be fine,’ I said again.
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ Terri said. ‘I’ll leave the two of you to make arrangements at the end of this meeting to collect George.’
‘Thank you,’ Reva said to me.
I thought the meeting had got off to a good start and that George was now one less thing for Reva to worry about, but then her face clouded and she began to cry.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, taking a fresh tissue from her handbag. ‘You’re all being so nice to me and trying to help. I really don’t deserve it.’
‘Of course you deserve it,’ Terri said. ‘We all want to help you and Danny. You must stop blaming yourself. It’s not your fault Danny is as he is.’ Then to Sue, Terri said, ‘Would you like to tell us a bit about how Danny is doing in school? I expect Cathy will want to help him with his homework.’
‘We don’t actually set Danny homework as such,’ she said. ‘More targets to work towards, in line with his individual education plan. Reva has a copy of the plan and I can have one printed for Cathy, if that’s all right with Reva?’
Reva nodded.
Sue made a note of this and then said, ‘Danny has been in this school a year. He arrived after his parents moved into the area with his father’s job. At present Danny is working towards a reception-level standard. He is difficult to assess educationally because of his communication difficulties, but he is about two to three years behind his peer group. He tries his best but finds the core subjects of English, maths and science very challenging, although I adapt all the work to suit his needs. He does like art, especially drawing, painting and creating patterns. He’s very good at making patterns. Danny has communication and language difficulties – both receptive and expressive – so we have to pace his learning to fit him. His teaching assistant, Yvonne, is good with him and has endless patience. Danny is uncoordinated and finds games lessons difficult, but he likes a good run around the playing field.’
‘Yes, I noticed that last night,’ Terri said dryly.
I smiled.
‘Tell them about his meltdowns,’ Reva now said.
Sue looked at me. ‘Danny can become frustrated when he is unable to express himself or there is too much going on for him, and he has a “meltdown”. Yvonne and I have become adept at spotting the warning signs and can sometimes distract him to avoid it, but not always. He’ll lie on the floor, scream and shout and lash out at anyone who goes near him. It’s very upsetting for him, and for us to witness.’
‘He does it at home as well,’ Reva said. ‘And in public, in the street and in shops. Everyone stares. I know they blame me for not controlling him properly, but I don’t know what to do.’ She was close to tears again.
‘As an experienced and specialist foster carer you’ll be able to cope with Danny’s behaviour, won’t you?’ Terri said to me.
‘Yes,’ I said confidently, although I was feeling far from confident inside.
‘Danny finds it difficult to make friends,’ Sue continued. ‘The children in the class are very tolerant of him and kind, but he doesn’t have a proper friend. He doesn’t understand how to make friends, although Yvonne has tried to show him. In the playground he keeps close to her or one of the other assistants. He can easily become overwhelmed by all the noise and activity, so we often bring him in early. He eats his lunch with the other children in the dining hall, but he takes a long time and is usually the last to finish.’ My heart clenched as I imagined little Danny sitting all alone in a big dining room while the other children were outside playing. ‘Yvonne or one of the other assistants stays with him until he’s finished,’ Sue said. ‘There are a lot of unknowns with Danny and at times he’s very difficult to reach. The school would like the educational psychologist to assess him so that we’re all in a better position to help him meet his full potential. But we need the parents’ permission for that assessment.’
Which begged the question: why hadn’t his parents given permission?
Terri turned to Reva. ‘Is your husband still not happy with Danny being assessed?’
‘He won’t,’ Reva said. ‘He is ashamed. He refuses to admit anything is wrong with Danny.’
‘I’ll have a chat with him and explain why it’s important Danny is assessed,’ Terri said, making a note. Then looking at Sue she said, ‘Is that everything for now?’
‘I think so.’
‘Thank you,’ Terri said. Then she turned to Reva: ‘Would you like to say a bit about Danny? Perhaps tell Cathy about his likes and dislikes, and his routine. Anything you think may help her look after Danny.’
‘Yes,’ Reva said. ‘I’ve made a few notes.’ She unhooked her shoulder bag from the back of her chair and, opening it, slid out a thick wodge of papers. ‘This is Danny’s daily routine,’ she said, passing it across the table to me. ‘It never alters.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, taking it. I began flipping through. Usually a parent will say a few words about their child’s routine, very occasionally they’ll give me some notes, but never in all my years of fostering had I seen anything this detailed before: twenty-three pages of A4 paper covered in small print.
‘Perhaps you could read it later,’ Terri said, aware of the volume of paperwork.
I nodded and smiled at Reva. ‘Thank you. This will be helpful.’
‘Is there anything you want to add to what you’ve written?’ Terri asked Reva.
I assumed there wouldn’t be, given the detail in the paperwork, but Reva said, ‘Yes. That’s just Danny’s routine. Cathy also needs to know what it’s like looking after Danny. I mean, what it’s really like.’ She paused, and I saw her bottom lip tremble. ‘It’s been hell,’ she said. ‘Absolute hell. It’s a nightmare looking after Danny. I know it’s my fault, and some days I wish he’d never been born.’ Her face crumpled into tears.
Chapter Six
My heart went out to Reva. She was clearly carrying a huge burden of guilt and self-blame for Danny’s problems, and appeared to be at her wits’ end, and close to breaking point. Terri, Sue and I tried to reassure her, but her feelings of inadequacy were too deeply ingrained, and I wondered how much of this was a result of her husband’s attitude. Reva’s previous comment about him blaming her for having an autistic son weighed heavily in my thoughts. The last thing the poor woman needed was to be blamed by her partner; she needed all the help and support she could get.
Presently Reva dried her eyes and was composed enough to continue. ‘Danny cried a lot as a baby. I thought all babies cried, but my husband, Richard, said his other two children hadn’t cried as much as Danny did. He was married before. Danny’s my only child, so I had nothing to compare him to. But I became exhausted – up most of the night, every night. Danny didn’t seem to need much sleep. I read all the books I could find on parenting. I felt I must be doing something wrong, and if I’m honest Danny’s crying scared me. It seemed as if he wanted something and I should be able to work out what it was. He was out of control when
