but she remained impassive. Edna touched her arm. ‘It's all right, Donna. You are doing very well.’
I looked at Donna and my heart went out to her: she appeared to be suffering so much, and in silence. I would have preferred her to have been angry, like so many of the children who had come to me. Shouting abuse and throwing things seemed a lot healthier than internalising all the pain, as Donna was. Huddled forward with her arms crossed, it was as though Donna was giving herself the hug of comfort she so badly needed. Again I felt the urge to go and sit beside her and hug her for all I was worth.
At that moment Adrian burst in through the open French windows, quickly followed by Paula. ‘I've brought in my wrapper,’ he said, offering the Cornetto wrapper; then he stopped as he saw Edna and Donna.
‘Good boy,’ I said. ‘Adrian, this is Donna, who will be coming to stay with us, and this is her social worker, Edna.’
‘Hello, Adrian,’ Edna said with her warm smile, putting him immediately at ease.
‘Hi,’ he said.
‘And you must be Paula?’ Edna said.
Paula grinned sheepishly and gave me her Cornetto wrapper.
‘How old are you?’ Edna asked.
‘I'm ten,’ Adrian said, ‘and she's six.’
‘I'm six,’ Paula said, feeling she was quite able to tell Edna how old she was herself. Donna still had her eyes trained on the floor; she hadn't even looked up as Adrian and Paula had bounced in.
‘That's lovely, isn't it, Donna?’ Edna said, trying again to engage Donna; then, addressing Adrian and Paula, ‘Donna has two younger brothers, aged seven and six. It will be nice for her to have someone her own age to play with.’ This clearly didn't impress Adrian, for at his age girls were something you dangled worms in front of to make them scream but didn't actually play with. And given the difference in size — Donna was a good four inches taller than Adrian — she would be more like an older sister than one of his peer group.
‘You can play with me now,’ Paula said, spying a golden opportunity for some girl company.
‘That's a good idea,’ Edna said to Paula. ‘Although we won't be staying long — we've got a lot to do.’ Placing her hand on Donna's arm again, Edna said, ‘Donna, you go in the garden with Paula for a few minutes, and then we will show you around the house and go.’
I looked at Donna and wondered if she would follow what had been an instruction from Edna rather than a request. Edna, Adrian and Paula looked too.
‘Come on,’ Paula said. ‘Come and play with me.’ She placed her little hand on the sleeve of Donna's T-shirt and gave it a small tug. I noticed Donna didn't pull away.
‘Go on, Donna,’ Edna encouraged. ‘A few minutes in the garden and then we must go.’
‘Come on, Donna,’ Paula said again and she gave her T-shirt another tug. ‘You can push me on the swing.’
With her arms still folded across her waist and not looking up, Donna slowly stood. She was like a little old woman dragging herself to do the washing up rather than a ten-year-old going to play in the garden.
‘Good girl,’ Edna said. We both watched as, with her head lowered, Donna allowed Paula to gently ease her out of the French windows and into the garden. Adrian watched, mesmerised, and then looked at me questioningly. I knew what he was thinking: children didn't usually have this much trouble going into the garden to play.
‘Donna is a bit upset,’ I said to him. ‘She'll be all right. You can go and play too.’
He turned and went out, and Edna and I watched them go down the garden. Adrian returned to his archaeological pursuits in the sandpit while Paula, still holding Donna's T-shirt, led her towards the swings.
‘Paula will be fine with Donna,’ Edna said, reading my thoughts. ‘Donna is good with little ones.’ While I hadn't thought that Donna would hit Paula, she was so much bigger, and it had crossed my mind that all her pent-up emotion could easily be released in any number of ways, including physical aggression. Edna gave a little sigh and returned to the sofa. I sat next to her so that I could keep an eye on what was happening down the garden.
‘I've had a very busy morning,’ Edna said. ‘Mary and Ray, Donna's present carers, phoned me first thing and demanded that I remove Donna immediately. I've had to cancel all my appointments for the whole day to deal with this.’
I nodded. ‘Donna seems very sad,’ I said.
‘Yes.’ She gave another little sigh. ‘Cathy, I really can't understand what has gone so badly wrong. All the carers are saying is that Donna is obsessively possessive with her brothers, Warren and Jason, and won't let Mary and Ray take care of them. Apparently they've had to physically remove her more than once from the room so that they could take care of the boys. Donna is a big girl and I understand there have been quite a few ugly scenes. Mary showed me a bruise on her arm, which she said Donna had done last night when she and Ray had tried to get her out of the bathroom so that the boys could be bathed. They are experienced carers, but feel they can't continue to look after Donna.’
I frowned, as puzzled as Edna was, for the description she had just given me of Donna hardly matched the silent withdrawn child who had slunk in unable even to look at me.
‘The boys are staying with Mary and Ray for now,’ Edna continued. ‘They all go to the same school, so you will meet Ray and Mary when school returns. They are both full-time carers; Ray took early retirement. They are approved to look after three children and have done so in the past, very successfully, so I really don't know what's gone wrong here.’
Neither did I from what Edna was saying, but it wasn't my place to second guess or criticise. ‘Looking after three children has probably been too much,’ I said. ‘It's a lot of work looking after one, let alone three, particularly when they have just come into care and are upset and still adjusting.’
Edna nodded thoughtfully and glanced down the garden, as I did. Donna was pushing Paula on the swing, but whereas Paula was in her element and squealing with delight, Donna appeared to be performing a mundane duty and was taking no enjoyment whatsoever in the task.
‘Is Donna all right doing that?’ I asked. ‘She doesn't have to push Paula on the swing.’
‘I'm sure she is fine, Cathy. She's showing no enthusiasm for anything at present.’ Edna returned her gaze to me. ‘I've been working with Donna's family for three years now. I have really tried to keep them together, but her mum just couldn't cope. I put in place all the support I could. I have even been going round to their home and helping to wash and iron the clothes, and clean the house, but by my next visit it's always filthy again. I had no alternative but to bring them into care.’ Edna looked at me with deep regret and I knew she was taking it personally, feeling that she had failed in not keeping the family together, despite all her efforts. Edna was certainly one conscientious and dedicated social worker, and Donna was very lucky to have her.
‘You obviously did all you could,’ I offered. ‘There can't be many who would have done all that,’ and I meant it.
Edna looked at me. ‘Donna's family has a long history with social services, and mum herself was in and out of care as a child. Donna's father is not supposed to be living at the family home but he was there only last week
