Chapter Fifteen
A Dreadful Mistake?

I took Alice into the breakfast room to continue playing with Paula and returned to the sitting room, where I closed the door so I couldn’t be overheard. When I picked up the receiver, the speaker phone automatically switched off. ‘Alice is with my daughter in another room,’ I assured Mrs Jones.

I’d intended that we’d spend some time talking about Alice, when I would reassure Mrs Jones as best I could and she would tell me of Alice’s routine and her likes and dislikes, so that I could make Alice’s time with me more comfortable; but Mrs Jones needed to unburden herself and all I could do was listen. She began immediately, with the day Leah had snatched Alice.

‘I told Leah it was the wrong thing to do,’ Mrs Jones said. ‘But she wouldn’t listen. She was so desperate that they’d take Alice away and give her to Chris, and she’d never see her again. I told her she should let Alice go into care and then get her solicitor to sort it out, but she wouldn’t listen.’

‘Yes,’ I agreed. Mrs Jones had given Leah sound advice.

Mrs Jones then went back over the six months Alice had been living with them, prior to coming into care. ‘We were doing all right,’ she said. ‘I know we’re a bit old to be parenting a young child, but we always made sure Alice was at nursery on time, clean and well fed. Our biggest mistake was to ask that social worker for some help. I had a hospital appointment and Martin – Alice’s grandpa – was going to take me. We asked the social worker if someone could take Alice to nursery that morning. They took it as a sign we couldn’t cope.’

‘Usually the social services are pleased to put in help to keep families together,’ I said.

‘I don’t know,’ Mrs Jones sighed. ‘Perhaps this was the excuse they were looking for to take Alice away. We didn’t get any help, just more visits from social workers, leading up to the court cases. You know, they took us back to court three times. I’ve not been well and I was physically sick with worry each night before we had to go. The first two times we went to court the judge wouldn’t grant them the court order to take Alice away. He said there was insufficient reason. But the third time he did. I don’t know what was different, other than that we’d asked for help with the hospital appointment, but by then we were too exhausted to put up a fight and Alice had to go into care.’ Mrs Jones stifled a sob.

‘You can’t blame yourself,’ I reassured. Certainly the first part of what Mrs Jones had said fitted in with what I knew: the social services had returned to court three times before the Interim Care Order had been granted, although the reasons for this I didn’t know.

‘We did our best for Alice,’ Mrs Jones continued. ‘But it wasn’t good enough. We’ve lost her and I think Leah is blaming us.’ She stopped again to catch her breath.

‘It’s very difficult for me to comment,’ I said. ‘I don’t know enough about the circumstances that brought Alice into care. But what I do know, and what I have said to the social worker, and will be saying again, is that Alice has been very well looked after. She is a delightful child and a great credit to you and your daughter. You should all be very proud of her. It’s a long time since I’ve looked after a child who’s been so well brought up.’

It was a moment before Mrs Jones could speak. ‘Thank you, love, so much,’ she said, her voice faltering. ‘That means a lot to me.’

‘Before Alice came to live with you,’ I asked, ‘did Leah look after her?’

‘Yes, although we’ve always played a big part in her life.’

‘I can tell. Alice has many fond memories of you and Grandpa, as well as her mother.’

‘Cathy, can I speak frankly to you? I’m not saying anything I haven’t told the social workers, but Alice’s father is a very wicked man. He was the one who got Leah into drugs; he deals in them, or used to. He treated Leah dreadfully; he beat her up more than once. He’s never been a father to Alice, and now they are going to send Alice to live with him and that Sharon woman. It’s shocking, and Leah is so desperate I’m frightened she will do something silly.’

I hesitated. I didn’t know what I should or could say, for while I knew Alice’s father hadn’t been involved in her life in the past, I didn’t know the truth of Mrs Jones’s claim of him beating Leah or starting her on drugs.

‘Has Leah been found now?’ I asked.

‘Yes. She handed herself into the police on Wednesday.’

‘Is she still in police custody?’

‘No. Thankfully they let her off with a caution, although she’s been told not to go to the nursery or try to contact Alice. The police were very fair. They said they recognized that snatching Alice was an act of desperation, so they wouldn’t prosecute her, but they told her to get medical help.’ I was relieved that good sense had prevailed. ‘I think it was me letting Leah see Alice that led to Alice being taken into care,’ Mrs Jones added tearfully.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand. When was this?’

‘When Alice came to us, six months ago, when Leah couldn’t cope, the social worker – not Martha, but a different one – said that because of Leah’s mental problems I mustn’t let Alice see her, or speak to her on the phone. They said they would set up supervised contact so that Alice could see her mum, but it didn’t happen – I don’t know why. But tell me, Cathy, you’re a mother: how could I stop my own daughter from seeing her child? Where is the milk of human kindness? I couldn’t do it, so I used to let Leah into the house so she could see Alice. There was never a problem; Leah always behaved herself – I made sure of it. The one time she arrived having been smoking something I sent her packing. But the social services found out I’d been letting her in to see Alice and they told the judge, and also that we’d all spent Christmas together. And I’m pleased we did. We had a lovely time and I think it will turn out to be our last Christmas together as a family.’ Mrs Jones stopped as her voice broke again.

What the truth of all this was I’d no idea, but given what I knew of Alice’s case, I could accept what Mrs Jones was saying. I also knew that if Leah was going to stand any chance of having her daughter returned to her, she needed to get medical help, speak to her solicitor, and stop screaming at the social workers as Martha had said she had been doing. I waited until Mrs Jones had stopped crying before giving her the best advice I could.

‘Leah must try to engage with the social workers,’ I said. ‘There is a new one taking up Alice’s case soon, so Leah can start afresh. Also she must make sure her solicitor is aware of all the background information. It is important. Does he know what you’ve just told me about Alice’s father’s violence and drug dealing? Was it ever reported to the police?’

‘I don’t think so. Leah was scared of Chris. He threatened her.’

‘Leah must tell her solicitor all this,’ I said again. ‘Also – and you can tell me to mind my own business – is Leah on any medication to help her?’

‘She was, but I don’t know if she still takes the tablets. She said they made her feel ill.’

‘I really think she needs to go back to her doctor and talk to him about her condition. If Leah’s been prescribed medication then she should be taking it. If she has problems with one tablet then her doctor may be able to prescribe something else. It’s important if she is going to try to make a case for having Alice returned to her, which I assume she will.’

‘Oh, yes. Alice is the most important person it the world to Leah. I know she’s lost her way, but she loves her daughter dearly.’

What I said to Mrs Jones was common sense really, but so often when we’re in a crisis we can miss the obvious. Mrs Jones thanked me and said she would speak to her daughter and tell her what I’d said. We said goodbye.

I replaced the receiver and sat for a moment thinking, before I went to run Alice’s bath. It wasn’t helpful for a ‘them and us’ situation to develop between the social services and the family of a child who was considered to be at risk. But this had clearly happened in Alice’s case, where Mrs Jones (and doubtless Mr Jones too) and Leah viewed the social services as the enemy, who were against them. I could appreciate why. If what Mrs Jones had said was true, then no help or support had been given to keep Alice with her maternal family and, worse, Alice was now being fast-tracked to a father who appeared to have a history of violence and drug dealing. Possibly Mrs Jones was misrepresenting the situation out of loyalty to her daughter; or had a dreadful mistake occurred? In all my years of fostering I had always been able to see the reasons why a child had been brought into care, and that there had been no alternative if the child was to be kept safe. Now, I had serious doubts.