‘I’ve asked him to stay in tonight,’ I explained. ‘I think that going out, and coming-home times, is something we need to discuss.’
‘Let’s deal with that first then, shall we?’ Verity said positively and, taking a pen from her bag, she opened a notepad on her lap.
‘At my gran’s I went out whenever I wanted,’ Stevie said ruefully.
‘But that didn’t work, love, did it?’ I said to him.
Stevie and I both looked at Verity for her view, but she didn’t immediately reply. I’ve found before that social workers are sometimes reluctant to talk straight to the teenagers in their care in case it jeopardises their relationship. I didn’t have the same reservations, for ultimately the young person I was fostering was my responsibility and I needed to keep them safe.
‘What do you suggest?’ Verity asked me after a moment.
‘I think it’s reasonable that Stevie sees his friends at the weekends. If he wants to go out then I suggest Friday and/or Saturday evening.’ Stevie was glaring at me, but I continued anyway. ‘During the week he’ll have homework to do, and I am assuming he’ll want to see his grandparents and brother and sister.’
‘That won’t work,’ Stevie said. ‘I need to be able to go out when I want, not when she says.’
I was now seeing a different side to him. Gone was his previous charm and charisma, and here was a belligerent teenager, which, to be honest, I found more natural and quite reassuring.
Verity was waiting for my response. ‘Why won’t it work?’ I asked Stevie. ‘I’m sure your friends have similar arrangements at their homes. We’ll also need to set the time you are to be back, and I’ll need to know where you are going and how you will get home.’
‘That’s fucking ridiculous!’ Stevie stormed. ‘I’m not a kid!’
‘No, but you are still a minor,’ I said.
‘Cathy and I have a duty to protect you and keep you safe,’ Verity added.
‘Bollocks!’ Stevie fumed. ‘You’re like my bleeding grandparents,’ he said to me, and I don’t think he meant it as a compliment.
‘OK,’ Verity said, drawing a breath and addressing Stevie. ‘What if we say you can go out Friday and Saturday, plus one day in the week. Does that help?’
‘A bit,’ he conceded.
‘Good.’
This was far more than Adrian, Lucy and Paula had ever been allowed out at his age, but then going out hadn’t been an issue for them as the boundaries had been in place from the start. It’s far more difficult to change behaviour once it’s set. Stevie, like many teenagers who come into care because of behavioural issues, had been used to his freedom and didn’t want to relinquish it. I had to be realistic and accept a compromise. ‘OK. Coming-home times,’ I said, moving on. ‘I would like Stevie to be back by nine o’clock at the latest on a weekday and nine-thirty at the weekend. I will also need to know where he is and how he will get home.’
‘I won’t know what time I’ll be back,’ he said disparagingly.
‘You will,’ I said, ‘by leaving wherever you are on time.’
‘But what if I can’t? I might not be able to leave and come home when you say.’ Which seemed an odd thing to say, but he was looking worried and that wasn’t my intention at all.
‘You’ll have your phone with you,’ I said. ‘So on the rare occasion you can’t help being late, you can phone or text me. Remember, this isn’t about me wanting to stop you having fun, but about keeping you safe.’
‘Like Gran,’ he said, with less hostility.
So I thought that maybe he was starting to realise his grandparents’ boundaries were not so unreasonable after all.
‘We’ll say nine o’clock on a weekday and ten at the weekend,’ Verity said, making a note. ‘And you’ll let Cathy know where you are and how you are going to get home?’
Stevie shrugged and took his phone from his pocket to check it.
‘Do you have credit on your phone?’ Verity asked him.
‘No,’ he said, without looking up.
‘Can you top it up?’ she said to me.
‘Yes. How much a month?’ The guidelines change in line with inflation and telephone call charges.
‘How much phone credit was your gran giving you?’ Verity asked him.
‘Twenty pounds a month.’
‘We’ll keep to that then,’ Verity said.
I made a note. Stevie nodded and continued scrolling down his phone. This seemed a good time to say what I wanted to in respect of his phone.
‘I understand it is now possible to restrict internet access on mobile phones,’ I said to Verity. She nodded. ‘I was wondering if Stevie’s grandparents had done that when they bought his phone?’
‘No,’ Stevie sneered, ‘of course they didn’t. They wouldn’t know how. But I’m not downloading porn if that’s what you think.’
‘It’s not,’ I said. ‘It just seems a sensible precaution.’ But I knew there was no use in pursuing this. Had the internet access been restricted on his phone from the start he would have accepted it, but not now at his age. Looking after teenagers is give-and-take and this was something I had to let go, like the number of times he was allowed out in the evening, and hope he was sensible. ‘While we’re talking about mobiles,’ I continued, ‘I have a couple of small house rules.’ Stevie sighed. ‘I like all mobiles switched off at night so everyone gets a good night’s sleep, and I ask that no mobiles are used at the dinner table.’
‘That seems reasonable,’ Verity said. Stevie didn’t object, but whether he would comply or not remained to be seen. ‘School,’ Verity said as she finished writing, moving on.
‘Cathy says I have to go tomorrow,’ Stevie said moodily.
‘I’m not sure that will happen,’ Verity said to me. ‘His mentor wants to see him first. She arranged a meeting last week with his grandparents, but Stevie didn’t show.’
‘I wasn’t well,’ he said, looking at his phone.
‘Oh dear, but you’re better now,’ I said. ‘If Stevie and I could meet with his mentor tomorrow perhaps he could be in school the following day?’ I suggested to Verity.
‘I don’t see why not,’ she replied. ‘The mentor’s contact details are on the Essential Information form. I’ll leave a copy for you. Have you got your school uniform here with you?’ she now asked Stevie.
He nodded glumly without taking his eyes from his phone. ‘It’s my other stuff I haven’t got.’
