Chapter Twelve
A New Mummy

Embarrassment, confusion and something close to resentment flickered across little Alice’s face. Then she looked past Sharon to a man who was coming into reception from the direction of the waiting room. Alice didn’t run to him but remained where she was, beside me.

He came up to her and, without any display of emotion, said, ‘Alice. How are you?’

‘This is my husband, Chris,’ Sharon said. ‘Alice’s daddy.’

I smiled and shook his hand. Alice hadn’t said anything but remained by my side, silently watching her father and Sharon.

‘We really wanted Alice to come straight to us,’ Sharon said in a rush. ‘But the social services said she had to go into care first while our assessment was being completed.’

‘That’s usual,’ I confirmed.

‘Seems a waste of time to me,’ Sharon continued. ‘I mean we’re in our house now. Before, when we just had one bedroom, I could understand it. But Alice has got her own room. It’s all ready for her. So how’s she been since she came to you?’

It’s usual to give parents or relatives a brief update before or after contact, to reassure them the child is well and happy, but I didn’t want to do so in the main reception area where other parents could pass and overhear, and neither did I want to talk about Alice in front of her if it could be avoided.

‘Just a minute,’ I said to Sharon. ‘I’ll see if the contact supervisor is free to look after Alice for a moment.’

I put my head round the office door and, having exchanged hellos with the two staff who were in there, I asked who the contact supervisor would be for Alice.

‘Lyn,’ the receptionist-cum-secretary said. ‘She’ll be here soon. Is everything all right?’

‘Yes. I just need someone to look after Alice for a few minutes while I update her dad and Sharon.’

‘Bring her in here. I’ll look after her and keep her amused.’

‘Thanks. You’re a gem.’

I showed Alice into the office and said we wouldn’t be long. Then I went with Sharon and Chris to the waiting room, which was empty.

‘We were so worried,’ Sharon said as soon as we sat down. ‘We weren’t told a thing. All that time Alice was missing we didn’t know what was happening. She could have been dead for all we knew. No one kept us informed. I kept phoning the police and the duty social worker, but they said they didn’t know anything. It was only when I phoned the social services on Monday morning that I was told she’d been found on Sunday! I’ve told Chris we should put in a complaint.’

I glanced at Chris, who nodded but didn’t say anything. ‘I wasn’t kept informed either,’ I said. ‘So I can understand how worried you must have been.’

‘I didn’t sleep all weekend. It was awful,’ Sharon continued. ‘I’m so angry, I’m going to speak to my solicitor about suing them. We should have been told; we had a right to know.’ I noticed Sharon did all the talking while Alice’s father sat beside her, occasionally nodding in agreement but not adding anything. They were both the same height, about 5 feet 8 inches and fashionably dressed – Chris in designer sportswear. His spiky haircut was gelled in place, and I knew from the referral that he was twenty-five and Sharon was a few years older. Clearly Sharon was the more assertive of the two, and from what she was saying she appeared to have shouldered most of the responsibility (and possibly worry) during the time Alice had been missing.

‘That woman’s got a lot to answer for,’ Sharon said, referring to Alice’s mother. ‘She was always a bit odd but now she’s off her trolley.’

‘You know Leah?’ I asked, surprised.

‘Sort of. She used to live in the same road. The social worker, Martha, said when they find Leah she’ll be prosecuted and put inside. Do you know if she’s been caught yet? I hope she has for what she did to Alice.’

‘I don’t know,’ I said. I wasn’t going to be drawn into discussing or condemning Leah. While snatching Alice had been completely unacceptable and had caused everyone, including Alice, untold anxiety, part of me felt sorry for Leah. From what I had seen so far of Alice, Leah – with the support of her parents – had done a good job of parenting Alice, and I couldn’t help but view her act of snatching her daughter as that of a mother desperate to keep her child.

‘Now, I expect you will want to spend your time with Alice,’ I said. ‘So let me quickly tell you how she’s been. Alice came to me late on Sunday and although she was overwhelmed by everything that had happened, she settled remarkably well.’ They both nodded. I continued to tell them that Alice had been eating and sleeping well, that she had been to nursery, and that there would be a placement meeting before the end of the week when the social worker would be present to answer any queries they might have.

‘She’s not fit to be a mother,’ Sharon said as soon as I finished. ‘And those grandparents are no better. They’ve poisoned Alice against me and Chris. Alice hardly knows her father.’

I’d noticed in reception there was a coolness between Alice and her father, but whether this was a result of Alice being ‘poisoned’ against her father or whether it was simply distance – from him not being involved in Alice’s life – I’d no idea.

‘Thankfully, Alice is safe now,’ I smiled, ‘and I understand she will be seeing quite a lot of you both. Have you any questions about her care? Or is there anything you can tell me that will help me to look after Alice – for example, her likes and dislikes?’

They both thought for a moment; then Chris shook his head, and Sharon said: ‘Alice calls me Mummy now. I told her to. I can’t have children, so Alice can be my daughter, which is nearly as good.’

I looked at Sharon. Apart from ‘nearly as good’ settling uncomfortably with me, I thought how confusing it must be for Alice to be calling Sharon Mummy when she had a strong bond with her own mother. One of the reasons foster carers don’t encourage foster children to call them Mummy or Mum is to avoid such confusion, and divided loyalties. If the child is with the carer permanently and has little or no attachment to his or her own mother, then over a period of time the child might naturally start referring to the carer as Mum, which is very different from being told to do so.

‘How long have you known Alice?’ I asked Sharon.

‘Nearly five weeks,’ she said. ‘But I knew Chris had a child right from the beginning. He told me straightaway. We don’t have any secrets. It’s all happened so quickly. We met six months ago, got married three months ago, and now I’m in a new house and will soon have a daughter of my own! I think the reason Alice has loved me so quickly is because her own mother is crap. Ooops, sorry.’ She turned to Chris and grinned girlishly. ‘I shouldn’t swear now I’m a mother.’

I looked at Chris, who smiled indulgently, while I kept my own thoughts to myself. ‘Well, if there’s nothing else,’ I said, ‘I’ll just say goodbye to Alice and leave you to enjoy your time together.’ I turned and led the way from the waiting room and into reception, where Alice and Lyn, the contact supervisor, were just coming out of the office. I said goodbye to Alice and told her I would come back in two hours to collect her. She pursed her lips, wanting to kiss me goodbye as she had done at nursery that morning. I bent down so she could reach my cheek, but before Alice had the chance to kiss me Sharon intercepted.

‘Come and give your mummy a kiss instead,’ she said. Kneeling down, she turned Alice towards her.

I straightened as Alice reluctantly kissed her cheek. ‘Goodbye, love,’ I said, and came away.

In the car I sat for a moment staring through the windscreen, deep in thought. Dear Alice: she seemed so vulnerable and in need of protection that I could see why Sharon was all over her. Yet Sharon came across as dominating, a force to be reckoned with, and if I had felt overwhelmed by her, goodness knew what little Alice felt. I was sure Sharon had the best intentions, but from what I’d seen she was going about becoming Alice’s stepmother the wrong way. She needed to stand back and let Alice take the initiative on how fast she wanted their relationship to build. Sharon was trying too hard – being the classic over-zealous step-parent – and I knew Alice was resenting it.

The same certainly couldn’t be said of Alice’s father, Chris, who had hardly said a word to her. When a child comes into care and can’t be returned home, as in Alice’s case, another suitable relative willing to parent the child is usually considered the next best option. But from what I’d just seen, Alice’s father had no relationship with Alice, and didn’t seem to know how to make one, while Sharon, who had only known Alice five weeks, was the other extreme – obsessed with making Alice her daughter. And what no one seemed to be taking into account were Alice’s feelings and wishes. She loved her mother and grandparents, and if she wasn’t going to be able to live with them again, as Martha has said, then someone needed to explain exactly why to Alice; I didn’t know enough to do this. As soon as the new social worker took over I would ask him or her to clearly explain to Alice the reasons for their decision. Alice was old enough to understand and had a right to know.