A Baby's Cry (12 page)

Ellie nodded but I wasn’t convinced she would. Ava gave Ellie a final hug and a kiss and then said ‘Bye’ to us all. She turned and went down the path while I put my hand lightly on Ellie’s shoulder – partly to reassure her and also to stop her if she tried to run after Ava. But Ellie stood between Paula and me and smiled bravely and waved as Ava got in the car and then drove away.

It was only after I closed the door that Ellie burst into tears. ‘I want Ava,’ she sobbed. ‘I want to go with her.’

I put my arms around her and, drawing her to me, sat with her on my lap on the bottom stair. ‘You go into the sitting room with Adrian,’ I said to Paula, for I knew Ellie’s sobbing would soon upset Paula.

Paula did as I asked, while I cuddled and rocked Ellie. She was relaxed in my arms, rather like a large baby. ‘Ava will be back in a week,’ I soothed. ‘And while she’s away I’ll look after you and keep you safe, just as she does.’

I stroked her hair, wiped the tears from her eyes and eventually Ellie’s crying began to subside and then finally stopped. ‘That’s better,’ I said. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. Let’s find the box of tissues so you can blow your nose.’

I gave Ellie another hug and then eased her off my lap and on to her feet. She looked up at me, her eyes red from crying but also wide and watchful as though on the lookout for danger. I’d seen that look before in badly abused children. They never completely relax and are continually in a state of alert, as though expecting danger to strike at any moment. It’s an inbuilt survival response and it can take years before the child feels safe enough to completely relax, especially in an unfamiliar setting.

I took Ellie’s hand and gently led her down the hall, and was about to turn right to go into the kitchen, where I kept a box of tissues, when Ellie stopped dead. She stared at the cupboard under the stairs and refused to walk past, as she had done on her visit the day before, only now I was aware what the problem might be.

‘You wait there, then,’ I said to Ellie, ‘while I fetch the tissues from the kitchen. Then we’ll deal with that cupboard.’

I smiled at Ellie as she looked at me, wide-eyed and questioning, and I quickly went into the kitchen for the tissues. The understairs cupboard was similar to those in many other houses, although I guessed Ava’s house didn’t have one; otherwise I was certain Ava would have mentioned it to me and the reaction it would have caused in Ellie when she’d first arrived at Ava’s house. Returning to the hall I found Ellie flattened back against the wall, staring at the cupboard door from a distance. I wiped her eyes and then gave her a tissue to blow her nose. She didn’t say anything but all the time kept staring at the cupboard door and looking very fearful. Who knew what thoughts were going through Ellie’s mind?

‘Everything all right, Mum?’ Adrian called from the sitting room.

‘We’ll be with you in a minute,’ I returned.

I smiled again at Ellie and then knelt down so that I was at her eye level. ‘I’m guessing there was a cupboard like this one where you lived with your mum and Shane?’ I asked gently. ‘Am I right?’

Ellie’s eyes widened with a mixture of fear and surprise; then she gave a small nod.

‘But I don’t think Ava has a cupboard like this one, does she?’

Ellie shook her head.

‘Paula told me you asked her if I ever shut her in the cupboard and she told you no, never. I believe she also told you that I store things in the cupboard that we don’t often use. So in a minute, when you are ready, I’m going to open the door and show you what’s inside.’

Ellie’s eyes widened even further as she looked from me to the cupboard and back again.

‘Only when you are ready,’ I said. ‘First I need to tell you something very important.’

Ellie continued to stare at me, so small and vulnerable. A lump rose in my throat at the thought of what I was about to say, although I knew it needed to be said. ‘Ellie, love,’ I began, ‘I would never shut you or any child in a cupboard. Not in this cupboard or any cupboard. It is a very bad thing to do, as I’m sure Ava has told you. Most adults would never do such a horrible thing. I want you to remember that.’ This would have been obvious to most children but not to Ellie. She had lived in two houses (to my knowledge) – her mother’s and Ava’s. In one house she was shut in a dark cupboard and in the other she wasn’t, so in Ellie’s experience there was a 50 per cent chance it might happen again.

Ellie’s gaze flickered to the cupboard and then returned to me as I continued: ‘Adrian and Paula will tell you that if they are naughty, which isn’t often, they lose some television time. That’s all. They are never ever shut in anywhere, or hurt or frightened as a punishment. It is a bad thing to hurt or frighten a child. Most adults don’t do it. Also, Ellie, it is impossible to get shut in this cupboard or any cupboard in this house by accident. All the doors can be opened from the inside.’ (It was a fostering safety requirement.) ‘Do you understand, love?’

She gave a small nod and I stood from kneeling. ‘OK, I’m going to open the cupboard door now and show you what’s inside.’

Ellie stared at me but didn’t cry or say no. Then Paula, having heard us from the sitting room and realizing she could be of help, appeared in the hall and silently slid her hand into Ellie’s. I smiled at her.

Turning, I took the couple of steps to the cupboard and opened the door, which had a magnetic surface catch. It opened with a small click as the two magnets separated and Ellie gasped. I looked at her and smiled reassuringly as Paula held her hand. I opened and closed the cupboard door a few times, showing her how easily it opened. Then I reached in and flicked on the switch for the light, which to my shame illuminated a real mess.

‘It’s got a light inside!’ Ellie said quietly to Paula.

‘Yes,’ Paula said.

‘Yes, it has,’ I emphasized, as I gazed at the contents of the cupboard, which I kept meaning to clear out. ‘The switch for the light is
in
the cupboard,’ I pointed out. ‘And the cupboard door can be opened from the inside simply by pushing the door. It’s not a good idea to shut yourself in any cupboard,’ I said, more to Paula than Ellie, who I was sure, after her experience, would never dream of playing hide and seek in a cupboard. ‘But I am now going to shut myself in this cupboard to show you I can get out.’ My amateur psychology said it would help exorcize Ellie’s fear of not only this cupboard but, I hoped, cupboards in general.

Ellie watched dumbfounded as I stepped over a box of vinyl records and to the side of a pile of bathroom tiles and into the cupboard. Wedging myself between an upright hoover and an old standard lamp I pulled the door to. I didn’t keep the door closed for long – only for a couple of seconds – and then I pushed it open. ‘Hey presto!’ I said, stepping out of the cupboard like a magician appearing from a magic box.

Ellie looked at me, still concerned (possibly for my sanity), while Paula laughed.

I repeated the performance. I stepped inside the cupboard, pulled the door to, and then pushed it open and leapt out, this time with a big ‘Hello!’ By the time I’d repeated the act a third and fourth time Ellie was actually laughing and Paula was saying, ‘You are silly, Mum.’

‘OK, show over,’ I said.

I switched off the light in the cupboard and closed the door; then, leaving Paula and Ellie still holding hands in the hall, I went into the sitting room, where Harrison was now asleep. I lifted him from his bouncing cradle and took him down the hall, where I settled him in his pram. When I returned, Adrian, Paula and Ellie were in the kitchen and asking for a drink, with Ellie apparently having walked past the cupboard without a problem. One demon exorcized, I thought, but how many others lurked in that poor child’s mind I could only guess.

I made the children a drink and a snack – they wanted a toasted cheese sandwich – which they ate at the table, while I looked at the notes Ava had given to me. Ellie’s routine was similar to Adrian’s and Paula’s in the evening, with dinner, bath and bed. Ava said Ellie was usually in bed by 7.30 and reminded me she slept with the light on because she was afraid of the dark. Ava wrote that Ellie was a good eater and liked most food but not Marmite or anything very spicy, which I fully appreciated, as many young children don’t like strong flavours. She said Ellie could take care of her own toileting, which was what I would have expected for a child of Ellie’s age. Contact with Ellie’s mother was at the family centre on Wednesday, from four o’clock to six o’clock. At the foot of the page Ava had written the contact details for Ellie’s doctor and social worker in case I needed them in an emergency. Ava had signed off:
I hope you all have a good week. Thanks for everything. Ava.

I folded the paper and put it safely in my ‘fostering folder’, where I also kept my log notes. Although Ellie was only staying for a week I would still keep log notes, which I would hand to Jill when Ellie left. She would pass them to Ellie’s social worker, who would put them on file at the social services. These records are kept and the child has a right to see them when they are adult.

Once the children had finished their snacks Ellie and Paula went up to Paula’s room to play while Adrian went into the garden to ride his bike. Harrison was asleep in the pram, so I took the opportunity to go upstairs and unpack Ellie’s suitcase, putting her clothes in the wardrobe and drawers in what would eventually be Harrison’s bedroom. When I’d finished I came out and looked in Paula’s bedroom before going downstairs. The girls were sitting on the floor in front of the doll’s house, playing quietly. Paula was doing most of the talking but Ellie appeared to be involved and enjoying the game.

After lunch, as the weather was good, I suggested we walk to our local park and the children agreed. The park was busy, as it was a Saturday in mid-summer. I stood in the children’s play area and rocked Harrison in his pram while Adrian, Paula and Ellie played on the apparatus. I noticed how timid and cautious Ellie was in her play. She went up to the swings or play equipment and spent some time watching other children playing before she was tempted to have a go herself. Even then she was very wary. Children who have been abused or neglected often have little self-confidence. Adrian and Paula, on the other hand, like most nurtured children, were confident in their playing, as they were in most things. Indeed Adrian had to be reminded sometimes to be careful, especially on the swings, which he worked far too high for my liking.

I was watching Paula as she ran back and forth across the rope bridge on the mini assault course, beckoning to Ellie to follow her. But Ellie had been standing at one end and watching for some minutes now, letting other children pass her and have a turn. I could see she wanted a go but daren’t take that first step on to the rope bridge, which swayed but was only a foot or so above the ground.

I pushed the pram across to the assault course and parked it to one side; then I offered up my hand to Ellie and she took it. ‘Come on. You can do it,’ I said encouragingly.

Gripping my hand she hesitated and then tentatively stepped on to the bridge, and slowly walked across.

‘Well done,’ I said. ‘Now you’ve done it once you’ll be fine to do it again.’

And the smile on Ellie’s face showed just how pleased she was with her achievement. Ellie, like most abused children, would gradually recover her confidence, although it would take years of love, support and possibly therapy. Emotional scars often run the deepest.

When we arrived home the children watched some television while I gave Harrison his bottle and then made dinner. Ellie was subdued, as she had been for most of the day, but had said she was all right each time I asked her. We ate around the table in the extension and then after dinner Ellie asked if she could have her sweets.

‘Of course, love,’ I said. ‘Ava told me you had them after dinner.’

Ellie went into the sitting room (going past the cupboard under the stairs), where she’d left her Cinderella bag, and returning to the table took out a packet of Haribo mixed sweets. She carefully opened the packet and before she took a sweet herself she offered the packet to each of us, which was really touching.

‘Good girl,’ I said. ‘It’s nice of you to share.’ Often when children have been badly neglected or abused they’re over-protective of their possessions and have to be taught to share.

I continued to watch Ellie as she took out the two sweets she was allowed for herself, and then carefully refolded the top of the packet and tucked it into her Cinderella bag.

‘Ava buys me a packet of sweets every week,’ Ellie explained quietly. ‘But I have to make them last, so I just have two a day.’

‘That’s very sensible,’ I said. ‘But as you have shared them with us they won’t last as long, so I’ll buy you another packet when that one runs out.’

Ellie looked appreciatively at me from across the table and then said in her quiet gentle voice: ‘That’s very kind of you, Cathy. Thank you. Everyone has been so nice to me since I came into foster care. I am lucky.’

I could have wept.

That evening, although I’d followed Ava’s routine for Ellie, including a bedtime story, and leaving the light on in her room and her bedroom door open, Ellie was unsettled. When I’d said goodnight to her I’d told her to call me if she needed anything and she called me often, although when I went into her bedroom she didn’t seem to need anything apart from another hug and goodnight kiss. Then she got out of bed a couple of times and came downstairs. The first time she asked for a drink of water but didn’t appear very thirsty when I gave it to her; the second time she didn’t really want anything and I took her back to bed and then sat with her until she fell asleep. It was nearly 10.30 by then and as I finally came out of Ellie’s room, Harrison woke. I went into my bedroom and fed and changed him but he wouldn’t settle. I guessed this was probably because he was aware there was someone new in the house and his routine was as a result a little different. Eventually he was asleep at 11.30 and then woke again at 2.30 for a feed. Then Ellie woke an hour later with a nightmare.