The Saddest Girl in the World (3 page)

I nodded. ‘What a worry for you!’

‘Yes, it is. Chelsea hasn't been in school for months,’ Edna continued, shaking her head sadly. ‘And she told me that Mr Bajan hadn't been taking his medication again. He's been diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic, and if he doesn't take his medication he becomes very delusional and sometimes violent. I explained to him that he must keep taking it and that if he didn't I would have to have him sectioned again. He was very cooperative, but I don't suppose he will remember what I said. When he is taking the tablets he functions normally, and then because he feels better he thinks he doesn't need the tablets any more, he stops taking them, and becomes ill again.’

I thought what a lot Donna and her family had had to cope with, and I again glanced down the garden, where Donna was still laboriously pushing Paula on the swing.

‘Donna's mum, Rita, has a drink problem,’ Edna continued, following my gaze, ‘and possibly drug abuse, although we don't know for sure. The house is absolutely filthy, a health hazard, and I've had the council in a number of times to fumigate it. Rita can't keep it clean. I've shown
her how to clean, many times, but there's always cat and dog mess on the floors, as they encourage strays in. Instead of clearing up the mess, they throw newspaper down to cover it. The whole house stinks. They have broken the new bath I had put in, and the cooker I gave Rita a grant for has never been connected. There is no sign of the table and chairs I had delivered, nor the beds I ordered. The children were sleeping on an old mattress — all of them on one. There's nothing on the floors but old newspaper, and most of the windows have been smashed at one time or another. Rita phones me each time one is broken and I have to make arrangements to have it repaired. There is never any food in the house, and Warren and Jason, Donna's brothers, were running riot on the estate. Neighbours have repeatedly complained about the family, and also about the screaming and shouting coming from the house when Mr Bajan is there.’

I nodded again, and we both looked down the garden, where Donna was still pushing Paula on the swing.

‘Mr Bajan is Donna's father and also the father of Warren and Jason, according to the birth certificates, although I have my doubts,’ Edna said. ‘Chelsea has a different father who has never been named, but she looks like Donna — more than Donna looks like the boys. Mr Bajan has dual heritage and his mother is originally from Barbados. She lives on the same estate and has helped the family as much as she can. I asked her if she could look after the children, but at her age she didn't feel up to it, which is understandable. She's not in the best of health herself and goes back to visit her family in Barbados for some of the winter. She's a lovely lady, but like the rest of the family blames me for bringing the children into care.’

Edna paused and let out another sigh. ‘But what could I do, Cathy? The family situation was getting worse, not better. When I first took Donna and her brothers into care they all had head lice, and fleas, and the two boys had worms. I told their mother and she just shrugged. I can't seem to get through to Rita.’

‘So what are the long-term plans for the children?’ I asked.

‘We have ICOs’ — Edna was referring to Interim Court Orders — ‘for Donna and the boys. I'll apply to the court to renew them, and then see how it goes. Having the children taken into care might give Rita the wake-up call she needs to get herself on track. I hope so; otherwise I'll have no alternative but to apply for a Full Care Order and keep the children in long-term foster care. I'm sure Rita loves her children in her own way but she can't look after them or run a house. I wanted to remove Chelsea too, but she is refusing, and in some ways it's almost too late. Chelsea is rather a one for the boys, and mum can't see that it's wrong for a fourteen-year-old to be sleeping with her boyfriend. In fact Rita encourages it — she lets Chelsea's boyfriend sleep with her at their house and has put Chelsea on the pill. I've told Rita that under-age sex is illegal but she laughs. Rita was pregnant with Chelsea at fifteen and can't see anything wrong in it. She's spent most of her life having children — apart from Chelsea, Donna, and the boys she's had three miscarriages to my knowledge.’

I shuddered. ‘How dreadfully sad.’

‘It is. It would be best if Rita didn't have any more wee babies and I'm trying to persuade her to be sterilised, but I'm not getting anywhere at present. She has learning
difficulties like Donna and Chelsea. Warren and Jason are quite bright — in fact Warren is very bright. He taught himself to read as soon as he started school and had access to books.’

‘Really? That's amazing,’ I said, impressed.

Edna nodded, and then looked at me carefully. ‘You won't give up on Donna, will you, Cathy? She's a good kid really, and I don't know what's gone wrong.’

‘No, of course I won't,’ I reassured her. ‘I'm sure she'll settle. I've taken an immediate liking to Donna and so has Paula by the look of it. ’ We both glanced down the garden again. ‘Although from what you've said Donna is going to miss her brothers,’ I added.

‘I think Donna is blaming herself for the three of them being taken in care,’ Edna said. ‘Donna was the one who looked after Warren and Jason, and tried to do the housework. Chelsea was always out, and mum sleeps for most of the day when she's been drinking. But you can't expect a ten-year-old to bring up two children and run a house. Donna blames herself, and the rest of the family blame me. Rita hit me the last time I was there. I've told her if she does it again I'll call the police and have her arrested.’ Not for the first time I wondered at the danger social workers were expected to place themselves in as a routine part of their jobs.

We both looked down the garden. Paula was off the swing now, talking to Donna, who was standing with her arms folded, head cocked slightly to one side. She had the stance of a mother listening to her child with assumed patience, rather than that of a ten-year-old.

‘Donna and her brothers will be seeing their parents three times a week,’ Edna said. ‘Monday, Wednesday and
Friday, five to six thirty, although I've cancelled tonight's contact. I'm supervising the contact at our office in Brampton Road for now, until a space is free at the family centre. Do you know where that is?’

‘Yes.’ I nodded.

‘Will you be able to take and collect Donna for contact?’

‘Yes, I will.’

‘Good. Thanks. Rita is angry but you shouldn't have to meet her. I'll bring the placement forms with me this evening when I move Donna. It's going to be after six o'clock by the time we arrive. Ray wants to be there when Donna leaves in case there is a problem. He doesn't finish work until five thirty. And Mary has asked that I keep Donna away for the afternoon. She said she will pack her things and have them ready for five thirty.’ Edna sighed again. ‘Donna will have to come with me to the office for the afternoon, and I'll find her some crayons and paper to keep her busy. Really, Cathy, she's a good girl.’

‘I'm sure she is,’ I said. ‘It's a pity she can't come with us to the park this afternoon.’ But we both knew that couldn't happen, as until all the placement forms had been signed that evening I was not officially Donna's foster carer.

‘I think that's all then, Cathy,’ Edna said. ‘I can't think of anything else at present.’

‘Food?’ I asked. ‘Does Donna have any special dietary requirements?’

‘No, and she likes most things. There are no health concerns either. Well, not physical, at least.’ I looked at her questioningly and she shrugged. ‘Mary said she thought Donna was suffering from OCD.’

‘OCD?’ I asked.

‘Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.’

‘Oh, I see,’ I said, surprised. ‘Why does she think that?’

‘Apparently she keeps washing her hands.’ Edna gave one of her characteristic sighs. ‘I don't know, Cathy. You seem pretty sensible. I'm sure you'll notice if there is anything untoward.’

‘It's probably just nerves,’ I offered.

‘Yes. Anyway, we'll leave you to go to the park now. Thanks for taking Donna and sorry it's such short notice. I know I have to phone Jill and update her later.’

‘Yes please. Would Donna like to look around the house before you go?’

Edna nodded. ‘We'll give her a tour, but don't expect much in the way of response.’

‘No,’ I said, smiling. ‘Don't worry. I'm sure she'll soon thaw out when she moves in.’ Edna seemed to need more reassurance than I did, and I thought that over the three years she had worked with the family she had probably built up quite a bond with the children. She appeared to have a particularly soft spot for Donna, and I could see why: Donna was crying out for love and attention, although she didn't know it.

I stood and went to the French windows. ‘Paula!’ I called from the step. ‘Donna has to go now.’

I saw Paula relay this to Donna, who was still standing, arms folded and head lowered, not looking at Paula. Donna didn't make a move, so I guessed Paula repeated it; then I watched as Paula slipped her hand into Donna's and began to lead her up the garden and towards the house. It was sad and almost comical to see little Paula in charge of, and leading, this big girl, and Donna walking a pace behind her, allowing herself to be led.

‘Good girls,’ I said, as they arrived.

Paula grinned but Donna kept her eyes down and carefully trained away from mine.

‘Cathy is going to show us around now, Donna,’ Edna said brightly. ‘Then we must be going.’

‘Can I come to show Donna around?’ Paula asked.

‘Yes, of course.’ I smiled at her, and looked at Donna, but she didn't look up, and sidled closer to Edna, taking comfort in her familiar presence in what was for her an unfamiliar house. I could see that Donna thought a lot of Edna, as Edna did of Donna.

I gave them a quick tour of the downstairs of the house and pointed out where all the toys were. As we entered each room Edna said, ‘This is nice, isn't it, Donna?’ trying to spark some interest. Donna managed a small nod but nothing else, and I wasn't expecting any more, for clearly and unsurprisingly she was finding all this very difficult. She didn't raise her eyes high enough to see any of the rooms we went into. As we entered what was to be her bedroom and Edna said, ‘This is nice, isn't it?’ Donna managed a small grunt, and I thought for a second she was going to look up, but instead she snuggled closer to Edna, and it was left to Paula to comment on the view out of the bedroom window.

‘Look, you can see the swings in the garden,’ Paula called, going over to the window. ‘And next door's garden. They've got children and they come round and play sometimes.’

Donna gave a small nod, but I thought she looked sadder than ever. I wondered if that was because she was going to have to settle into what would be her third bedroom in under a month; or perhaps it was because of the mention of ‘children’ and the realisation that she wouldn't be playing with her brothers on a daily basis.

‘It will look lovely when you have your things in here, Donna,’ Edna said encouragingly. Donna didn't say anything and Edna looked at me. ‘Thank you for showing us around, Cathy. I think it's time we went now. We've got a lot to do.’

Edna led the way out of the bedroom with Donna at her heels, and Paula and me following. Paula tucked her hand into mine and gave it a squeeze; I looked at her.

‘Doesn't she like her bedroom?’ Paula asked quietly, but not quietly enough; I knew Donna had heard.

‘Yes, but I'm sure it must seem very strange to begin with. You're lucky: you've never had to move. Don't worry, we'll soon make her feel welcome.’

Paula came with me to the front door to see Edna and Donna out. ‘Say goodbye to Adrian for me,’ Edna said. ‘Donna and I will see you as soon after six o'clock as we can make it. Is that all right with you?’

‘Yes. We'll be looking forward to it.’

‘Bye, Donna,’ Paula said as I opened the door and they stepped out. ‘See you later.’

Edna looked back and smiled, but Donna kept going. Once they had disappeared along the pavement towards Edna's car, I closed the door and felt relief run through me. Although Donna wasn't the disruptive child I had thought she might be, kicking, screaming and shouting abuse, the weight of her unhappiness was so tangible it was as exhausting as any outward disturbing or challenging behaviour.

Paula followed me down the hall and towards the French windows to call Adrian in. ‘Do you think Donna will want to play with me?’ she asked.

‘Yes, I am sure she will, love. She's a bit shy at present.’

‘I'll make her happy playing with me,’ she said. ‘We can have lots of fun.’

I smiled and nodded, but I thought that it would be a long time before Donna had genuine and heartfelt fun, although she might well go through the motions and cooperate with Paula, as she had done when pushing the swing. Despite all Edna had told me about Donna's family, the circumstances for bringing her and her brothers into care and now moving her to me, I was really none the wiser as to why she was having to move and why she was so withdrawn. But one thing I was certain of was that Donna carried a heavy burden in her heart which she wasn't going to surrender easily.

W
ith Adrian pushing his bike along the pavement, and Paula her doll's pram, we made a somewhat faltering journey to our local park. I always insisted that Adrian wheel his bike until we were away from the road and in the safety of the park with its cycle paths. Paula stopped every so often to readjust the covers around the ‘baby’ in the pram, although in truth, and as Adrian pointed out with some relish, it was so hot that it hardly mattered that baby was uncovered as ‘it’ was hardly likely to catch cold.

‘Not again,’ Adrian lamented as our progress was once more interrupted by Paula stopping and seeing to baby. ‘Give it to me,’ he said at last, ‘and I'll tie it to my handlebars. Then we can get there.’

‘It's not an it,’ Paula said, rising to the bait.

But that was normal brother and sister teasing, and I thought a far cry from whatever had been happening between Donna and her brothers. As nothing Edna had said had explained how the situation between Donna and her brothers had deteriorated to the point of her having to move, I came back to the possibility it could be an excuse from her carers. Perhaps Mary and Ray hadn't been able to cope with having three children, all with very different needs and who would have been very unsettled, and as
experienced carers they had felt unable to simply admit defeat and say they couldn't cope, and had seized upon some sibling jealousy to effect the move. I didn't blame them, although I hoped that Donna hadn't been aware that she was the ‘culprit’; Edna had referred to the situation as Donna being ‘upset’, which shouldn't have left her feeling in any way guilty.

Once in the park, Adrian cycled up and down the cycle paths, aware that, as usual, he had to stay within sight of me. ‘If you can see me, then I can see you,’ I said to him as I said each time we brought his bike to the park. Even so, I had one eye on him while I pushed Paula on the swings and kept my other eye on ‘the baby’ in the pram as Paula had told me to.

I thought of Donna as Paula swung higher and higher in front of me with little whoops of glee at each of my pushes. I thought of Donna's profile as I had seen her at the bottom of our garden, slumped, dejected and going through the motions of entertaining Paula. I would have to make sure that Paula didn't ‘put on’ Donna, for I didn't want Donna to feel she
had
to entertain or play with Paula, or Adrian for that matter, although this was less likely. Something in Donna's compliance, her malleability, had suggested she was used to going along with others' wishes, possibly to keep the peace.

Paula swapped the swing for the see-saw, and I sat on one end and she on the other. As I dangled her little weight high in the air to her not-very-convincing squeals of ‘Put me down’, I felt a surge of hope and anticipation, an optimism. I was sure that when Donna came to stay with us, given the time and space, care and attention she clearly so badly needed, she would come out of her shell
and make huge progress, and I could visualise her coming here to play. I also thought that Donna was going to be a lot easier to look after than some of the children I had fostered. She didn't come with behavioural difficulties — kicking or screaming abuse, for instance — and certainly wasn't hyperactive; and if Mary did have a bruise on her arm, I now smugly assumed it was because she and Ray had mishandled the situation when they had been trying to bath the boys. Had they allowed Donna to help a little, instead of trying to forcibly remove her from the bathroom, I was sure the whole episode could have been defused. Like so many situations with children, fostered or one's own, it was simply, I thought, a matter of handling the child correctly — giving choices and some responsibility, so that the child felt they had a say in their lives.

I had a lot to learn!

We ate at 5.00 p.m., earlier than usual, so that I could clear away and be ready for Donna's expected arrival soon after 6.00. We'd had chicken casserole and I had plated up some for Donna, which I would re-heat in the microwave if she was hungry. After she had spent the afternoon with Edna in her office they were returning to Mary and Ray's only to collect her belongings and say goodbye, so there was a good chance she wouldn't have had dinner. Children always feel better once they've eaten their first meal in the house, and spent their first night in their new bedroom. I had also bathed Paula early, and she was changed into her pyjamas; her usual bedtime was between 7.00 and 7.30, but that was when I would be directing my attention to Donna tonight. Adrian, at ten, was used to taking care of his own
bath or shower, and could be left to get on with it — he didn't need or want me to be present any more.

At 6.00 p.m. the children's television programmes had finished; the French windows were still wide open on to the glorious summer evening and Adrian was sitting on the bench on the patio, playing with his hand-held Gameboy with Paula beside him, watching. I'd told Paula that she could go outside again, but as she'd had her bath I didn't want her playing in the sandpit and in need of another bath. I was sitting on the sofa by the French windows with the television on, vaguely watching the six o'clock news. I doubted Edna and Donna would arrive much before 6.30, by the time they had said their goodbyes to Mary and Ray (and Warren and Jason) and loaded up the car with Donna's belongings. I wondered how her brothers were taking Donna's sudden departure. They had, after all, been together for all their lives, albeit not in very happy circumstances, so they would be pretty distressed, I thought.

Jill, my support social worker, was present whenever possible when a child was placed with me; however, I wasn't expecting her this evening. She had left a message on the answerphone while we'd been at the park, saying that she'd been called away to an emergency with new carers in a neighbouring county, and that if anything untoward arose and I needed her advice, to phone her mobile. I didn't think I would need to phone, as the placement of Donna with me would be quite straightforward; Edna was very experienced and would bring all the forms that were needed with her.

Five minutes later the doorbell rang and my heart gave a funny little lurch. I immediately stood and switched off
the television. Welcoming a new child (or children) and settling them in is always an anxious time, and not only for the child. I must have done it over thirty times before but there was still a surge of worry, accompanied by anxious anticipation, as I wanted to do my best to make the child feel at home as quickly as possible. Adrian and Paula had heard the doorbell too; Adrian stayed where he was, intent on his Gameboy, while Paula came in.

‘Is that Donna?’ Paula asked.

‘I think so.’

Paula came with me down the hall, and I opened the front door. I could tell straight away that parting hadn't been easy: Donna was clearly upset. She had a tissue in her hand and had obviously been crying; she looked sadder than ever and my heart went out to her. Edna looked glum too, and absolutely exhausted.

‘Come in,’ I said, standing aside to let them pass.

‘Thank you, Cathy,’ Edna said, placing her hand on Donna's arm to encourage her forward. ‘We'll sit down for a while, and then I'll unpack the car.’

‘Go on through to the lounge,’ I said as they stepped passed me into the hall, and I closed the door. Paula walked beside Donna and tried to take her hand, but Donna pulled it away. I mouthed to Paula not to say anything because Donna was upset.

‘You go with Adrian for now,’ I said to Paula as we entered the lounge. She returned to sit beside him on the bench outside, where he was still engrossed in his Gameboy.

‘It's one of those Mario games,’ I said to Edna as she glanced out through the French windows at Adrian. Edna smiled and nodded. Donna had sat close beside Edna on
the sofa and her chin was so far down that it nearly rested on her chest.

‘Is everything all right?’ I asked Edna.

She nodded again, but threw me a look that suggested they had had a rough time and that she would tell me more later, not in front of Donna. ‘Mary and Ray gave Donna a goodbye present,’ Edna said brightly, glancing at Donna.

‘That's nice. Can I have a look?’ I asked Donna. Children are usually given a leaving present by their foster carers, and also a little goodbye party, although I assumed that hadn't happened here. Donna was clutching a small bright red paper bag on her lap, together with the tissue she'd used to wipe her eyes. ‘What did you get?’ I tried again, but she shrugged and made no move to show me. ‘Perhaps later,’ I said. ‘Would you like a drink, Donna? Or something to eat? I've saved you dinner if you want it.’

She gave that slight shake of the head, so I assumed she didn't want either now.

‘I'll do the paperwork,’ Edna said, ‘and then I'll leave Donna to settle in. She's had a very busy day and I expect she'll want an early night.’

I nodded. ‘What time do you usually go to bed, Donna?’

Edna glanced at her and then at me. ‘I'm not sure, but she's ten, so I would think eight o'clock is late enough, wouldn't you?’

‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘That sounds about right. Adrian is the same age and usually goes up around eight and then reads for a bit.’ I looked at Donna as I spoke, hoping I might elicit some response; it felt strange and uncomfortable talking about a girl of her age without her actually contributing.

Edna took an A4 folder from her large shoulder bag and, opening it, removed two sets of papers, each paper-clipped in one corner. ‘I think I've already told you most of what is on the Essential Information Form,’ she said, flipping through the pages and running her finger down the typing. ‘I've only included the names and contact details of Donna's immediate family; there are aunts and uncles, but Donna sees them only occasionally. She had a medical when she first came into care and everything was fine. Also Mary and Ray took her to the dentist and optician, and that was all clear too.’ It is usual for a child to have these check-ups when they first come into care.

‘That's good,’ I said, and I glanced at Donna, who still had her head down. She'd cupped the little red bag containing the present protectively in her hands as if it was her most treasured possession in the world.

Edna checked down the last pages of the Essential Information Form, and then leant forward and handed it to me. This would go into the file I would start on Donna, as I had to for all the children I looked after, together with the paperwork I would gradually accumulate while Donna stayed with me, and also the daily log which I had to keep and which Jill inspected regularly when she visited.

‘The Placement Agreement forms are complete,’ Edna said, flipping through the second set of forms. ‘I checked them before we left the office.’ She peeled off the top sheets and, taking a pen from her bag, signed at the foot of the last page. She did the same for the bottom set of forms, which was a duplicate of the top set, and then passed both sets of forms to me. I added my signature beneath hers on both copies and passed one set back. The Placement
Agreement gave me the legal right to foster Donna and I was signing to say I agreed to do this and to work to the required standard. One copy would be kept by the social services and my copy would go in my file.

‘Nearly finished,’ Edna said, turning to Donna.

I glanced through the open French windows at Paula and Adrian, sitting side by side on the bench. Adrian was still intent on his Gameboy and Paula was looking between the game and Donna, hoping Donna might look up and make eye contact.

‘Here's Donna's medical card,’ Edna said, passing a printed card to me. ‘Will you register her at your doctor's, please? She's outside the catchment area of Mary and Ray's GP.’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘I think that's about it then,’ Edna said, closing the folder and returning it to her bag. She placed her bag beside the sofa, glanced first at Donna and then looked at me. ‘Do you have any plans for the weekend, Cathy?’

‘Not especially. I thought we would have a relaxing weekend, and give Donna a chance to settle in. I will have to pop up to the supermarket tomorrow for a few things. Then on Sunday we could go to a park; the weather is supposed to be good.’

‘That sounds nice,’ Edna said. ‘Donna is good at shopping. She likes to help, don't you, Donna?’ We both looked at Donna and she managed to give that almost imperceptible nod. ‘You will be able to tell Cathy what your favourite foods are when you go shopping,’ Edna continued, trying to spark some interest. ‘I am sure Cathy will let you have some of them.’

‘Absolutely,’ I agreed. ‘You can help me choose, Donna.’

Edna's gaze lingered on Donna and I knew she was finding it difficult to make a move to leave. I wondered if Donna had been this quiet and withdrawn all afternoon, while she'd been with Edna at the office. Sitting forward, Edna said, ‘OK, Cathy, could you give me a hand unpacking the car then, please?’

‘Yes, of course.’ I stood and went to the French windows. ‘I'm just helping Edna unload the car,’ I said to Adrian and Paula. ‘You're all right there for now, aren't you?’

They nodded, Adrian without looking up from his game and Paula with her eyes going again to Donna.

‘You can stay there, Donna,’ Edna said, ‘or you can go in the garden if you like with Paula and Adrian.’

Donna shrugged without looking up, and Edna left the sofa and began towards the lounge door. ‘I'll come back in to say goodbye,’ she said, pausing and turning to look at Donna. Donna shrugged again, almost with indifference, as though it didn't matter if Edna said goodbye or not; but I knew for certain that it did matter. The poor girl had spent the last hour saying goodbye — to Warren and Jason, to Mary and Ray, and now to Edna. I could only guess at what must be going through her mind as her social worker, to whom she was obviously very close, and with whom she had spent all day, was about to depart and leave her with strangers, albeit ones with good intentions.

I followed Edna down the hall and she stood aside to allow me to open the front door. She gave one of her little heartfelt sighs. ‘I'm sure Donna will be fine by the end of the weekend,’ she said. ‘I'll phone on Monday and arrange to visit next week.’