Charlie.
‘Hi,’ said Charlie, stepping back to let her in.
‘Hello, I’m Camille,’ she simpered and Charlie inwardly sighed. ‘Would you like to see some identification?’ she asked.
‘No, it’s okay. You’re from Social Services. We’re expecting you.’
‘I am,’ said Camille, looking totally surprised.
‘Although you’re a little early.’
‘So I am,’ said Camille, without looking at her watch. Charlie was already suspicious. Was this an attempt to catch Charlie off guard? Charlie showed her through to the living room and shut the door.
Charlie went down the stairs at speed, through the kitchen and into the playroom. George and Millie were play wrestling and Millie’s hair looked as if a troupe of monkeys had rampaged through it.
‘George, Millie! Stop it now,’ said Charlie, trying not to shout. Millie jumped up and promptly stomped on George’s groin.
George let out a yelp. ‘My testicles!’ said George, nursing the front of his trousers.
‘George!’ Charlie pointed at Millie and tried very hard not to laugh.
For the first fifteen minutes the meeting with Camille went fine. Camille had introduced herself and gone through what usually happened in this situation and the process they would need to go through. Charlie had given her the children’s birth certificates so that she could copy down their details correctly.
‘I see that Edward is Mrs Cobley’s child from a previous relationship.’ It didn’t bode well for them that, despite her appearance, this social worker was on the ball.
‘Yes, Ted was the result of a relationship at university, as I understand it,’ said Charlie. ‘His father doesn’t keep in touch and Toby always brought him up as his own.’
‘However, this does mean that technically he isn’t orphaned, so if his father was able to look after him that would be an option for Edward.’
‘Ted is sixteen in September, he doesn’t know his father at all and Mr and Mrs Cobley wanted the children to stay together. It specifically stated it in their wills.’
‘Yes, of course, but Edward’s father should be made aware of the situation.’
‘Okay. I’ll tell him,’ said Charlie, who had absolutely no intention of doing so. ‘I know that it’s not straightforward having joint guardians so we wondered if Helen’s father, Roger Talbot, could be the children’s guardian instead?’
‘Oh, I wasn’t aware there were any other family members?’ Camille seemed to brighten up, as she poised her pen over her notebook. ‘How old is Mr Talbot and where does he live?’
‘He was seventy last year, they had a big party for him at the nursing home,’ said Charlie and she saw Camille’s brightness fade. ‘He has all his marbles, he’s only there because he’s got really bad arthritis.’
‘I see,’ said Camille as she made some notes.
‘Will I be able to stay on after the guardian is appointed?’
‘I don’t know, that would be up to the guardian, but what if you get a better job offer? What then?’
‘I stay here,’ said Charlie bluntly. ‘It’s not just a job to me.’
‘Yes, of course, but people’s priorities change and I need to check that everyone understands the implications of any arrangements. And, as I explained, the final decision will rest with a judge.’ She gave a weak smile and Charlie started to feel sweat form on her top lip.
‘Have the children returned to school?’ asked Camille.
‘No, not yet but both the schools have been really supportive. The tutors are in regular contact and have sent work across so that they don’t fall behind on their studies. I guess that’s the benefit of private schools.’
‘You’ll need to talk to the tutors about a plan for them to return.’ said Camille as she jotted down more notes but didn’t look up.
‘Yep, and talk to the children about it too,’ said Charlie as she wondered how she would broach that subject.
The door opened and in came Millie carrying a struggling Wriggly.
‘Wriggly needs a nappy,’ stated Millie, plonking the dog momentarily onto Charlie’s lap before he made his escape.
‘Come here, sweetheart,’ said Charlie, lifting Millie onto her knee. Millie snuggled into Charlie’s shoulder and stared at Camille.
‘So who do we have here?’ asked Camille, her business-like approach lost at the sight of the beautiful child with pouting lips.
‘This is Millie,’ said Charlie.
‘Ah, Amelia Alexandra Cobley,’ said Camille, checking her notes.
‘Th-b-th-sssssss,’ said Millie, blowing a magnificent raspberry at Camille.
‘Be nice,’ whispered Charlie in Millie’s ear and she instantly put on a beaming and slightly scary smile. Camille sat back a little. ‘How do you think the children are coping?’
‘I think the phrase is as well as can be expected.’
Camille nodded, ‘Any drastic changes in behaviour? Anything you need help with?’
‘Testicles,’ said Millie and Camille’s eyebrows shot up. Charlie inwardly cried.
‘Testicles! Testicles!’ chanted Millie happily.
Thankfully, Camille hadn’t seemed too shocked by Millie’s inappropriate chanting. She arranged to visit the following week and also to talk to each of the older children, to understand their wishes. Charlie saw Camille out and returned to the living room. She flopped down on to the sofa next to Millie.
‘How did you think that went?’ asked Charlie.
‘Testicles!’ said Millie.
‘Precisely,’ said Charlie.
Charlie was sound asleep when the phone went. She hated it when the phone rang in the middle of the night; it was usually a wrong number. Charlie didn’t have a landline in her room so it meant she would have to get out of bed and go downstairs. She tried to move an arm but realised that it was dead and trapped underneath a sleeping Eleanor. It seemed Eleanor had rolled that way, having been squeezed out by Millie, who was taking up an inordinate amount of room by sleeping in a star formation. This was not going to be an easy habit to break. Charlie pulled her arm from underneath the sleeping child and removed the weight from her feet that was in the form of a snoring Wriggly. That was another habit that needed to stop too, she thought, as she went downstairs on autopilot. The caller
