need a bit of help, so I’m looking after you for a while.’
She stared at me wide-eyed and uncomprehending. I thought it best to keep her occupied and concentrated on something else. ‘Can you show me what a big girl you are and dress yourself while I see to your brother?’ I asked her. ‘Here are your clothes.’ I pointed to them on the bed and then lifted Kit out of his cot.
‘I need to do a wee-wee,’ she said.
‘Good girl for telling me.’
I took Kit with us as I helped Molly in the toilet and then we returned to their bedroom. With a bit of encouragement, Molly began to dress herself and I dressed Kit. Paula, Lucy and Adrian either looked in to say goodbye or called from the hall as they left.
Many toddlers of Kit’s age are like wriggly worms when you try to change their nappies and dress them, seeing it as a game. Kit just lay there on the changing mat, unresponsive and staring at me, clearly wondering where his mummy and daddy were, what he was doing here and who the hell I was. I smiled at him and spoke gently as I worked, so hopefully he could see I was friendly and would do him no harm. At his age it would be impossible to give him any understanding of the situation. Molly would have some understanding and might start talking about the abuse in time, but Kit was unlikely to ever be able to verbalize what he’d seen and heard. Babies and toddlers intuit, feeling rather than reasoning – sensations, impressions and random images that might fade with time. Neither child spoke or made any noise as Molly dressed herself and I dressed Kit. I found their silence as upsetting as their crying.
Once they were ready, I took hold of their hands and we went carefully downstairs. Included in the equipment I’d brought down from the loft was a stair gate and I’d put it in place once Kit started exploring. There was no sign of him doing that yet. He was staying close and clinging to either Molly or me.
In the kitchen-diner I asked Molly what she and Kit usually had for breakfast and she said yoghurt.
‘What about some cereal and toast as well?’ I asked. I opened the cupboard door where the packets of cereals were kept to show her and she pointed to the hot oat cereal – a smooth porridge.
‘Good girl.’ I took it out. ‘Does Kit have this too?’ She nodded. ‘What about toast?’ She shook her head. ‘What would you like to drink?’
‘Juice,’ she replied. ‘Where’s my mummy?’
‘At home, love. I expect she’s having her breakfast too.’
Kit was standing where I’d put him by my leg and I now lifted him up and carried him to the table where I strapped him into the booster seat, then gave him his trainer cup. Molly slipped into the chair beside him. ‘Good girl. Can you watch your brother while I make your porridge?’ I said, although I could see them both from the kitchen.
I warmed the porridge in the microwave, took the yoghurt from the fridge and joined them at the table. I’d had my breakfast earlier. Molly fed herself and I fed Kit. He tried to pick up his spoon, but the plaster cast clunked heavily against the bowl, making it impossible to dip in the spoon. They ate most of the porridge and a little yoghurt, and drank their juice, so I was happy with that and praised them.
‘We’ve got a busy day,’ I said, lifting Kit out of the seat. ‘First, we’ll go into the living room where the toys are and you can play while I make a phone call.’ I needed to speak to Edith.
I took them by the hand and they came with me into the living room, silent and obedient, where I settled them with some toys on the floor. It was now just after 9 a.m. and I was hoping Edith would be at her desk. Taking the handset from the corner unit, I keyed in her number and she answered.
‘Hello. How are you?’ she asked.
‘OK. Molly and Kit were placed yesterday late afternoon.’
‘Yes, Preeta left a message.’
‘I need some cover. Tess has arranged a meeting at one o’clock with the children’s parents, but I haven’t got anyone to look after the children.’
‘Who are your nominated support carers?’ she asked.
‘Lucy and Paula, but they are at work and college and it’s too short notice for them to take half a day off.’
‘Don’t the children go to nursery?’ she asked.
‘Not as far as I know.’
‘I don’t think we have anyone free. Can’t you take them with you?’
‘No.’ I kept my patience. ‘Can I suggest you try another foster carer – Maggie Taylor? We’ve helped each other out in the past.’
‘I can try, but if she can’t do it, can you change the day of the meeting?’
‘I doubt it. You’d have to ask Tess.’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she said with a small sigh. She clearly didn’t need this first thing on a Friday morning and neither did I, but part of her role was to support foster carers.
I then had a nail-biting wait. Foster carers are expected to provide their own support, and usually I did, but sometimes we need help and we shouldn’t have to jump through hoops or be made to feel guilty for asking. I’d found before that Edith wasn’t the most proactive of supervising social workers compared to Jill, who’d been my supervising social worker at Homefinders, the independent agency I used to foster for. She was a gem, but when their local office had closed and Jill had left, I’d transferred to the local authority. It didn’t make any difference to the children I fostered, but it was at times like this I missed the high level of support and understanding the agency gave its carers twenty-four hours a day, every day of the year.
Thankfully when Edith returned my call an hour later she said Maggie could help and she’d phone me to arrange the details. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Chapter Four
Maggie telephoned ten minutes after Edith, bright and bubbly, and very willing to help. ‘I hear you’ve got two little ones. That’ll make a nice change,’ she said.
‘Yes, although they’re missing their parents dreadfully and we’ve been up all night.’
‘Join the club. Anyway, happy to help. As the children have only just been placed with you, I suggest I come to you to look after them, rather than you bringing them here, so they don’t have another change of house.’
‘Yes, please. That would be perfect.’ I had thought similar myself.
‘I’ll have to bring Keelie with me,’ Maggie said. ‘She’s been excluded from school again. But she’s good with kids and can help me. What time do you want us?’
‘The meeting is at one o’clock so twelve-thirty would be good.’
‘Fine. We’ll see you then.’
‘Thank you so much.’
‘You’re
