Little Prisoners (15 page)

Just as well I was getting used to all this not sleeping malarkey.

Chapter 12

I had decided, during one of many bouts of sleeplessness that night, that the best time to tell the kids they wouldn’t be going home again would be the evening, after tea, when Mike and Kieron would be there. It felt important that we showed a supportive united front. I also thought it would be better to do it at a time when their Ritalin would be wearing off, so that they’d be better able to digest what we had to tell them.

I felt certain Olivia would be hugely distressed; not only about her mummy, but also about her precious ‘gwandad’ – he was definitely the person that she talked about the most. Ashton’s reaction, however, I really couldn’t call. On the one hand he was fiercely protective of his mother, but on the other … this was a child who calmly sat down and asked me if he could stay and live with me and Mike for ever. I wished I could see inside his mind and get a sense of what was going on there. Just as with our first foster child,
Justin – around the same age when he’d come to us – I knew he’d seen too much, suffered too much, endured too much to bear, and I worried the damage would be irreparable.

We had pizzas for tea and after we’d finished Kieron suggested we all play Monopoly. Bless him, I thought, as I got the game out of the cupboard. He had this uncanny ability to know the right thing to do. A nice family board game would create exactly the right atmosphere in which to impart the grim news that had been hanging over me so much.

Our Monopoly set was a special edition one, with cartoon characters for pieces and all set in a theme park. The kids loved playing it, and I loved that they loved it, because it was a good way for them to improve their woeful maths, something I was keen to address. But we’d barely been playing for fifteen minutes before it had to be abandoned, when Olivia, sitting between Mike and I and waiting for her turn, asked,

‘Casey? When will we see Mummy again?’

I glanced at Mike and Kieron, not sure how to answer. Now it had come to it, I couldn’t seem to find the right words. I knew Ashton was now watching me intently. ‘Um, well …’ I began. ‘We were going to talk to you both about that this evening. After our game, I thought, but …’

‘Just
tell
us,’ Ashton interrupted. ‘We
know
it was all in court an’ that.’

Mike cleared his throat. ‘Quite so, Ashton. Tell you what, let’s put the game on hold for ten minutes, shall we? And then we can tell you what we know.’

He hauled himself up – we were playing in a circle on the carpet, they way they liked to – and then picked up Olivia and popped her on the couch. ‘C’mon, mate,’ he told Ashton. ‘Cuddle up. That’s right.’

I remained kneeling on the carpet with Kieron, so I could talk to them at their level. My mouth was dry. ‘Sweethearts, it’s not good news, I’m afraid. The judge has decided that you need to stay in care.
All
of you. Your little brother and sisters as well. Which means …’ I paused, my eyes on Ashton, who was staring at me blankly. ‘Well, it means you won’t be able to live with Mummy anymore.’

‘What, f’ever an’ ever?’ Olivia asked.

I nodded. ‘At least till you’re 18,’ I said. ‘Till you’re grown-ups.’

She nodded slightly. ‘So can we live with Gwandad instead?’

I shook my head. ‘No, darling, that won’t be possible, I’m afraid. The thing is’ – oh, this was so hard – ‘that you won’t be able to see your family. Not for quite a long time now.’ Even though it was me speaking the words, I could hardly believe I was hearing them. How did you explain something as enormous as that? And, moreover, how did you deal with being
told
it? The silence in the room was deafening. Why hadn’t either of them reacted? I reached out and squeezed Olivia’s hand. ‘Which is very sad, I know, and I’m sure you’re all
terribly
upset. But it’s what the judge has said. Mummy and Daddy just aren’t able to look after you, you see.’

I looked again at the pair of them, sitting there, evidently digesting it, and then Ashton did something that completely stunned me. He smiled. And then he shrugged. ‘Okay then,’ he said. ‘We’ll just stay here, then.’

He then turned to his sister. ‘C’mon,’ he said, jumping down and returning to his position on the carpet. ‘I’m winning loads an’ I wanna finish this game.’ And Olivia, bright as a button, it seemed, duly followed him.

‘My turn!’ she said, reaching for the dice shaker from Mike.

We duly finished our game of Monopoly.

If I’d been stunned at the lack of reaction so, as the rest of the week went by, I felt it even more. I had been prepared for anything but this. Tantrums, tears, accusations, recriminations – since they’d been placed with us, these kids had been fiercely protective of and defensive about their family. And were it not for Ashton’s admission to me about the abuse he’d suffered at the hands of his granddad, you could be forgiven for thinking their
own
perception of their tragic early upbringing was that it was perfectly normal. I couldn’t even begin to work it out; couldn’t make any sense of it at all, and as the week drew to a close, I felt no more enlightened. I was also concerned that Ashton obviously hadn’t taken it in when I’d explained that they couldn’t stay with us permanently. But perhaps that too was a coping mechanism. They were with us right now, weren’t they? And with no-one suggesting any different, then perhaps that was good enough – enough for things around the house to return to normal.

Nothing in our house was normal these days, obviously – our norms these days being the constant battle against excrement being deposited in inappropriate places, the enduring shower-terror, the ADHD, the necessary vigil against unsavoury sexual goings-on – but, in terms of
our
normal, it was like any other week. In fact, measured against past weeks, it was a
good
week. The children were progressing well in so many ways, that it was as if they’d just blanked the whole idea that they’d ever had a family. It was as bizarre a situation as I’d ever seen. So all I could do was roll with it and await further developments, which I knew would be on the cards at some point.

And they were. The following Monday, I received a call from Anna, in what seemed like her never-ending quest to rattle my world.

‘Casey,’ she said, without preamble. ‘Straight to the point. I’ve been consulting with John Fulshaw and a police liaison officer about the recent disclosures Ashton made to you.’

Ah, I thought. Progress. ‘Good,’ I said. ‘I was wondering what was being done about that.’

‘Well, quite a lot actually,’ she said. ‘And we need some help from you. We need you to go back and have a trawl through your records and write me a report concentrating on all the sexual stuff. You know, all the sexual references the children have made since they came to you. Ashton’s recent one, obviously, but everything else too. Inappropriate touching, adult-type comments and so on.’

‘I can certainly do that, no probs. Who do I send it to?’

‘Email it to both John and I – and as soon as possible, if that’s okay, because I want to come up Thursday, if that’s going to work for you, to bring a police woman to interview them both.’

‘A police woman? You know that’ll scare them half to death, don’t you?’

‘She’ll be in plain clothes, don’t worry. Oh, and she’ll need to speak to them separately. And I have to tell you, though you can sit in, you mustn’t speak for them in any way. I’m afraid you really do just have to sit and listen. Even if it gets difficult …’

‘I understand that,’ I said, feeling a little narked at being patronised. ‘But don’t get your hopes up. I very much doubt if the kids will talk. In fact, I’m sure they won’t.’

‘Quite possibly,’ she conceded. ‘But at least people are listening. Which is a start. We’ll just have to see what happens, won’t we?’

‘I guess so. Oh, but one thing – should I tell the kids about this?’

‘I’ll leave that up to you. If you think it will help, then go ahead.’

‘Mind you,’ I said, thinking aloud now. ‘There’s Ashton. If he knows in advance, he’ll have time to prime Olivia. Maybe I won’t tell him anything.’

Mike agreed. When I put it to him that evening, he felt keeping schtum was the best plan. As he pointed out, Ashton was like a parent figure to his little sister. Which wasn’t surprising. Being the oldest, and in the absence of
proper parenting by any adults, she – and no doubt his younger siblings when they were still all together – naturally took her cues from him. And from what we’d witnessed since they’d been with us, my hunch was that he’d looked after his siblings, too. Making sure they got food, dealing with their problems, tending to them and comforting them if they were unhappy or grazed a knee. I felt a pang of sadness that, in all probability he’d be parted from them; go from much-loved big brother – which I didn’t doubt he was – to having no-one. It all seemed so
bloody
unfair. What had any of them done to deserve the cards life had so cruelly dealt them? Nothing. And it made me so angry.

As it was half-term, the week was turning out to be a busy one. I’d spent a good deal of time taking the kids out to places, to the park, to go swimming and so on, mostly accompanied by Riley and Levi, but when Thursday came around I decided we’d stay in. I didn’t want them over-excited or over-tired when the police woman came to see them, so I decided, since Halloween was fast approaching, that we’d have a day of baking, and got out my cake-making ingredients and my vast stock of food colourings. I had lots to use up because for our last foster child, Sophia, we’d put on a party based on the West End show
Wicked!
, so had just about every lurid colour imaginable.

We set about making a big batch of fairy cakes, which I told Olivia we could decorate with spiders and bats, and cookies in the shape of witches’ hats.

‘I am SO excited about Halloween!’ she told me, as she carefully stirred the cake mix. ‘Cos you know, Casey, at
Halloween all the mens and ladies give you moneys to give your mummy.’ She turned to me. ‘But you could have it this time,’ she finished brightly. Though not shocked, I felt saddened at the picture she had painted. Of these kids going out – being sent out most probably – trick or treating, and having to hand over the spoils to the greedy adults – modern-day Fagins! – who waited at home while they worked.

But at least they were free of all that now, I reminded myself. And could be children – proper children – once again.

The baking, as it usually does when children are involved, took far longer and made far more mess than was comfortable for me to live with, so by the time we’d cooked and cooled, cleared and washed up it was almost three. Anna would be here with her police woman any minute. Mindful of her need to interview each child privately, I decided to set a station up at the dining table for the children. That way, while one was being interviewed in the living room, the other would be occupied in the dining room.

The two women arrived punctually and declined my offer of a drink; they seemed keen to get straight down to business. And with Ashton first, which made sense, since he was the oldest, and also the one who’d made the direct allegation. And right away I could tell that the mission would be fruitless. As I explained who the woman was and that she wanted to have a chat to him, everything about his body language made that abundantly clear.

‘Hi,’ she said warmly, offering a hand for him to shake. He didn’t. ‘My name’s Lizzie and I’m a police lady and you must be Ashton. My word, you look very grown up for a 10-year-old!’ He stood and scowled at her. ‘And I’m here to chat to you,’ she continued, ‘about the things you told Casey about your granddad and your cousin.’ She smiled encouragingly at him. ‘Is that okay?’

Ashton remained mute and refused to sit down. I went and sat with Anna, in the corner.

‘So,’ Lizzie went on, ‘d’you think you could tell me what you said?’

Now in his line of sight, Ashton transferred his scowl to me.

‘C’mon, love,’ I said. ‘Why don’t you sit down by Lizzie?’ But he was having none of it. He folded his arms pointedly across his chest.

Lizzie tried another tack. ‘Ashton,’ she asked. ‘Tell me, d’you know what sex is?’

Ashton slowly shook his head, looking straight at her.

‘Okay,’ she went on, ‘tell me then, do you know what it means to touch someone where you shouldn’t?’ Once again, a slow, deliberate shake of the head.

‘Alright,’ she continued, ‘Ashton, can you tell me if anyone’s ever touched you on your privates?’ The response was exactly the same. This went on through a good half-dozen further questions, till it seemed clear to everyone that Ashton was determined not to talk.

And it looked like being a repeat performance from Olivia initially. Naturally wary of the strange woman, she
immediately clammed up. But it wasn’t long before her natural chattiness returned, which made me wonder if her only reason for not doing so initially was because she’d been groomed to expect trouble if she spoke up.

But with very little prompting, she seemed to remember those days were gone now and that, in Casey’s world, talking about things was good. Very soon in fact, she began to look as if she was having great fun. Yes, she knew what sex was, yes, people had touched her privates, yes to every question the stunned policewoman answered, accompanied by much girlish giggling.

‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ Lizzie asked her in response to these affirmations.

She nodded. ‘Shall I come sit on your knee, like it’s Santa?’

‘Well, you could certainly come and sit
next
to me, if you’d like to. That way I can better see your pretty face.’

‘You really a copper?’ Olivia asked, once she’d settled herself beside her. ‘You don’t got no numiform on.’

‘Ah,’ Lizzie said. ‘I see you’re clever as well as pretty. So,’ she said, ‘can you explain what you mean when you say touching? And who was it touched your privates, Olivia?’

‘Daddy did once,’ she exclaimed proudly. ‘He hurt my tuppence – you know, my pee pee? But he never meaned to. He said sowwy. He said sowwy, it was an accident. Cuz I was his bestest girl,’ she finished brightly.