nodded. ‘I understand. Don’t worry. They’ll be fine.’
‘Do they talk?’ Keelie asked. The children were standing in silence, watching her as she continued to explore the toys and games.
‘Molly does a little,’ I said. ‘It’s likely Kit will have some language at his age. But they only arrived yesterday, so they are both shy.’
‘Was I shy?’ Keelie asked Maggie, glancing up at her.
‘No, love, shyness wasn’t really your thing. You showed your upset in other ways.’
‘I bet I was a right pain in the arse.’ Keelie grinned.
‘Not as much as you are now,’ Maggie replied affectionately, and they both laughed. Despite their banter, I knew how close they were and that Maggie and her husband had worked wonders with Keelie and loved her, as I was sure Keelie loved them.
I said goodbye and drove to the council offices, where I parked in a side road. It was a bright, sunny day and the early-September sun still had some strength in it. I signed in at the reception desk, completing the boxes that asked the reason for my visit and my time of arrival.
‘Which room is the meeting in?’ I asked the receptionist as I hung the security pass around my neck.
‘Room six on the second floor.’
I thanked her and began up the staircase. I’d been here before. Most of the social services meetings were in rooms on the second floor. I was anxious at meeting the children’s parents, Aneta and Filip, for the first time, but I reassured myself I’d met countless parents during my fostering career, and that they were likely to be as anxious as me. When I’d fostered for Homefinders Jill had accompanied me to most meetings, but Edith didn’t. It wasn’t part of the supervising social worker’s role at the local authority. I thought it probably should be, especially for new carers who must find some of these meetings quite daunting.
I was a few minutes early as I arrived outside room six, knocked on the door and went in. A man and a woman I took to be Molly and Kit’s parents sat at the table with their backs to me. At right angles to them and at the end of the table was Tess. Preeta sat opposite the couple. As I entered they fell silent and everyone looked at me. The faces of the parents were the epitome of grief and worry.
‘Hello, I’m Cathy,’ I said as I sat opposite them and next to Preeta. ‘I hope I’m not late.’
‘No. We were early,’ Tess said. Then to the parents, ‘Cathy is the foster carer.’
I threw them a small smile. Aneta just stared at me a bit like the children did, while her husband gave a short nod and looked away. I knew him to be older than his wife, but clearly the worry had aged them both. They had dark circles around their eyes, their foreheads were furrowed in permanent lines, and Aneta had a tissue pressed to her cheek from where she’d been crying. I could see the familial likeness, especially in Filip. Kit was the image of him. Both parents were dressed smart casual, in jeans and jerseys.
‘OK, let’s begin,’ Tess said, drawing herself upright in her chair. ‘This is a short informal meeting so you can all meet. I won’t be taking minutes, but Preeta will make a few notes.’ Aneta sniffed and I could see she wasn’t far from tears. ‘I appreciate this is a very emotional time for you,’ Tess said, looking at the parents, ‘so we’ll keep this meeting short, then you can see Molly and Kit.’
‘When can I see them?’ Aneta asked. I took my pen and notepad from my bag.
‘I’ve arranged contact at the Family Centre for four o’clock this afternoon,’ Tess said. Then to me, ‘That will give you time to go home, collect the children, and take them there.’
‘Yes,’ I said as I wrote: 4 p.m., Family Centre.
‘After today we can probably make contact earlier when the Family Centre is less busy, but I’ll let you know. Cathy, can you tell us how Molly and Kit are settling in, please?’
I looked at the parents. It was heart-breaking to see their anguish. Aneta was wiping away fresh tears. How parents cope with losing their children I’ll never know. Whatever had happened, they didn’t set out to lose their children.
‘Molly and Kit are lovely children,’ I began. ‘They are a credit to you. They’re obviously missing you, but they’re eating well and –’
‘What have you given them to eat?’ Aneta interrupted anxiously.
I thought back. ‘For dinner last night we had cottage pie,’ I said. ‘For breakfast they had hot oat cereal, which Molly chose, and then some yoghurt. For lunch today they had a cheese sandwich and some fruit.’
Filip nodded, but Aneta was looking even more worried and I wondered if there was something wrong in what I’d said. ‘Will the person looking after them now give them anything to eat?’ she asked, so I guessed Tess or Preeta had told them of the child-minding arrangements.
‘Possibly a drink and a biscuit,’ I replied. ‘Why? Is there a problem?’
‘You have to be very careful what you give them to eat and drink,’ Aneta said intensely. ‘My children have a lot of allergies and can easily fall sick.’
‘Can you tell me what the allergies are?’ I asked, my pen ready. ‘So I know which foods to avoid. I understood they didn’t have any allergies.’ Preeta was ready to write too.
‘Lots of things make them sick,’ Aneta said defensively. ‘I can’t tell you them all, and they change. I’m always at the doctor’s or hospital with my children. Not even the doctors can find out what’s wrong with them.’
‘I see,’ I said. Of course, Tess had told me the doctor’s view was that they didn’t have any allergies. ‘Can you narrow down the allergy to a group of foods? For example, is it dairy produce?’
‘Can you narrow it down at all?’ Tess asked, and I thought she looked sceptical.
Aneta shook her head. ‘No, and it’s not always food,’ she said vehemently. ‘Sometimes it can be the stuff I wash clothes in, or they brush past something or it’s in the air. You mustn’t use bubble bath.’
‘No, I don’t anyway. Young skin is delicate so I keep bathing simple – just a bit of baby shampoo for their hair.’
‘That can cause an allergic reaction too,’ she said with anxious satisfaction. I noticed she was becoming more agitated as she spoke, while Filip sat with his eyes down, concentrating on the table, apparently completely out of his depth.
‘How do these allergic reactions manifest themselves?’ Preeta asked. I’d written allergies on my notepad ready to list them, but so far I’d just put bubble bath, which I didn’t use anyway.
‘My children get a temperature and start vomiting,’ Aneta said animatedly. ‘I have to get an emergency appointment at the doctor’s or call an ambulance. But it stops as suddenly as it starts.’
‘Do they have a rash?’ I asked.
‘Sometimes, but usually they vomit.’ Her face crumpled and her tears fell again. ‘You should never have taken my children away,’ she
