My mind was reeling from the disclosures. I couldn’t help replaying them over and over in my mind, hearing and seeing the awful truth as portrayed through the words and actions of an innocent eight-year-old girl. It was hard to get the frightful images she’d evoked out of my mind, and as I went about the homely, normal actions of making lunch the horror of what I had just learned overlaid everything I did. It felt as though an awful poison had been released into the atmosphere, and I couldn’t shake the sense of dread and revulsion that engulfed me.
Jodie, on the other hand, seemed to have recovered quickly, and devoured her sandwiches, crisps and yoghurt, then asked for more.
‘You’ve had enough,’ I said, ignoring the protests that followed.
In the conservatory, I cleared the small table that would act as a desk, and laid out some paper and pencils ready for Nicola’s arrival. Jodie followed me round, excited at the prospect of seeing her tutor again. When the doorbell rang she flew to answer it, but then remembered my warning, and waited for me to join her.
‘Good girl,’ I said, and she gave me a hug.
I’d met Nicola briefly at the pre-placement meeting, and I’d been immediately impressed. Her calm, firm approach was exactly what Jodie needed. Jodie clearly shared my enthusiasm, as she greeted Nicola like a long-lost friend. Nicola seemed pleased to see her too, and she chatted pleasantly to Jodie as she took off her coat and gathered her things together.
We went through to the conservatory, where Jodie clambered into her seat, and started scribbling furiously on the paper I’d laid out. In a good impersonation of Mary Poppins, Nicola delved into her large upholstered bag, and brought out a huge assortment of workbooks, sheets and brightly coloured teaching aids. Jodie was mesmerized.
‘We’ll get started now,’ Nicola said efficiently. ‘I usually take a break halfway through. Perhaps we could discuss her progress then?’
‘That’s fine. I’ll bring some drinks and snacks for half time.’ I checked she had all she needed, then left them to it, grateful to have been relieved of the responsibility, if only for a couple of hours. Upstairs, I closed my bedroom door so I wouldn’t be overheard, then perched on the bed with the phone at my side. I ran through what I was going to say. I hadn’t had time to write up my log notes yet, but it was all still clear in my head, and depressingly vivid. I keyed in the numbers, and the secretary answered.
‘Jill, please. It’s Cathy.’
‘I’ll put you through.’
A click, then Jill’s voice. ‘Hello Cathy, is everything all right?’
‘No. It’s not. Jodie’s been sexually abused. I’m sure of it. She couldn’t make up this lot.’ I quickly ran through the disclosures, explaining how Jodie had used the doll to tell me, and repeating what she’d said almost word for word.
Jill was silent for a second, and then asked, ‘How are you, Cathy? No one had any idea.’
No idea? Knowing what I now knew, it was hard to believe that no one could have guessed what was going on – but I had to give the Social Services the benefit of the doubt. Obviously if anyone had suspected what was happening, Jodie would have been removed earlier. But how could they have missed all the signs, and for so long? Perhaps they’d focused on the obvious physical abuse of knocks and burns and broken bones, rather than a deeper and more vicious evil.
Now that I didn’t have to control my emotions in front of Jodie, I could feel the shock and upset welling up in me. My eyes pricked and my vision blurred as hot tears filled them. I felt such an awful mixture of impotent fury and utter sadness on Jodie’s behalf. Nevertheless, I couldn’t let myself fall to pieces. I had to be strong, for Jodie’s sake. I took a deep breath. ‘I’m upset, obviously. But at least it’s out in the open. And it does explain why she’s so disturbed. In fact, it explains a lot of things – it’s no wonder she wants to hurt herself and has shut herself off from the world. And, Jill, it sounds like it’s been going on for years. She was quite matter-of-fact in the way she described it, as if it was normal.’
There was another pause. I knew Jill was affected by what I had told her. Revelations of sexual abuse are something that anyone in children’s social work will encounter, but they never lose their power to shock and horrify, and Jodie’s story was particularly appalling. The idea that a small child could have been undergoing this kind of ordeal over a period of years was almost too awful to contemplate.
After a moment’s silence, Jill swung into action. ‘Right, I’ll contact Eileen as soon as we’ve finished. We’ll have to look at contact ASAP. I’ll need your notes. Can you write them up while the tutor’s there and email me over a copy?’
‘I’ll do my best.’
‘Jodie obviously trusts you, Cathy, more than she’s trusted anyone before. She’s been in care for four months and said nothing. What I don’t understand is where was the mother while all this was going on.’
‘I know. From the way Jodie told it, it’s hard to imagine that her mother didn’t have any idea. But I just don’t know. She wasn’t mentioned.’
‘Would Jodie answer a direct question if you asked?’
‘I’m not sure. She told me this, but it was as a result of playing with the doll. I think it was triggered by being in the lift.’
‘The lift?’
‘Yes. When we went shopping, she was scared in the lift, so much so that I had to stop it and take the escalator. It was like she equated the fear to being scared with her father, and I think that may have been the catalyst for the disclosure. Do you want me to ask about her mother?’
‘Yes. But don’t push it. It might all come out now she’s started, or it might take time. See what you can find out and get as much information as you can – obviously, as gently as possible.’ I heard Jill draw her breath in sharply. ‘For Christ’s sake, she’s been on the at-risk register since birth and there’s been nothing! Someone’s head is on the block for this.’
Jill was angry, understandably, just as I was. Although her role was mainly supervisory, Jill cared deeply for the children we fostered. You couldn’t do this kind of work without becoming emotionally involved.
‘You know, Jill,’ I added, ‘she talks a lot of stuff and nonsense with all her imaginary friends. Sometimes it’s hard to get a word of sense out her. But I’ve never seen her so clear and focused as when she was describing this. It was like she was a different person.’
‘Thank goodness she’s with you. Let me get things moving and speak to you later. If there’s anything else call me straight away.’
‘OK.’
I replaced the receiver and leaned back, daunted by the responsibility. Now Jodie had opened up, there was no way I could terminate the placement, whatever she threw at me. Without realizing it, Jodie had invested a lot of trust by telling me. I couldn’t let her feel that her trust had been misplaced. I stood up and went downstairs. As I passed the lounge I could hear Nicola reading a series of short words, which Jodie was repeating in her childish voice; she sounded like a four-year-old.
I continued along the hall to the front room, took the foster carer’s log out of my desk, and started writing up my notes. I wrote quickly, trying to get everything down as accurately as possible,
