‘Trying to help? How could that help?’

  By this point Jonathan had appeared at my side and was miming at me to stay calm and wind things up, but I wasn’t letting this go. First Wendy had told me she didn’t know why Gemma had told lies and now she was changing her tune.

  ‘Bless her, she thought I wasn’t ready to have Lucy home, which I’m not, because she does scare me at times. Gemma thought that if she made something up like that then I would be pleased, because then Lucy couldn’t come home. Shows how young they are, doesn’t it? Quite sweet really, looking out for her mum.’

  How could Wendy say this in such a blasé and sentimental way? Gemma’s lies had had a devastating effect on Lucy and there was nothing ‘quite sweet’ about it. I swallowed hard and told myself to remain polite and evenhanded as I described to Wendy how Lucy had behaved since the meeting.

  ‘Well, it just goes to show that she isn’t ready to come home, doesn’t it? We’re a long way off. Dean says he can’t stand all the aggro, and it takes a lot to get him riled. Anyway, Angela, I appreciate you calling. You really do deserve a gold medal, putting up with all this. I must go now. Bye!’

  I was taken aback at how rapidly she ended the call and I only just managed to say goodbye before I heard the phone go dead. I slowly began to relay her words to Jonathan and tried to make sense of the conversation. As I described what she’d said I felt like I’d missed something. Could Wendy not see how unfairly Lucy had been treated? Did she not think Gemma’s behaviour must be addressed rather than explained and tolerated, or brushed under the carpet? As for Dean, I sincerely hoped he was not still blaming Lucy for the latest ‘aggro’.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ Jonathan said.

  ‘Totally. I’m calling Lucy’s social worker and our social worker. Everybody needs to know about this. Lucy’s future is at stake here.’

  I left a message for Bella to call me back but she didn’t. When I phoned again I was told she was on annual leave. I eventually got hold of Jess and told her everything. She said she’d try to arrange the next placement meeting as soon as possible, calling together everybody involved in Lucy’s care.

  ‘Thanks Jess. When do you expect it will be?’

  ‘I’ll make it my priority to fix it up as soon as possible, but I’m afraid it could take a few weeks as I’m taking some annual leave.’ Not you as well, I thought.

  It was exasperating. I would have liked the meeting within days, not weeks, but of course that was unrealistic, even without the social workers taking holidays. I thanked Jess, but when I put the phone down I felt very pessimistic. What were the next few weeks going to be like for Lucy? We were all going to be in limbo. Jonathan could see how worried I was and gave me a hug.

  ‘It’ll all work out in the end,’ he told me.

  ‘Will it? We were supposed to be helping Lucy move back home, and now she’s even further away from that than she was at the start of her placement.’

  13

  ‘Why should you care?’

  ‘Mrs Hart? Can you come into the office when you collect Lucy this evening? I’m afraid we’re having a few problems.’

  It was the school on the phone.

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that. What sort of problems?’

  ‘Disruptive behaviour. Name-calling. Annoying other pupils. Miss Heather has kept a log this week and would like to talk to you.’

  We weren’t particularly surprised to have received a call from Lucy’s school, because ever since the disastrous Child and Family meeting her behaviour had deteriorated even further at home. Telling her about Gemma admitting to the lies was not pleasant at all. Lucy pulled her own hair and kicked the wall, then she ran around the house yelling, ‘I told you I’d never said those things! It’s the same here, nobody listens to me! I hate it here!’

  I tried to be as positive as possible, telling her it was brave of Gemma to tell the truth in the end, but Lucy was having none of it. ‘She won’t get into trouble, I bet you! It’s always OK for her to tell lies, but it’s not OK for me to even tell white lies.’ I didn’t know what to say to that, because she was probably right. From what I’d heard, Wendy wasn’t going to discipline her daughter, and I couldn’t imagine Dean wading in and contradicting anything Wendy said.

  Lucy had begun to make it a nightly habit to set the taps at the point where they made the pipework whistle and clank, just to annoy us. She did this all around the house and Maria reacted every time. One night they’d tussled on the landing, pulling each other’s hair and calling each other names. Jonathan had to step in and separate them.

  ‘Can’t you get rid of her?’ Maria complained nastily. ‘Can’t she go back to her family? Oh sorr-ee. Her family doesn’t want her.’

  ‘Yes they do! It’s your family who doesn’t want you. At least I visit mine. You are only allowed to visit your gran!’

  ‘Ha! When are you seeing your gran? I’m seeing mine tomorrow, so there!’

  ‘Girls! That’s quite enough,’ I said sharply. ‘Both of you – stop talking! I don’t want to hear another word.’

  I had no idea what Maria knew about Lucy’s circumstances, or vice versa. I certainly never discussed any child’s personal details with anybody else, let alone another child in the house. I could only assume that, despite their differences, the girls must have spoken at some point about their families and how come they were in foster care.

  We sent them to their rooms to simmer down. I thought how sad it was that the two girls had so much in common yet clashed so much. I wished they could have been a support to each other rather than falling out like this, but I knew it was probably just wishful thinking.

  When children have suffered trauma and upset in their life it can take many years to repair the damage and for those children to display anything like ‘normal’ behaviour. Being empathetic is something a lot of children in care struggle with, because so much of their energy has gone into survival and self-preservation.

  Sadly, we’ve seen a lot of kids who never manage to escape the legacy of their past and find it impossible to form healthy relationships with other people, even those they have a great deal in common with, and even when they are adults. I accepted the chances of Maria and Lucy becoming friends were always going to be slim, but still we couldn’t have them fighting like this.

  At that time we were taught in our fostering training sessions to send kids to their rooms to cool off and so this is what we did. Nowadays the advice has changed and ‘time out’ is not as commonly recommended as it once was. The current thinking is that isolating children with behaviour issues might alienate them even more, while inclusion, dist
raction and encouraging communication are often far more effective ways of getting through.

  In addition to fighting with Maria, Lucy was constantly giving us cheek and backchat.

  ‘Can you go and clean your teeth now?’

  ‘I’ve already done them.’

  ‘No you haven’t because I know for a fact that the toothpaste has run out in your bathroom. Here, take this new tube up and please do as I ask.’

  ‘It’s like living with private detectives! Are you and Jonathan spies in real life?’

  ‘What do you mean “in real life”? You are funny, Lucy! I just want to make sure you clean your teeth, and I am making no secret of that.’

  ‘Like you care! You won’t even know me when I’ve got all my adult teeth! Why are you bothering to nag me? You wouldn’t even care if I had to have more fillings.’

  ‘Lucy, you know that isn’t the case. I care about you a lot and I want to make sure you are well looked after.’

  ‘But why? Why should you care?’

  Before I could answer again she began babbling, firing questions one after the other. ‘Why did you buy that toothpaste? Why didn’t you get the one we had last time? Why does it matter if I clean my baby teeth? They are falling out anyhow. The tooth fairy doesn’t care how clean they are. What’s the point? Did you have fillings when you were my age? How come Jonathan has got a gold tooth? Did it cost a lot of money? How much did it cost? If I have bad teeth, can I get gold ones instead of grey fillings?’

  She went on and on like this on every topic under the sun.

  ‘She’d test the patience of a saint, that one,’ Jonathan commented on a daily basis.

  ‘If I had a pound for every time you said that I’d be a rich woman!’

  I suppose the call from school saying they were having ‘problems’ was inevitable, given how Lucy was behaving at home. Jonathan came with me as Maria was going straight to a friend’s house from school and the girl’s mother said we could collect her at six o’clock, which was helpful timing. Lucy was kept back after school when all the other children were collected, and Miss Heather invited Jonathan and me into the classroom.