A Terrible Secret

‘Oh Lucy,’ I began.

‘No, don’t get me wrong, I know I’m wanted now, but all those early years before I came to you. I didn’t want to bring a child into the world unless I could commit to it unconditionally, one hundred per cent. It’s not fair on the child. That’s why I needed time to think.’

‘I understand, and presumably you needed to discuss it with Darren too?’ I said.

‘Yes, that as well, but I felt the decision ultimately had to be mine, as we hadn’t been going out for very long. I thought if I went ahead, the child would be my responsibility. I mean, I couldn’t expect Darren to commit after we’d only been in a relationship for a few months.’

I nodded sombrely.

‘So we’ve done a lot of talking,’ Lucy continued, ‘and he’s saying he does want to commit. But even if he drops out along the way, it won’t affect my decision. Mum, I’m going to have the baby. I’ll give them all the love and care in the world. I know how to be a good mother thanks to you.’ She kissed my cheek.

I felt so emotional I couldn’t speak, and while I was pleased, I could also see all the problems that lay ahead. I hugged her.

‘So you are going to be a grandma,’ Lucy said after a moment. ‘What do you think about that?’

‘I think I’m too young,’ I replied, laughing, and blinked back a tear. ‘I am pleased for you and Darren as long as you’re sure this is what you want.’

‘Yes. We are.’

‘Have you told his parents?’

‘He’s doing it now.’

‘It will be nice for us to meet before long,’ I suggested.

‘Yes, once they’re over the shock. Darren wasn’t looking forward to telling them. His sister is a single parent and they hoped he would get married first and then have children.’

‘Will you get married?’ I asked tentatively.

‘It’s not something that’s top of our agenda. We’ll see how things work out between us first.’

‘Where will you live?’

‘We’ll find somewhere to rent, not far from here. I’ll take maternity leave from work, but I’ll have to return at least part-time.’

Clearly Lucy had thought this through.

‘I’m proud of you,’ I said. ‘And I am happy. New life in our family is just what we need.’

‘Do you think Nana will be pleased?’ Lucy asked, stroking my hand as I used to do to her when she was little. ‘Things were different when she was my age.’

‘I think she will be delighted, although it will come as a surprise.’

‘You tell her so she has time to recover before I see her,’ Lucy said with a smile.

‘We’ll also need to tell Adrian, Paula and Tilly,’ I said, thinking aloud.

‘Yes. I’ll do that. And my work will have to know.’

‘When is the baby due?’

‘The doctor said 26 July, but that could change once I’m seen at the hospital and have a scan.’

‘Will Darren go with you for the antenatal appointments?’ I asked. There was so much to consider.

‘Yes. I think so. If not, will you come with me?’

‘Of course, love.’

‘There is something else I need to talk to you about,’ she said seriously.

‘Yes, what? You’re not expecting twins, are you?’

She laughed, ‘No, not as far as I know. It’s about Bonnie. Do you think I should tell her?’ Bonnie was Lucy’s birth mother and she saw her once or twice a year at the most. I hadn’t seen her in years and she was rarely mentioned now.

‘What do you think? What is your heart telling you to do?’ I asked Lucy.

‘To tell her.’

‘Then do so.’

‘You don’t mind?’

‘No, of course not, love. Does Darren know about Bonnie?’

‘Yes. He assumed I was your daughter to begin with.’

‘You are, and always will be. I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

I slipped my arm around her and we sat quietly for some time, as close as any mother and daughter can be, enjoying the moment. Then our peace was shattered by Tilly’s bedroom door flying open and her running downstairs. ‘Cathy!’

‘In the living room!’ I called, wondering what on earth was the matter.

Lucy eased away from me as Tilly ran into the living room.

‘Hi, Lucy,’ she said quickly. Then, ‘Cathy, look at this message!’ She pushed her phone towards me so I could read the text. It was from Dave. Happy New Year. As you are not answering my calls I’ve stopped your clothing allowance.

‘Is that it?’ I asked, thinking I must have missed something.

‘He’s stopped my allowance!’ Tilly exclaimed indignantly.

‘I’m not surprised. Don’t worry. I’ll give you your clothing allowance.’

‘Can I have it now?’ she asked.

‘Yes, shortly.’

‘It’s all right, Mum,’ Lucy said. ‘You sort out Tilly’s allowance. I can remember how important clothes were at her age.’

I smiled at her and was reminded of the huge difference in maturity between a fourteen- and twenty-four-year-old.

‘Are Adrian and Paula in?’ Lucy asked.

‘Paula is, she was having a sleep. Adrian will be back later.’

‘I’ll see if she’s awake.’

Lucy went upstairs as I took my purse from my handbag. I heard Lucy knock on Paula’s door and ask if she was awake. She must have been for her bedroom door opened and Lucy went in. I gave Tilly her clothing allowance.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘Remember, that’s for the month,’ I reminded her. ‘Are you planning on going shopping today?’

‘No. But I’ll tell Dave to stuff his allowance.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea – best not to antagonize him.’

‘Why?’ Tilly asked with attitude. ‘He thinks he can control me just like he does Mum.’

‘I know, but let it go. It won’t do your mum any good if you wind him up. She has to live with him.’

Tilly looked at me thoughtfully. ‘You could be right. I won’t say anything.’

‘Wise choice. Does he still text you a lot?’ I asked.

‘A bit.’

‘Are you happy with that?’

She shrugged. ‘Not bothered. I don’t reply unless I want to.’

I supposed that, as Dave was her stepfather, it was reasonable he maintained some contact with her, as long as it wasn’t threatening or abusive.

‘Let me know if it becomes a problem and I’ll speak to Isa,’ I said.

‘OK,’ Tilly replied and returned upstairs.

It’s usual for a young person of Tilly’s age to be given their clothing allowance if they are responsible enough to spend it reasonably wisely. Tilly was used to having an allowance and buying her own clothes, so I thought she could manage it. The money I’d given her was in addition to her weekly pocket money. Children in care often receive more cash than the average child of their age, which can cause a problem with the carer’s own children, who may receive less and be on a tight budget.

Fifteen minutes later Paula came downstairs. ‘I’m going to be an aunt!’ she declared, delighted.

‘Yes, and I’m going to be a grandmother,’ I said.

‘Lucy and I think “Nana” sounds better.’ I wasn’t so sure. I was starting to feel much older since I’d learnt I was going to be a grandmother, lovely though it would be.

‘I can babysit,’ Paula said happily. ‘It’ll be fun. We can all help Lucy.’

‘Yes. We will,’ I agreed.

Presently Lucy appeared and said she’d told Tilly her good news but she hadn’t been interested and was too busy texting to say much. I think she was a bit hurt.

‘Tilly has only recently joined our family,’ I said. ‘We can’t really expect her to appreciate just how much this means to us. And of course she’s got her own family to think about.’

‘I know,’ Lucy said. ‘Have you told Nana yet?’

‘No, I will this evening.’

Adrian arrived home just before six o’clock. I was in the kitchen preparing dinner and he came to find me.

‘Did you and Kirsty have a good New Year?’ I asked him as he kissed my cheek.

‘Yes. It was great, thanks. And you?’

‘Marie came round with a bottle of wine.’

‘I’m pleased you had some company. I telephoned Nana this morning and wished her a Happy New Year. She was fine.’ Adrian is a thoughtful, sensitive, level-headed and sometimes conservative young man. Thankfully, his father leaving us when he was young didn’t appear to have harmed him, although my father, when he’d been alive, had stepped into that role and more than compensated as a good male role model.

Lucy must have heard Adrian arrive home, for she joined us in the kitchen. ‘Guess what, big brother,’ she said playfully. ‘You’re going to be an uncle. I’m expecting.’

‘What? A baby?’ Adrian said, taken by surprise. The look on his face was priceless!

‘Well, I assume it’s a baby,’ Lucy laughed. ‘Although I don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet.’

I could see Adrian was struggling with what he should say. ‘Right. I see. Goodness. Well, that’s a surprise. When?’ he asked.

‘July, but don’t worry, you won’t have to be there, and I’ll have moved out by then.’

‘Oh, OK. Will you? You don’t have to go, do you? I suppose you do. Well, congratulations,’ he finished, and kissed her cheek. ‘I am pleased for you if this is what you want.’

‘It is. I’m happy,’ Lucy said. ‘I knew before Christmas, but I told Mum not to say anything as Darren and I had a lot of talking to do.’

‘Christmas. You kept that quiet,’ he said to me. I nodded. ‘So I can tell Kirsty then?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Lucy said. ‘Now the decision is made the news is on general release.’

‘Decision?’ Adrian queried.

‘As to whether to have it or not,’ Lucy replied.

‘Which is why I couldn’t say anything until now,’ I explained.

‘Oh, I see.’ Adrian paused and looked at Lucy thoughtfully. ‘I think you made the right decision. You’ll be a good mum. I’m happy for you both.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, clearly touched. ‘And maybe one day I’ll be an aunty.’

It took Adrian a moment to realize what she meant. ‘Not just yet,’ he said with an embarrassed laugh. ‘I’m saving up first.’

That evening, when everyone else was occupied, I sat in the living room, telephoned my mother and gently broke the news to her. ‘It wasn’t planned, but we’re pleased,’ I explained. ‘We’ll do as much as we can to help Lucy.’

‘And the young man?’ Mum asked. ‘You say you’ve only met him twice. Can he be relied upon to support the child and look after Lucy?’

‘I hope so, but time will tell.’

‘Why aren’t they getting married?’

‘It’s different now, Mum. Lots of couples live together and have families without getting married.’

‘I know, but marriage gives you security.’

‘That wasn’t my experience,’ I reminded her. My ex had run off, leaving me with a young family, a large mortgage, little income and a divorce bill from my solicitor. The children and I had recovered and done all right since then, and I’d always made sure they hadn’t missed out, but in terms of marriage offering security, it hadn’t.

‘Let’s hope Lucy’s young man is committed, then,’ Mum said, and I agreed.

Now Lucy had made her decision I was looking at her slightly differently – as an expectant mother, although of course she was no different physically to the day before. I think Paula and Adrian were viewing her in a different light too. Their sister, my daughter, had suddenly blossomed into a woman. It was a strange feeling and one it would take time to adjust to, but that’s the cycle of life: our parents grow old and a new generation is born.

The following day, 2 January, Adrian and Lucy were both back at work after the New Year. Tilly said she was going clothes shopping with Abby and would be back in the afternoon. Around 3 p.m. she texted to say she was going to see her mother but would leave before Dave returned at 5 p.m. I was concerned that, against advice, she was going home again but pleased she’d followed my instructions and told me her plans had changed.

She arrived home just before six o’clock. ‘Everything all right?’ I asked her as I let her in and closed the front door against the dark, cold evening.

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she said.

‘Did you have any success shopping?’ I asked. She wasn’t carrying any bags.

‘I didn’t buy clothes,’ she admitted.

‘OK, never mind. I expect you’ll have more luck next time.’ I appreciated what it was like to go clothes shopping but not find anything suitable. Tilly would keep her clothing allowance for another time.

However, that evening, as I was working at the computer in the front room, Tilly came down from her room, phone in hand. ‘Mum’s upset and needs me,’ she said anxiously. ‘Could I have some money for a cab so I can go to her?’

I stopped typing and looked at her. ‘Why is she upset?’ I asked, concerned.

‘Dave’s been horrible to her.’

‘Is he there now?’

‘No, he’s gone out, but she needs me.’

‘Has she just phoned you?’ I asked, mindful that Dave had forbidden Heather to use the landline.

‘Yes, but she used the mobile I –’ Tilly said, and stopped, realizing her mistake.

‘The mobile phone you bought with your clothing allowance?’ I asked.

‘Yes, I’m sorry, but she can’t use the landline and I hated the thought of her being all alone. I bought her a pay-as-you-go phone today and showed her how to use it.’

I nodded. I’d fostered children before who’d felt so responsible for their parents that they’d secretly given them their allowances, sometimes after the parent had asked them for money, although that didn’t appear to be the case here.

‘I understand why you did that,’ I said. ‘But I don’t want you going to your mother’s now. Would it help if I spoke to her?’

‘It might,’ Tilly said. She was about to call Heather when her phone buzzed as a text came through. ‘No, you can’t phone her now,’ she said anxiously. ‘He’s come back. I’m so worried for her.’

So was I.

Chapter Six

The Meeting

There was no point in telling Tilly again that she wasn’t responsible for her mother. Of course she worried about her and wanted to help, but if Heather – an adult – didn’t want to make changes to her life there was little Tilly, Isa or anyone could do. There is support available for victims of domestic violence wanting to flee their abusive partners, but the victim has to make the decision to leave, with all the emotional and financial implications that accompanies it. Heather would have little confidence from years of abuse and didn’t have an income so relied heavily on Dave. I appreciated what a mammoth decision she faced. It’s said in fostering that you don’t just take on the child but the problems of the whole family. It was certainly true now.

That evening Tilly and I talked for over an hour about her mother’s options. I said I’d email Isa an update as I wouldn’t have a chance to speak to her before the meeting at 9 a.m. the next day. Once Tilly had gone to her room, I returned to my computer and sent an email to Isa. I also emailed an update to Edith, my supervising social worker, who I still hadn’t heard from. She would have been notified that Tilly was with me.

To my surprise Isa replied almost immediately, although it was out of office hours.

Hi Cathy. Thanks. I’ll talk to Heather again. Sorry, it was me who advised her to buy a pay-as-you-go phone for her own safety. I should have realized Heather would ask Tilly to get it. Don’t mention the phone at the meeting. Dave mustn’t know about it.

I replied, confirming I wouldn’t mention it.

‘I hope Dave hasn’t found Mum’s phone,’ Tilly said the following morning as I drove us to the meeting at the council offices. ‘She hasn’t been in touch since yesterday.’

‘She won’t dare use the phone while he’s there,’ I replied, concentrating on the traffic. The roads were busy at this time in the morning.

‘I got rid of all the packaging,’ Tilly said. ‘She’s just got the phone and charger. I set it on silent and put it at the back of her wardrobe.’

‘That should be fine.’ Although it was appalling that such steps needed to be taken, and indicative of the fearful situation her mother lived in. ‘Isa is going to have another chat with your mother,’ I said.

‘And say what? She’s not going to leave him.’ Which was probably true, for now at least.

Tilly fell silent as I parked outside the council offices. I felt apprehensive too. It would be the first time I met Heather and Dave, although I’d formed impressions of them both from what I knew so far. The parents of a child in care are often angry to begin with that their child is in care. They can take out their anger on the foster carer, who they see as being part of the system and who has usurped their role as parents. I knew Dave could be violent and controlling, and I thought there was a good chance he would vent some of his anger at me and Isa. If a parent has a history of threatening social workers, the security guard – usually positioned in reception at the council offices – stands outside the meeting room for the duration of the meeting. As far as I knew that wasn’t true of Dave.

With some trepidation, Tilly and I registered at reception, hung our ID passes around our necks and went upstairs to the meeting room. It was just before nine o’clock. I knocked on the door and opened it. Isa and another, older woman, who Isa introduced as her manager, Nikki Bets, were already there. ‘Nice to meet you,’ Nikki said to us. ‘Come and sit down.’

We sat opposite them. Apart from the table and chairs, there was no other furniture in the room. It was used purely for meetings.

‘How are you settling in with Cathy and her family?’ Nikki asked Tilly.

‘All right, thank you,’ she replied. ‘Are both Mum and Dave coming?’

‘I think so,’ Nikki said. ‘We’re aware of your concerns and Isa is doing all she can to help your mother.’

‘She won’t help herself,’ Tilly said passionately. ‘Dave controls her.’

‘Can you give me your mother’s mobile number,’ Isa said, opening her notepad. ‘In future I’ll phone her on that, so my call won’t show up on the statement for their landline.’

Tilly told her the number.

‘Thank you. Try not to worry. Have you got everything you need for school tomorrow?’

‘Yes,’ Tilly said, then started as the door suddenly opened.

I looked over as a man I assumed to be Dave came into the room first, followed by a woman – Heather. He was tall, heavily built, with fair hair thinning at the front. Heather was short and gaunt, and her dark hair was streaked with grey. They were both dressed smartly, although Heather’s shapeless woollen dress suggested comfort rather than attractiveness. Dave, by comparison, was dressed to impress and wearing a smart light-grey tailored suit, presumably because he was going to work after the meeting. I knew from the placement information forms that he held a middle-management position with a local company. He had the presence of someone used to being in charge. He said a confident hello to everyone and then shook my hand. I caught a strong whiff of the deodorant Tilly had told me he used. He went to kiss Tilly, but she moved away. Unfazed, he went to the other side of the table and shook hands with Isa and Nikki, while Heather slid unobtrusively into the chair on my left at the end of the table. I noticed she had a small cut and a bruise just below her right eye. Nikki noticed it too.

‘That looks painful,’ she said to her as Dave sat beside his wife.

‘It’s nothing,’ Heather said quietly. ‘I tripped and fell.’

‘Too much gin,’ Dave joked, but he was the only one who laughed.

I saw Tilly looking at her mother, concerned. ‘Would you like to swap seats with me so you can sit next to your mother?’ I offered.

‘Yes, please.’ We changed seats and Tilly reached for her mother’s hand and held it protectively. Isa and I exchanged a glance.

‘Thank you, everyone, for coming,’ Nikki said, starting the meeting. ‘Let’s begin by introducing ourselves.’ Introductions are usual at most social services meetings even if there are just a few present and they know each other. ‘I’m Nikki Bets, Isa’s manager. I’ll take some notes of our meeting but I’m not planning on circulating formal minutes.’

‘Why not?’ Dave asked.

‘I don’t think it’s necessary,’ Nikki replied. ‘This is a short, informal meeting to give us the chance to get to know each other and decide on contact arrangements that will suit everyone.’

‘You won’t mind if I take notes, then,’ Dave said, and set his phone on the table in front of him.

‘Not at all,’ Nikki replied, unfazed. ‘Shall we continue with the introductions.’

I was next. ‘Cathy Glass, Tilly’s foster carer,’ I said, as Dave made a note on his phone.

‘I’m Tilly Watkins,’ she said. Then to Dave, ‘You’re not going to note that too, are you?’ He ignored her.

Heather was next. ‘I’m Heather Mitchel, Tilly’s mother,’ she said in a quiet, self-effacing manner as if she had no right to that title or to be here.

‘Thank you,’ Nikki said with an encouraging smile, and looked at Dave.

He took a moment before he said in a confident voice, ‘Dave Mitchel, Tilly’s stepfather.’

‘Not any more,’ Tilly said under her breath but loud enough for him to hear.

He didn’t respond, but I could see from the tightness in his jaw he was struggling to maintain his composure.

Isa introduced herself and then said, ‘Mr and Mrs Mitchel, is there anything you would like to ask Cathy or tell her about Tilly’s care that might be of help.’

Silence, then Heather said quietly, ‘I don’t understand why my daughter can’t come home.’

‘Because we have safe-guarding concerns, regarding her emotional and physical wellbeing,’ Nikki said. ‘I believe Isa has explained this to you.’

‘I’m assuming these so-called concerns are a result of the silly argument between my wife and myself,’ Dave said haughtily, pausing from typing on his phone. ‘I’ll admit it got out of hand, but no harm was done.’ I was amazed he could think that.

‘Tilly was hurt,’ Nikki said bluntly. ‘She had a graze on her cheek from something that you threw at your wife. And the emotional damage of living in a violent household cannot be overstated.’ Nikki wasn’t mincing her words. I guessed as a senior social worker she would have seen too many cases of the damage done to children living with domestic violence, as indeed I had as a foster carer.

‘All couples argue sometimes,’ Dave said dismissively. ‘I seem to be the villain in this, but I’ve always provided well for Tilly. She’s never wanted for anything – clothes, the latest phone. I probably indulged her too much and spoilt her. Now, for reasons I don’t understand, she has turned against me and her mother.’

‘Just you,’ Tilly said angrily.

Dave shrugged. ‘Well, if she wants to stay in foster care that’s fine with me, but I object most strongly to her carer allowing her to stay out all night on New Year’s Eve. She’s fourteen, a minor. An all-night party isn’t appropriate at her age. I shall be lodging a formal complaint.’

Isa and Nikki looked at me for an explanation and Tilly was staring daggers at Dave.

‘Tilly wasn’t at a party,’ I said. ‘She was at home with me. She invited a friend to see in the New Year and stay the night, but they didn’t go out. They were at my house.’

‘What made you think Tilly had been to a party?’ Nikki asked Dave.

‘There was a photo.’ He stopped. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he added, backtracking.

‘You’ve been stalking me online again,’ Tilly snapped at him. ‘Leave me and my friends alone.’ Then to the rest of us, she said, ‘I took some selfies of Abby and me on New Year’s Eve and put them on Facebook.’

Tilly had shown me the photographs she’d taken on her phone, of her and Abby glammed up and with raised glasses (of fruit cocktail). Dave had mistakenly believed they were at a party rather than at my home. But more worrying was that it seemed he had been actively looking for Tilly on social media again. She wasn’t Facebook friends with him and neither was Abby, but clearly someone had shared the photo with him.