glanced at me and I nodded.
‘Why not longer?’ Melody asked.
‘Because we don’t want your mummy getting overtired and agitated.’ All this must have seemed odd to Melody, who’d been used to living with her mother whether she was tired and agitated or not, but of course Neave was now looking at contact in terms of Amanda being a patient, not just a mother seeing her daughter. ‘Let’s see how it goes,’ Neave said, and drank the rest of her coffee.
‘Shall we take Mummy dinner like we used to?’ Melody now asked me.
‘She’ll have plenty to eat in hospital, but we could take her a snack,’ I suggested. ‘Perhaps some fruit and biscuits, and you could make her a card. That’s what people usually do when they visit family in hospital.’
‘Yes, I’ll make her a card,’ Melody said.
‘That’ll be nice,’ Neave agreed. Melody didn’t have any more questions, so we spent a little while talking about Melody’s routine, then Neave gave me the details of the hospital ward where Amanda was. Satisfied that Melody was being well looked after, Neave then asked to see Melody’s bedroom before she went. It’s usual for the social worker to check the child’s room during their visit. I stayed in the living room while Melody took Neave upstairs. Her room was far more attractive now, more personalized, with the belongings she’d acquired since coming to me. Nothing had come from home and now Amanda was in hospital I doubted any would. They were up there for about five minutes and when they came down Neave said, ‘She clearly loves her bedroom.’
‘Good.’
Picking up her bag, Neave prepared to leave. ‘Have a good weekend then. I’ll phone next week to see how contact has gone.’
Melody went off to play while I saw Neave out. It was now nearly six o’clock and I was glad I’d prepared dinner earlier and it was ready in the oven. We all ate and then after dinner Melody made a lovely card for her mother using colouring pens, and sticking on felt shapes and glitter. By the time she’d finished there was glitter everywhere, including on the cat, whose fur sparkled in the light, until, worried she might lick it off, I gave her a good brush.
Despite having been told it was highly unlikely she or her mother would ever return home, Melody was happy because she was seeing her mother on Monday. It overrode everything else. Plus we had a busy weekend. I took Melody swimming on Saturday morning, and Lucy came too. Then in the afternoon I took her to the cinema and Paula joined us. On Sunday we visited my parents and Melody told both of them – jointly and separately – that she was seeing her mother on Monday. ‘She’s in hospital,’ she explained. ‘I’m going to see her after school. Cathy will be there too and we are going to take her a snack.’
‘That’s lovely,’ my mother said. ‘Your mummy will be so very pleased to see you.’
My family appreciated, as I did, just how important it was for Melody to see her mother. Mum had made cupcakes for our visit and she put some in a stay-fresh box for Melody to give to her. ‘Thank you, my mummy will love these,’ Melody said gratefully. ‘Like she did Cathy’s rice pudding. Do you think Mummy will have rice pudding in hospital?’
‘I am sure she will,’ Mum said.
All Melody’s hopes therefore were pinned on seeing her mother on Monday and she planned what they were going to do. I didn’t disillusion her by saying that her mother might not be up to playing games, because in all honestly I didn’t know. Amanda had played with Melody a few weeks ago when she’d seen her at the Family Centre. She couldn’t have deteriorated that much, could she?
On Monday morning Melody was up early and, once dressed, she carefully set by the front door (so I wouldn’t forget to bring them later) the card she’d made, the box of cakes, and some fruit and chocolate biscuits she’d selected from the cupboard.
‘Don’t be late,’ she told me when I saw her into school. ‘Neave said we’re going straight from school to the hospital.’
‘I know,’ I smiled. ‘I won’t be late.’ And with a hop, skip and a little wave she went happily into school.
On the way home I stopped off at the supermarket, and I was unpacking the shopping in the kitchen when the phone rang. I was slightly surprised to hear Neave’s voice, as I wasn’t expecting to hear from her again until after Melody had seen her mother this evening.
‘A care home has been found for Amanda,’ she said. ‘She is being transferred there later today, so contact won’t take place.’
‘Oh no. Can’t Melody see her mother before or after the move?’
‘No, because I’ve no idea what time she’ll be moved, and the hospital don’t know yet either. It’ll depend on when transport is available.’
‘Oh I see, oh dear. Melody is going to be so disappointed.’
‘I appreciate that, but it can’t be helped. She’ll see her mother as soon as she’s settled at the care home.’
‘Shall I take her tomorrow then?’ I asked.
‘No, we want her settled first, and a social worker from the adult safeguarding team will visit her.’
‘But Melody will be seeing her mother later this week, won’t she? If I could give her a definite day, it might help lessen her disappointment.’
My attitude and persistence must have irritated Neave, and doubtless she was very busy on a Monday morning, for she said tersely, ‘Mrs Glass, if I could give you confirmed arrangements I would, but I can’t yet. So if you could tell Melody her mother is being moved to a care home and she’ll see her as soon as possible, I’d be very grateful.’ With a rather curt thank you and goodbye she ended the call and hung up.
‘Damn and blast,’ I cursed as I returned the handset to its cradle. Not because I’d irritated Neave, but because Melody wouldn’t be seeing her mother. While I appreciated that arrangements in fostering can and do change, this wasn’t right. Everyone at the review had agreed Melody should be seeing her mother, yet now it had been postponed indefinitely. I realized it wasn’t practical for Melody to see her mother today, but I didn’t understand why Neave couldn’t have given me a firm day, which I felt would make telling Melody that bit easier. Your mummy is moving today to a care home, so we’ll see her on Wednesday – or Thursday or Friday, or whichever day it was – sounded less harsh than, We can’t visit your mummy today, as she is moving to the care home. Neave will tell us when we can see her. Children in care have to deal with so many disappointments, especially in respect of their parents, and it’s often left to the foster carer to mop up the mess.
I stood in the kitchen, staring into space, feeling Melody’s disappointment. I considered telephoning Jill, but she wouldn’t be able to offer much beyond commiseration. I then thought about the Guardian, Nina, who’d been advocating the resumption of contact. Going into the front room, I took my fostering folder from the drawer and found Nina’s office phone number. As I dialled I hoped Neave wouldn’t think I was going behind her back or over her head, then I thought, sod it, I don’t care. Melody needs to see her mother.
Nina was out of the office but was expected back in an hour or so, so I left a message with her colleague, giving my details and asking her to call me as soon as she could. She returned my call an hour later and I explained that contact had been arranged for
