The Girl Who Wanted to Belong, Book 5 Read online

  ‘I’m very grateful indeed. I’m very glad she’s with you, safe and sound. It’s the right thing, for the time being. Thank you for having her at short notice.’

  ‘It’s our pleasure,’ I said. ‘We’re enjoying having her to stay.’

  Dean gave an appreciative smile. He looked exactly as I imagined he would from Lucy’s description. I guessed he was in his late thirties, and he had the air of being a humble, unassuming man. He’d put on smart clothes for the occasion, as had Wendy. She looked a bit older than Dean – early forties perhaps – and was tall and well built and seemed very self-assured.

  ‘Yes, we do appreciate it,’ she said curtly. ‘You are so good to take Lucy in the way you have. It can’t be easy, being foster carers. I know I couldn’t do it, not for all the tea in China.’

  Wendy smiled broadly but at the same time she raised her chin an inch or two, which made me feel like she was looking down on me. She gave Jonathan the same impression and we both felt slightly intimidated by her. Wendy had steel-grey eyes and hair so black it had a cobalt-blue sheen to it under the harsh lighting of the modern council office block. She looked like a force to be reckoned with, and it didn’t come as a surprise that Lucy was keeping her distance.

  Bella appeared and took Lucy to one side to have a chat, which is the norm before such a meeting. I knew the social worker would be explaining the purpose of the meeting again and making sure Lucy felt comfortable to sit in the meeting with the adults and hear what everyone had to say. Bella would also be asking Lucy again how things were going at our house, just in case there was anything new to report, and she’d be telling her that she might be asked questions in the meeting, and she should answer them as honestly as she could.

  When we finally all sat around the large oval table in the council office I felt extremely nervous on Lucy’s behalf. Lucy was seated next to her dad, who had Wendy on the other side of him. Jonathan and I were opposite the family, next to Bella, and there was a Social Services manager present, at the far end of the table. Jess’s mobile phone vibrated just as she was about to sit down opposite her manager.

  ‘Sorry, I should take this,’ she said urgently. ‘Can you excuse me for a moment?’

  Her manager nodded and began to examine some paperwork. The room fell silent for a moment and then Wendy turned to Lucy, looking her up and down.

  ‘New clothes?’

  Lucy was wearing the new joggers and tracksuit top I’d bought her at the retail park.

  Lucy nodded shyly.

  ‘What was wrong with your own stuff? Did you take everything with you?’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong with my stuff. Yes. I didn’t leave anything at Granny’s.’

  Wendy turned to me. ‘I have to tell you, Angela, I don’t like kids of her age wearing branded clothing.’

  I said it was pure chance that the clothes were Nike and explained that we chose them because they fitted Lucy well and were practical. I added that we purchased them at the very reasonably priced discounted sports store at the retail park, to make the point that we hadn’t been extravagant or paid over the odds simply to have a well-known brand. I also said Lucy’s old joggers were a little on the small side. ‘Kids grow out of things before you can blink,’ Jonathan said wisely, as the last thing we wanted to do was imply that Wendy was at fault in any way.

  ‘Yes, it’s not your fault. But she knows how I feel about labels, don’t you Lucy?’

  She nodded guiltily, lowering her eyes and pulling two handfuls of her hair from the sides of her face cross her cheeks, as if to hide herself as much as possible.

  Jess reappeared, made her apologies for having to take the call and sat down. I glanced at Lucy, who was now looking sideways at her father. She had a loving expression on her face but her father was looking the other way, in Wendy’s direction. No doubt he was concerned about her mood: Wendy did not look pleased at all, and she sat with her arms crossed tightly in front of her chest and with her face set in a stony grimace.

  After the manager welcomed everyone Bella spoke first, discussing how she had arranged for both Lucy and her father and stepmother to attend regular sessions at what she called the ‘Child and Family’ counselling group, in the county where the family lived. As the name implied, Lucy, Wendy and Dean would all attend sessions together, and Lucy’s siblings and stepsister Gemma might also be invited along, once progress was being made. Lucy would also see a child psychologist separately, for some one-to-one therapy.

  I’d never heard of the Child and Family group before but it was explained to Jonathan and me that it was similar to CAMHS (Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services), with which we were very familiar.

  Jonathan and I were asked if we could take Lucy there once a fortnight and I said that yes we could, as long as the sessions were early enough in the day so that we could be back in time to be home for Maria after school.

  ‘Yes, I can fix them up for mid-morning, and if you ever have any problems we can always send a car for Lucy, with a support worker to accompany her.’

  ‘Thanks, but we can take her,’ I said, as I thought it might be stressful for Lucy to go in a taxi with a stranger. There was no mention of Wendy and Dean helping with lifts, although it would have been a long run for them to collect her from our house, go to the meetings and drop her back to us before returning home.

  Bella moved on. ‘I’m pleased to report that Lucy has settled in very well with Angela and Jonathan. She is happy living with them, although she would like to return home as soon as possible.’ Looking at Dean, she added, ‘It would be helpful if you could tell me a little bit about what was going on at home, when Lucy was living with you.’

  Wendy snorted. ‘What was going on was that she was a manipulative little madam. Isn’t that right Dean?’

  Lucy’s dad suddenly appeared to be incredibly interested in his fingernails. He stared at them and began scratching at his cuticles nervously.

  ‘Well, I think that’s putting it a bit—’

  ‘It’s the truth. The problem was that Lucy played me up something rotten. Good as gold when her dad was around, but when it was me and her? Forget it! She turned.’

  ‘Turned?’ Jess enquired, keeping an even and professional tone in her voice.

  ‘Yes, turned. Told lies, bullied my daughter, stole her toys, demanded food, caused no end of trouble, I’m telling you. It was like she had a switch. When her dad came home from work she was as good as gold. Sweetness and light. Little angel, oh yes . . .’

  I looked at Lucy and saw she was pink in the cheeks. Thankfully, Jess cut in and stopped Wendy sharing any more of her forthright opinions. I’m glad she did or I think I would have stepped in myself, because Wendy’s manner seemed inappropriately harsh in front of the little girl. You should be focusing on improving matters, not making a meal of criticising and embarrassing an eight-year-old, I thought.

  ‘Mr Harrison, can I ask your view? How did you see things?’

  Dean looked flustered and Wendy shot him a look as if to say, ‘Don’t you dare dispute what I’ve said.’

  ‘Well, like Wendy says, when I was there Lucy was good.’

  He flicked an encouraging glance at Lucy and I could almost see her relax a little. Unfortunately, Wendy then piped up again.

  ‘She frightened me to death. That’s the reason we had to move her out of the house – because I never knew what she might do next.’

  ‘She frightened you?’

  It was Jess who asked this question. No doubt she was thinking about Lucy’s placement with Jonathan and myself, and assessing whether there were truly any risks involved in having Lucy living with us.

  ‘Yes. I’m afraid of her. Like I say, she can turn at the flick of a switch. She tells so many lies. My daughter was in tears all the time. Lucy ripped Gemma’s clothes and pretended my daughter did it herself. She stole her toys and hid them in the garden, in the dirt. I don’t know why she’s the way she is. There’s something wrong with her. I can’t live
with her, and it’s not just me. Her aunties couldn’t cope with the lies and all the aggro either, and nor could her grandmother.’

  I was becoming increasingly upset and angry about the way Wendy spoke about Lucy, but she didn’t seem at all concerned that she might hurt the child’s feelings or make matters worse. In fact, Wendy bossily asked for her comments to be recorded in the minutes of the meeting.

  Bella changed the subject to the issue of schools. She explained that she had contacted Lucy’s old primary school and established that she’d missed seven weeks of her education.

  ‘We’ve also requested details of Lucy’s statement,’ Jess said.

  Wendy looked confused. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She has help in the classroom, doesn’t she?’

  ‘Yes,’ Dean interjected. ‘She has help with her reading. She’s done really well since she’s had a helper.’

  Jess explained that we’d applied for Lucy to take up a place at St Bede’s and that we should be hearing any day from the head.

  ‘We’re hoping she can start next week,’ Jess said.

  ‘I’ll bet you are!’ Wendy chided, but nobody responded.

  It was my turn to speak and I talked about what Lucy had been doing and how well she had settled in. The social workers agreed that we should aim to have Lucy returned home by the end of August, to reduce the disruption to her education. Lucy smiled when she heard this: I could almost see her mind ticking over, working out that this was roughly three months, as we’d expected.

  Contact visits with the family were next on the agenda. There were no legal restrictions or orders in place preventing Lucy from having contact or overnight stays with any of her relatives, but at this early stage it was decided it was best if Lucy didn’t stay overnight in the family home. This arrangement would be reviewed fortnightly as the Child and Family sessions progressed, and it was hoped she’d soon start to stay one night, then build up to two and so on. There was some talk of Lucy being able to spend time in the school summer holidays with her grandmother; apparently this was something Lucy had discussed with Bella, and this would be looked at again nearer the time.

  We gave Wendy and Dean our home address and I said that in addition to having Lucy visit them at their home, the whole family was welcome to visit us, if they wanted to. Lucy’s happiness was paramount and I hoped that the more contact she had with her family the easier it would be for her to build relationships and ultimately return home. Social Services were happy for us to make these arrangements amongst ourselves; there was no need to ask permission, simply to let our social workers know what we were doing, which I did routinely in any case.

  The manager gathered up her papers and drew the meeting to a close. I sat there for a moment thinking about what had been said. I really want to have a word with Wendy on the phone before any visit, I thought. I decided I would have to suggest, as diplomatically as I could, that Wendy didn’t accuse or criticise Lucy to her face again. Hopefully, once the therapy sessions started up, the professional counsellors would give Wendy the same advice.

  Lucy hugged her daddy tight then said goodbye but she pointedly avoided any physical contact with her stepmother. It was not difficult to notice this; Dean headed out of the door leaving Wendy in the foyer with Lucy, who swiftly turned on her heel and ran down a corridor, saying she needed the toilet. I went after Lucy, waving bye to Wendy over my shoulder and telling her we’d speak soon.

  Driving home I wondered if Wendy was irritated by the fact Lucy had settled in with us. Somehow, I had a feeling she’d have been happier if Jonathan and I had joined in with her criticisms of Lucy, and this bothered me. Why would you want that? Surely you should be pleased to hear Lucy is behaving herself in foster care and that her foster carers are pleased with how she is getting along?

  Hopefully I’d got Wendy all wrong, but that felt like wishful thinking.

  Lucy herself seemed unperturbed by Wendy’s harsh words at the meeting, and she focused only on the positive.

  ‘Can I phone Granny when we get back to your house?’

  ‘Of course you can.’

  ‘Good. I want to tell her I saw Daddy and that I’m starting a new school.’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll love to hear your news.’

  ‘Yes. And I want to tell her the best news of all. I want to tell her I’m going home in the summer, after I’ve had my holiday with her.’

  ‘Well, that’s the plan,’ I said cautiously. ‘Everyone is hoping things will be sorted out by then, but we’ll have to wait and see because sometimes things take a little longer than everyone expects. I would tell her that is what we’re aiming for.’

  ‘OK,’ Lucy said rather vacantly.

  I knew very well that plans could change dramatically and sometimes in ways you could never anticipate. I didn’t want Lucy to be disappointed if she ended up staying with us for a little longer, or if she didn’t get to stay with her granny in the summer.

  Nevertheless, when she called her grandmother, Lucy stuck to the positive news and completely avoided talking about her stepmother or any of the negative things that were said.

  ‘Perhaps I should take a leaf out of Lucy’s book,’ I mused.

  Jonathan raised his eyebrows. ‘How so?’

  ‘Focus on the positives. At least Wendy and Dean came to the meeting and are going to attend the family sessions. Everyone’s pulling together, and even though Lucy’s been pushed out of the nest she still belongs at home; everyone acknowledges that. I’m sure it will all work out in time, with all the help the family is getting.’

  Jonathan said that, as far as he could see, this was a simple but sad case of a little girl who had become a casualty of dysfunctional family relationships. ‘Of course there are some thorny issues that need to be worked through – possibly issues we don’t know the half of. And Lucy does need expert help to deal with the behavioural problems she has, but that’s what the Child and Family sessions are there for, isn’t it? Everything is going in the right direction.’

  ‘That’s exactly right. And let’s face it, we’ve encountered far worse cases in our time, haven’t we?’

  We both thought about some of the problems our foster children had contended with over the years: appalling abuse, shocking criminal activity and devastating mental illness, to name but a few. She wasn’t in that situation at all, thank God.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ I asked Lucy that afternoon.

  ‘Really happy. I know I’m going home soon. I loved seeing Daddy. I’ll miss you when I go home, you know.’

  I took a call from Wendy later, asking if the whole family could visit on Sunday. I hadn’t expected her to call so soon but I agreed and we fixed a time when she and Dean would be able to drive to us, bringing with them all four children – Josh and Liam, who I now knew were definitely twins, plus Lucy’s little sister Milly and stepsister Gemma.

  When I told Lucy the news she was thrilled and started asking lots of questions.

  ‘Can I show them my bedroom? How long will they stay? Can they bring anything from home for me?’

  I told her she could certainly show them her bedroom and that they were planning to stay for a cup of tea and take her out for lunch. I said she could phone them any time she liked and ask her stepmum or her daddy to bring what she wanted from home.

  ‘Great, but can you please call her Wendy? She’s not my mum and it seems strange to call her stepmum. I’ve got my own mum. I’ll ring soon, when Daddy is in from work. I want my sticker album, my coloured pens, my teddy and my pillow.’

  ‘Pillow? I have plenty of pillows. Is it a special one?’

  ‘Yes. My teddy’s special too. I sleep better with them. I’ve missed them.’

  ‘Teddy’s special too? What sort of teddy is it?’

  ‘She’s a cuddly yellow bear called Honey. I’ve had her since I was a baby and she’s SO soft. I cuddle her so much.’

  ‘She sounds lovely. Tell me when you’re ready to call and I’ll dial th
e number for you if you like.’

  ‘Thanks. I can’t wait to see them all. Do you think they will be the same or do you think they will have changed?’

  I wasn’t quite sure how long it was since she’d seen her siblings, though I realised it could have been many weeks, depending if she saw them when she was living in the homes of her two aunties.

  ‘I don’t really think they’ll have changed too much,’ I said breezily.

  Lucy thought about this for a moment.

  ‘She changed. She used to be my best friend you know. She changed so fast. Do you want me to make this?’

  I’d bought a new shoe rack for the hallway and it was still in its box. It was one of those wooden-framed ones that snapped together and so I said I’d be delighted if Lucy could assemble it for me. As she began to tear open the cardboard packaging she started to tell me all about Gemma.

  ‘When we were best friends I used to go to her house all the time. That’s how Daddy met Wendy. She picked us both up from school when Daddy was working. The twins went to their friends’ houses and so did Milly, mostly, but she sometimes came with me and Gemma if Daddy couldn’t get out of work early enough.’

  ‘I see. So you spent quite a bit of time with Gemma after school?’

  ‘Yes. I went to her house for tea lots. We were in the same class too – Diamonds.’

  She explained in detail how all the classes were named after precious stones.

  ‘I used to be in Ruby class. Diamonds was better though. I liked my teacher. Everything was good, until SHE came along.’

  I guessed she was talking about Wendy but I wasn’t certain. I wanted to ask how long Wendy and Lucy’s dad had been together, and how long it had been since he was with his previous partner, Val. Was it true about all those awful things Lucy claimed she did? Obviously I couldn’t ask. I let Lucy steer the conversation around all kinds of topics before she finally returned to the subject of the family.

  ‘Gemma changed, she did. She started being horrible to me as soon as she moved in to MY house. She tells Wendy lies about me. She causes trouble. Wendy blames me for everything but it’s all Gemma’s fault, you know.’