A Baby’s Cry. Cathy Glass
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The following week was very busy and flew by. I drove Adrian and Paula to and from school each day. On Tuesday I took Harrison to the clinic to be weighed – he’d put on four ounces, which the health visitor entered in his red book. On Wednesday I had foster carer training run by Homefinders fostering agency, who also provided a crèche so that Harrison was looked after in the room next door while I attended the course. On Thursday I went to Adrian and Paula’s school sports day with Harrison in his pram. He slept for a while and then when the cheering and applauding woke him I held him in my arms so that he could see what was going on. So many outdoor activities in the UK rely on the weather for their success and the weather stayed fine that afternoon, so the annual sports day was a great success.
By the end of the week I felt I had established a good working routine with Harrison and although I was tired – from having two three-hour sleeps instead of one of seven hours – I knew from the experience of having Adrian and Paula that in a few months Harrison should, I hoped, no longer need his 2.00 a.m. feed and sleep through. And to be honest I didn’t mind the early-hours feed, as I hadn’t minded it with Adrian and Paula. I found something quite serene and magical in sitting in bed by the light of the lamp with Harrison in my arms – the two of us quietly alone while the rest of the world slept. It was an oasis of calm and peace in an otherwise busy schedule and Harrison’s little smile when he was full, and his gurgles of contentment as he lay in his cot before falling asleep, more than compensated for any tiredness I felt.
I thought nothing more of the woman we’d seen in our street on Sunday and the week drew to a close with much excitement from Adrian and Paula, as there was only one week left until school ended for summer, or as Adrian put it: ‘Freedom! For six whole weeks.’ He was also in the end-of-year play, which the school staged in the final week. This year they were putting on The Jungle Book and Adrian was one of the vultures. He’d been practising his lines with a Liverpudlian accent at every opportunity: What do you want to do? Don’t know. What do you want to do? Don’t know, etc.
I was, therefore, starting to feel that life was running smoothly again and I needn’t have worried so much about looking after a baby, as I’d successfully accommodated Harrison into our family with minimum disruption to Adrian and Paula. Indeed, they were enjoying helping me look after him and easily forgave him if he was fractious or woke them at night. However, on Saturday morning my complacency and feelings of well-being were shaken.
I opened the front door, ready to leave with the children to go shopping, and became vaguely aware that there was someone on the opposite side of the street. I didn’t think anything of it to begin with, as I was concentrating on Harrison and checking I’d remembered to bring my shopping list, keys and purse, while Adrian and Paula stood behind me in the hall, ready to follow me out. Then I looked up and my heart missed a beat. Although she was dressed in different clothes, I was sure it was the same woman Adrian had spotted the previous Sunday. She was standing in the same place and seemed to be looking over at our house. As soon as she saw me she turned and headed up the street, walking quickly away just as she had done on Sunday.
Closing the front door and with my heart racing I put Harrison, who was in his car seat, on the floor. Could she be connected with Harrison? Had my contact details accidentally been released? It had happened before. Could she possibly be Harrison’s mother? Then something else occurred to me that made my heart thump loudly and my mouth go dry. If a child is in care under an Emergency Protection Order or Full Care Order where there are concerns for the child’s safety then the foster carer’s contact details are not given to the parents. However, Harrison was in care under a Section 20 and I knew that usually with a Section 20 the parent(s) are given the foster carer’s contact details. While Cheryl had stressed that no one knew where Harrison was, it now occurred to me that that might not have included Harrison’s mother or father.
Adrian and Paula, who hadn’t seen the woman this time but had seen me open and close the door, were now looking at me questioningly. ‘Will you keep an eye on Harrison for a minute, please?’ I said. ‘I need to make a quick phone call.’
I left the children entertaining Harrison in his car seat, while I went down the hall to use the telephone in the sitting room. I closed the door to the sitting room so that the children couldn’t hear, as I didn’t want to worry them. Perching on the sofa and wondering if I was over-reacting I dialled Homefinders’ office number. As it was Saturday I knew the call would be re-routed through to the agency’s social worker who was on duty that weekend. A moment later a male voice answered and I recognized it as Michael’s.
‘Hello, Michael, it’s Cathy Glass,’ I said, trying to keep the anxiety from my voice.
‘Hi, Cathy. What can I do for you?’
‘Michael, am I right in thinking that with a Section 20 the parents are usually given the foster carer’s address?’
‘Yes. Usually. Why? Is there something wrong?’
‘I’m not sure. How much do you know of Harrison’s case?’ I asked carefully.
‘Not a lot, I’m afraid. If you explain the problem I can advise you, or I could phone Jill. She’s not on duty this weekend but she won’t mind if it’s an emergency and I can’t help.’
I hesitated. It wasn’t exactly an emergency and while I didn’t want to disturb Jill unnecessarily on her day off, I wasn’t sure it was wise to explain Harrison’s case to Michael. Given the level of confidentiality surrounding Harrison it was possible that only Jill and the manager at Homefinders were aware of his background.
‘Michael, would you mind phoning Jill, please?’ I said. ‘It’s not an emergency but I would appreciate her advice.’
‘OK, if you’re sure I can’t help?’
‘It’s very complicated,’ I said. ‘It would be easier if I talked to Jill.’
‘Of course. I’ll phone her right away. Shall I tell her to phone your landline or mobile?’
I paused. ‘Mobile, please. I’m just going out.’
‘OK. Will do.’
I thanked him and, after replacing the handset, returned down the hall, where Adrian and Paula were still keeping Harrison amused. As I didn’t know how long it would be before Jill returned my call I decided we’d continue with our shopping trip rather than wait in. I’d take Jill’s call when it came through on my mobile.
I opened the front door and checked the street. The woman was nowhere to be seen. Adrian and Paula followed me out of the house and I closed and locked the front door. I checked the street again as the children got into the car and I strapped Harrison in his car seat under the seatbelt. With another glance around I climbed into the driver’s seat and was about to start the engine when my mobile rang. I took the phone from my bag and saw it was Jill’s number. I pressed to answer. At the same time I got out of the car and closed the driver’s door so that Adrian and Paula couldn’t hear what I was saying.
‘What’s the problem?’ Jill asked straightaway.
‘Jill, I’m sorry to disturb you at the weekend, and it may be nothing, but Cheryl said I should report any strangers hanging around in the street. Last Sunday and then again this morning I saw