and Kit’s home then she would.
Chapter Twelve
The review forms sent by Tess arrived – one for me as the foster carer to fill in and one for each child. Given that, at their ages, Molly and Kit couldn’t read or write, I would complete their forms for them. They were standard review forms, brightly illustrated to encourage the children to give their views on being in care. At eighteen months old, Kit was more interested in playing than the form, but Molly looked at it as I pointed to the questions and read them out. The first question asked if they knew why they were in care. Not really, only eighteen months old, I wrote on Kit’s. Molly said, ‘Because we kept going to the hospital.’ Which was interesting.
I wrote down exactly what she said but then reassured her that it wasn’t wrong to go to the hospital and she was in care to help her mummy and daddy. The next question asked what the child liked about living with their foster carer and what they didn’t like. On Kit’s form I’d written: Likes playing and going to the park, although he misses his mother. Unable to verbalize his feelings as only eighteen months old. Molly said she liked playing with the big girls (Lucy and Paula) and didn’t like not seeing her mummy. I wrote it down exactly. There were ten questions in all – some included emoji faces with various expressions, ranging from happy to sad to angry. I asked Molly to point to the ones that showed how she was feeling and I circled them. On the back of the booklets was space where the child had to sign their name and I helped Molly write her name and she looked very pleased with herself. I put the biro into Kit’s fist and helped him make a mark.
‘Mine’s better,’ Molly said.
‘Of course, you’re older,’ I smiled.
Beneath their ‘signatures’ was another space where the name of any person who had helped the child complete the form had to be entered and I wrote my name and role – foster carer. I would complete my form later when I had more time and then post them all to the reviewing officer in the envelope provided, so they arrived ahead of the review. The Independent Reviewing Officer (IRO) would run and chair the meeting.
Edith visited as planned and met Molly and Kit for the first time. She confirmed Maggie could babysit while I attended the review and that I should phone her to make the arrangements. We sat in the living room and as the children played she made notes on how the children were settling in – both from her observations and what I said. We discussed some of the issues that affected them, especially their illnesses. She read and signed my log notes and then produced a printed list of foster-carer training that was scheduled for the coming months. All foster carers are required to attend a minimum number of training sessions each year, and as an experienced carer I was expected to lead training too. So far this year I’d completed far more than the minimum, but I told Edith that while I’d fulfil my training obligations, I wouldn’t be taking on extra as I’d have to find a babysitter each time for Molly and Kit, which she noted. When I’d worked for Homefinders, an independent fostering agency, they’d provided a crèche for carers who were looking after babies and pre-school children so the carer could attend training. The local authority didn’t, and carers who foster infants sometimes struggle to meet their training requirements.
Edith concluded her visit by looking around my house and asking if there’d been any changes to my household, as she was obliged to do at each visit. All members of a fostering household are police-checked (DBS), even non-permanent members. So if, for example, Kirsty began staying at weekends, she’d have to be police-checked. It is intrusive and some might say unreasonable, but it’s to protect the looked-after child and something foster carers have to accept. Satisfied all was well, Edith said she’d see me at the review and, saying goodbye to the children, she left.
Tamara Hastings, the Guardian ad Litem, was the next professional to visit. She arrived smartly dressed in grey trousers, jacket and blouse and was of average height and build. I guessed her to be in her fifties. She had a quiet, confident manner and was clearly used to talking to children. She accepted my offer of a coffee and drank it while sitting on the floor, playing with Molly and Kit and getting to know them. As she played she also talked to me, asking how they were settling in, what they liked to do, Molly’s attitude to Kit and if they’d been ill at all. Clearly, she already had a good grasp of the issues that had brought the children into care. She said that if there was something we couldn’t discuss in front of the children she’d phone me, and she’d also give me her number and email address before she left. She said she’d seen Molly and Kit’s parents once and would be seeing them and the children again during the coming months. She then sat on the sofa to make some notes as the children played.
‘When the children were ill did you seek medical help?’ she asked after a moment.
‘No, I didn’t think it was necessary. Once they’d been sick they recovered quickly, and neither of them fitted or had difficulty breathing. Kit had a small rash on his stomach for a couple of hours, which I monitored, but it cleared up. I would seek medical help, even call an ambulance, if I thought it was necessary.’
‘I am sure you would,’ she said as she wrote. ‘I am trying to gauge the seriousness of these mysterious illnesses that both children suffer from.’ I thought the term ‘mysterious illnesses’ summed it up. ‘Aneta appears to have become very anxious about her children’s health. I am wondering if a less anxious parent might not have sought medical intervention as often as she did. Are you aware of the number of times she took them to the doctor and hospital?’
‘I know it’s a lot. I think she is anxious about them being ill and catching germs.’ I told her what Molly had said in the park about germs and having to clean their hands and the play equipment with antibacterial wipes. She nodded as she wrote. ‘But I understand the children were also taken to hospital with injuries,’ I said. ‘The last being Kit’s broken arm.’
‘Yes, that’s correct,’ she replied, but she didn’t elaborate. ‘How is his arm now? He seems to be using it without a problem.’
‘It’s far more comfortable now it’s in a splint.’ I explained what the doctor at the fracture clinic had said and gave her the date of the follow-up appointment.
‘How would you say Kit and Molly get along?’ she asked, glancing at the children as they played.
‘Fine. They seem to be very close. They were sharing a bedroom, but Tess asked me to separate them. Kit’s cot is in my room now.’
‘How did that affect them?’
‘The first night they were both unsettled and upset, but they’ve accepted the new arrangements now.’
‘They share a bedroom at home,’ Tamara said flatly.
‘Yes, I know, which is why it seemed strange that I had to separate them here, although it’s not a problem.’
‘Aneta has a baby monitor in the children’s bedroom at home,’ Tamara said, ‘so she can hear if Molly gets out of bed. She checks on them regularly and goes into their room if she hears anything suspicious.’
‘I could have put a monitor in their room here,’ I said. ‘Then they could have stayed together.’
‘Aneta didn’t want that. She was concerned you wouldn’t answer their calls or keep checking on them as she does, and that Molly would hurt Kit again.’
‘Of course I would have checked on them,’ I said, a little affronted.
