‘I’ve read the contact supervisor’s reports for Monday and Wednesday,’ Tess said. ‘Nothing stands out. I won’t get today’s report until Monday. I think I should observe contact on Monday. Will you tell Molly and Kit I’ll be there, please?’
‘Yes, and Tess, I’m still waiting for the details of any food they’ve had at contact.’
‘I’ll chase it up. Is it all right if I give the contact supervisor your email address and ask her to email you the details direct?’
‘Yes, please,’ I said. ‘I find it difficult to believe it is anything they’re eating there, as Aneta will be monitoring what they have closely, but I need to include it in the diary so we can eliminate it. Aneta sent some biscuits and juice home with them today, so I can cross those off.’ Parents often take food and drink into contact for their children. If it’s not consumed, they usually send it back with the children so it doesn’t go to waste. The children love the food and snacks from their parents, they are very special and a tie with home. Sometimes parents prepare meals for the child to bring home and have at their carer’s.
Having informed Tess that Kit and Molly had been ill again, there wasn’t much else I could do but watch them closely. Neither of them was especially upset at being sick. I think because they’d been ill so often it had sadly become the norm for them. The rash on Kit’s chest hadn’t spread and both of them were breathing easily, although Molly did say she had a tummy ache. I told her I thought it would pass but to tell me if it didn’t.
Paula, Lucy and I dressed the children in their pyjamas and we went downstairs. I served dinner around 6.30 p.m. Molly and Kit both ate a reasonable amount, so I didn’t think it was a tummy bug they’d both picked up. After dinner we adopted our usual routine of Paula and Lucy looking after Molly while I took Kit up to bed. The children were more settled and didn’t cry so often. The bruises and swelling on Kit’s face were hardly visible now. As I settled him in his cot that night I checked the rash on his chest. It was fading fast. It appeared to be as Aneta had said – that the allergic reactions came and went very quickly. But what was causing them? I still hadn’t a clue.
When I took Molly to bed she asked when she would be seeing Mummy and Daddy again. I explained it was the weekend and pointed to the calendar showing Saturday and Sunday, and then Monday when she next had contact. ‘But on Sunday we are all going to see my mummy,’ I said with a smile. ‘She is Adrian, Lucy and Paula’s nana.’
Molly looked a bit puzzled and I explained what a nana and grandpa were. As far as I knew she didn’t have experience of grandparents. Filip’s parents were dead and Aneta’s mother lived abroad and they didn’t see her. ‘You’ll like Nana,’ I said. ‘All the children I look after do.’
Molly snuggled down with her soft toy, I tucked her in and then sat with her for a while. After a few minutes I said, ‘Goodnight, sleep tight, I’ll see you in the morning.’ I came out and left her to go to sleep. Now the children were more familiar with their surroundings, my family and me, it was reasonable they could go to sleep without one of us being there, though I would of course check on them, answer their cries and settle them as necessary. I waited on the landing for a few minutes, but Molly was soon asleep.
During the evening I checked Kit’s rash a couple of times, tiptoeing to his cot and gently lifting his top. By the time I went to bed it had completely disappeared. I supposed that whatever had caused it was no longer in his system or he was no longer in contact with it. Aneta had said that it wasn’t always food that caused a reaction, but it could be something in the air or that they brushed past, like pollen or germs or washing powder. It was a minefield and as far as I knew the tests done so far had failed to identify a cause.
That night both children slept through till morning and I praised them. Up until then one or other of them had woken and needed resettling. I felt on top of the world after seven hours sleep, and the children looked more refreshed too. Paula, Lucy and Adrian played with them first thing in the morning and then I took them supermarket shopping, which gave my family some time to themselves. Little ones are lovely, but they are full on and need to be watched and kept amused the whole time. In the supermarket I put Kit in the trolley seat and Molly walked beside me, helping to take the items we needed from the shelves. If she couldn’t reach, I lifted her up. The shopping took twice as long as normal, but it kept the children amused. They were very well behaved. Kit sat contentedly in the trolley, watching everything going on around him, and Molly didn’t demand sweets as some children do. I sensed that going to the supermarket was as much a novelty for them as it was for me shopping with two little ones. I loved it.
Once home, Adrian unpacked the car and helped put away the groceries, and then after lunch he went to see Kirsty. Lucy went out too later, and once Paula had finished her college work she came downstairs and joined me to play with Molly and Kit. I saw her looking at them a little sadly, clearly deep in thought.
‘It must be awful for their parents at the weekend,’ she said. ‘Having all that time to fill without their children.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘And for Aneta it’s during the week too. Her husband worked long hours so for most of the day and evening there was just her and Molly and Kit.’ I hardly dared think about it: to be a full-time mother, when your life revolved around your children – your reason for living – and then to suddenly have them taken away was the stuff of nightmares. Little wonder Aneta had needed a sedative.
‘Do you think she did hurt them?’ Paula presently asked. I’d told my family what they needed to know about the reasons the children were in care.
‘I honestly don’t know, but clearly the social services think so. Ultimately, the judge will decide.’
‘I hope they get it right,’ Paula said, worried.
‘So do I.’
Usually, in respect of the children I fostered I felt the right decision had been made to bring them into care, but with Molly and Kit I harboured doubts. However, as the foster carer, I didn’t have all the information the social services had, and my job was to look after the children, log anything relevant and basically do as I was told, not question decisions.
That night both children slept well again and I felt we had turned a corner, in their sleeping at least. Yes, they would have restless nights from time to time as all children do, but we had established a bedtime routine that was working. I think sleeping apart was helping too, as they didn’t wake each other.
I took the food diary with us to my mother’s on Sunday so I could add to it during the day. I’d booked a table at a pub restaurant not far from where she lived. We drove in convoy to her house, the children, Lucy and me in my car – the smell of disinfectant still lingering – and Adrian, Kirsty and Paula in his car. Mum lives about an hour’s drive away and Lucy fed CDs of children’s songs into the player to keep them amused.
Mum was overjoyed to see us all and completely taken by Molly and Kit, as I knew she would be. They took to her too. She’s everybody’s idea of what a grandmother should be: kind, caring, gentle, loving, attentive and with plenty of time for everyone. Molly was a little quiet to begin with but soon thawed out and from then on monopolized Mum. It wasn’t long before Kit had scrambled onto her lap, where he stayed while she tried to talk to us.
I made us coffee and cold drinks for the children, and then just before one o’clock we drove to the restaurant. It was very popular for Sunday lunch and was buzzing with conversation. Adrian lifted Kit into the high chair provided and he and Kirsty sat either side of him. We sat Molly on a booster seat opposite Kit and between Lucy and Paula. I sat next to Mum so we could have a chat. On the floor by my chair was what
