parents, as he’s in care under a Section 20?’
‘I shouldn’t think so, given the level of confidentiality,’ Jill said. ‘What did the woman look like?’
‘I didn’t get a very good look at her because each time she rushed off. But I’d say late twenties or early thirties, smartly dressed, average height and build with dark hair and light brown skin.’
Jill went quiet for a moment as I looked in the car window to check on the children.
‘I’ll phone Cheryl first thing on Monday,’ she said. ‘It’s no good me phoning now: their duty social worker won’t know the case. Obviously if the woman or anyone else approaches you or comes to the house, don’t take any chances: phone us or the police. We don’t know who she is or why she’s there.’
‘All right, Jill.’
We said goodbye and I got into the car, slightly spooked by Jill’s warning and her instruction to call the police if necessary.
We continued with our shopping trip but I was vigilant for the rest of the day and indeed that weekend. I checked the street every time we entered or left the house, but I saw no one acting suspiciously.
By Monday morning I was starting to think the woman’s appearance was pure coincidence and was not connected with Harrison. That was until Jill phoned.
Chapter Ten
Shut in a Cupboard
It was just after midday on Monday and I was sitting on the sofa with Harrison in my arms, feeding him. It was raining outside and I was thinking I would need to take Adrian’s and Paula’s macs when I collected them from school if it hadn’t stopped raining by home time. Harrison jumped when the phone rang and paused from sucking. I quickly reached over and picked up the handset.
‘Hello,’ I said, lodging the handset between my chin and shoulder so that I could continue holding Harrison’s bottle.
‘Cathy, it’s Jill. Are you free to talk?’
I heard the seriousness in her voice. ‘Yes, I’m feeding Harrison. What’s the matter?’
‘I hope you’re sitting down,’ Jill said. I felt my heart set up a strange little rhythm. ‘I’ve just spoken to Cheryl on the phone and I’m afraid your address—’
‘Has been released,’ I interrupted, realizing the reason for her call and seriousness.
‘Yes, you were right. Your address was included on the paperwork that was sent out. I’ve told Cheryl I’m very unhappy that we weren’t informed and she sends her apologies. She said that as Harrison’s mother was cooperating with the social services she saw no reason to withhold your address, and had assumed that as it is a Section 20 you and Homefinders would have realized Rihanna would know where Harrison was, which clearly we didn’t.’
‘No. Cheryl went to such lengths to emphasize that no one must know where Harrison was, I assumed “no one” meant no one. It never crossed my mind anyone would have my contact details until Saturday, when I saw that woman in the street for the second time. Who else knows my address?’
‘Only Rihanna’s solicitor,’ Jill said. ‘There are no other parties involved in the case.’
‘What about Harrison’s father?’
‘He’s not involved.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘That’s what Cheryl said. She also assured me Harrison’s mother won’t cause you any problems. Rihanna’s still cooperating fully with the social services and wishes only that Harrison can be found a good adoptive family. She doesn’t want any contact with him.’
‘So why was she outside my house?’
‘Cheryl doesn’t think it was her,’ Jill said. ‘Rihanna has told Cheryl she is trying to rebuild her life and has returned to work. But to put your mind at rest Cheryl said she’d write to Rihanna’s solicitor and mention your concerns. Cathy, it could have been anyone in your road, although as Cheryl pointed out even if it was Harrison’s mother she hasn’t done anything wrong.’
‘No,’ I agreed thoughtfully. ‘She hasn’t.’
‘Look, Cathy, if you are very worried I could try and find another carer to look after Harrison.’
‘No,’ I said quickly. ‘There’s no need for that.’
‘Good. So let’s assume for the time being that it wasn’t Harrison’s mother and see what her solicitor has to say – although it will probably be a few weeks before the social services receive a reply. In the meantime let me know if you have any more concerns, and please be assured that only his mother and solicitor have your contact details. All right?’
‘All right.’
Jill apologized again for the oversight Cheryl had made in not telling me Harrison’s mother would be aware of my address, and we wound up the conversation and said goodbye. I replaced the handset and remained where I was on the sofa, staring into space and deep in thought, as Harrison took the last of his bottle. Clearly Jill and Cheryl had decided that the woman outside my house wasn’t Harrison’s mother, but I wondered how they could be so sure. Cheryl had told Jill that Rihanna was trying to rebuild her life and had returned to work, but both sightings of the woman has been at the weekend when she wouldn’t be at work. Or maybe, if it wasn’t Harrison’s mother, then it was someone his mother knew and had confided in: a sister or close friend. Clearly I didn’t know, but I was annoyed that, not for the first time since I’d begun fostering, a social worker had forgotten to pass on a piece of vital information.
Harrison finished his bottle and I sat him upright on my lap and began massaging his back to release his wind, at the same time reassuring him (and myself) that he wouldn’t be taken away: ‘Naughty Jill,’ I said, ‘suggesting she could move you. Of course you’re not leaving, not for a long, long time. You’ll stay with us until the social services have found you a nice adoptive family, which will take most of the year.’
Harrison responded with a loud burp and I wiped the residue of milk from his lips with a bib. I then lifted him up and turned him round to face me so that I could kiss his nose, which he loved. He was such a cute little baby you couldn’t help but pet and kiss him at every opportunity, and my thoughts went again to his mother and the fact that she would never know the joy of kissing her son or seeing him giggle.
I sat Harrison in his bouncing cradle while I washed the bottle and put it in the sterilizer; then I wrote up my log notes, briefly including Jill’s phone call and what Cheryl had said. Jill would have made more detailed notes in her records of the conversations she’d had with Cheryl and with me. When I’d finished updating my log notes I took some photographs of Harrison in his bouncing cradle, and was about to switch on the television for the one o’clock news when the phone rang again. Harrison frowned and looked in the direction of the ringing as I picked up the handset. I was surprised to hear Jill’s voice again and immediately assumed it must be more bad news.
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