Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Letter

The letter from Alice’s social worker also said that contact with Alice’s grandparents remained unchanged – an hour every two weeks, and telephone contact each Saturday. Kitty didn’t give a reason for the suspension of contact with Alice’s father but asked me if I would tell Alice, and said that she would phone me on Monday – presumably to explain.

It was a little after 3.00 p.m. and we’d just arrived home. I was standing in the kitchen opening the mail as I waited for the kettle to boil so I could make a cup of tea. The children were upstairs, familiarizing themselves with their bedrooms after our week away; we’d had a lovely holiday but everyone was pleased to be home again. I wondered if Alice’s grandparents were aware that contact with Chris had been suspended and, if so, if they knew the reason. I couldn’t think of any reason myself. Alice’s allegations against her father hadn’t yet been proved and even if they had that wouldn’t have been grounds enough to stop contact. Contact is set by the judge at one of the first hearings in childcare proceedings and I knew from previous experience that the arrangements were only altered before the final court hearing in very exceptional circumstances. We were due to phone Alice’s grandparents at 6.00 p.m. and I was sure Mrs Jones would say something if she knew; failing that I would have to wait until Monday to find out what was going on when Kitty phoned.

After I’d finished opening the mail, which was largely bills and circulars, and I’d had a cup of tea, Adrian, Lucy and Paula helped me unload the suitcases from the car and heave them upstairs. I took Alice’s case into her room and began taking out the essentials of Brian the Bear, wash bag, etc.; the rest of the unpacking could wait until later or even tomorrow. Alice was busy peering into her toy boxes, happy to be reunited with her possessions, while I considered what to say to her about not seeing her father.

Children can become very upset if contact is cancelled – even if it is just one session that is missed. The routine of contact and the expectation of seeing a parent (or whoever the main care giver was before the child came into care) quickly becomes part of a looked-after child’s life, and generally children still love their parents and want to see them, even though their parents may have fallen short in their parenting. Only in the worst cases of (sexual) abuse do children not want to see their parents. If contact is cancelled, I usually have to let the child down gently and explain that mummy (or whoever they were due to see) unfortunately can’t make it, but they send their love and will see them next time. However, given Alice’s lack of a relationship with her father and ambivalence towards Sharon, I didn’t think Alice was going to be too disappointed.

I propped Brian the Bear in his usual place at the bed head, and then said matter-of-factly: ‘Alice, I’ve just opened a letter from Kitty, your social worker. She says you won’t be seeing your dad or Sharon for the time being, but you will still be seeing your nana and grandpa.’

As quick as a flash and making a reasonable, albeit wrong, deduction, Alice said brightly: ‘Does that mean I can go and live with Nana and Grandpa again?’

‘No, love, I’m afraid not. You will still see them at contact, but you will continue to live with me for now.’

Alice’s face fell as she paused from rummaging in her toy box and looked at me, most concerned. ‘Cathy, if I’m not going to live with my dad and Sharon where am I going to live?’

Chris and Sharon weren’t supposed to have told Alice that she was going to live with them – a young child isn’t told the care plan until the judge has approved it at the final court hearing and it’s definite. But in the early days when Sharon had been unable to contain her enthusiasm she’d often said to Alice ‘When you come to live with us/when you’re my daughter’ etc.

I had to answer Alice’s question, but I was acutely aware that what I could say would sound dreadfully unsettling. ‘Alice, love, we don’t know where you will be living for certain yet, but for now you are staying with me. Once everything is sorted out and the judge has made his decision, Kitty will tell us who you will live with permanently. In the meantime I’m very pleased you are living with us, and so are Adrian, Lucy and Paula.’ I smiled and hoped the positive outweighed the negative.

Alice appeared to accept this and returned to the toy box. I noticed she hadn’t asked why contact with her father had been stopped, which is what most children would have done. I realized the reason she hadn’t asked when she said: ‘It’s because my dad was horrible to my mummy. I’m glad I told you. I won’t have to see my dad any more, and I won’t have to live with him and Sharon.’

My heart sank as I realized the finality with which Alice was viewing any possibility of her going to live with her father. Her assumption that it wouldn’t happen now simply wasn’t so. ‘We don’t know that yet, love,’ I said again. ‘The judge hasn’t decided what is best for you, but I know Kitty will tell us soon as she has any news.’

‘Fine,’ Alice said, ‘but I’m not going to live with him.’

Any question of Mr and Mrs Jones not knowing that contact had been suspended came to an end when we phoned that evening. As usual I dialled their phone number and when Mrs Jones answered I said a brief hello and then put the phone on speaker so that Alice could talk to them. If Mrs Jones wanted to speak to me, which she often did, she did so after she and Mr Jones had spoken to Alice, when I’d taken the phone off speaker and Alice was out of the room.

‘Hello, Alice,’ Mrs Jones said brightly. ‘Have you had a wonderful holiday?’

‘Yes,’ Alice said. ‘And I’m not seeing my dad any more.’

I heard the silence on the other end of the line and had no way of knowing if this had come as news to Mrs Jones. ‘I’ve received a letter from the social worker,’ I said. ‘Perhaps we can speak later, if you wish?’

‘Yes, thank you, Cathy,’ Mrs Jones said. Then, addressing Alice, she tried to steer the conversation back to the holiday: ‘Tell me all about your holiday, Alice. Thank you for the postcard. The beach looked lovely. Did you go in the sea?’

‘I’m not seeing my dad ever again,’ Alice said. ‘I don’t have to see him now, and I’m not going to live with him and Sharon.’

‘Alice,’ I said, aware Mrs Jones could hear me over the speaker phone, ‘I’ve already explained that we don’t know where you will be living yet. Please talk to Nana and tell her about your holiday. She’s waiting to hear all about it.’

But any thoughts of our holiday had been steam-rollered for Alice by the most recent news of contact. ‘Cathy had a letter and I’m not seeing my dad,’ Alice continued, unfazed. ‘Cathy says I can’t live with you, and I know I can’t live with my mummy, so where am I going to live, Nana? I don’t think anyone wants me any more.’

And while this might have been a little play for sympathy on Alice’s part – though she’d been fine before the phone call – nonetheless my heart went out to her, and also to Mrs Jones, who had just heard her beloved granddaughter say she thought no one wanted her. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Jones,’ I said. ‘That’s not what I said to Alice. I’ve tried to explain the situation, and reassure her as best I can. I’ll have another chat with her later. She knows how much you love her, and I’ve explained it’s not your decision where she lives.’

‘Thank you,’ Mrs Jones said gratefully. ‘It must be very difficult for Alice to understand. I don’t know what to say to reassure her. I thought she’d be happy, having just come back from holiday.’

‘She is, really, and she had a very good time. We all did. If Alice isn’t going to tell you about her holiday then I think I should.’

This was the prompt Alice needed to get her off the subject of contact and recover her previous enthusiasm for our holiday. She began telling her nana all about the sea, sand and ice creams, and included a detailed description of the ‘surprise’ present she’d brought back for them. Twenty minutes later, sounding a lot happier, Mrs Jones began winding up. At the end of each phone call they sent their kisses of love down the phone. It was their little ritual and despite having been party to it for the best part of five months, it never failed to move me.

‘Be ready to catch my kiss, then,’ Mrs Jones said to Alice.

Alice moved to the edge of the sofa and cupped her little hands in front of her, towards the phone. ‘I’m ready,’ she called. We then heard Nana’s kiss and Alice waited expectantly as it flew down the phone, finally landing in Alice’s outstretched hands. ‘I’ve caught it, Nana,’ she cried, closing her hands around the kiss; then, carefully drawing it to her face, she released it on to her cheek. ‘I’ve got your kiss, Nana. I’ll send mine now.’ Alice leaned closer to the phone and, taking a deep breath, blew her kiss down the line.

‘I’ve caught it,’ Mrs Jones said. ‘Thank you for the kiss, Alice. See you on Wednesday. I’ll put Grandpa on. Night, love.’

A moment later Mr Jones came on the phone: ‘How’s my girl, then?’ he said. ‘Did you take Brian the Bear on holiday with you?’

‘I’m not seeing my dad any more,’ Alice said. Oh, no, not again! I thought. But Mr Jones, probably having heard the conversation his wife had had with Alice, said firmly: ‘We’re not talking about that now, Alice. Cathy will explain later and answer your questions. For now I want you to tell me about your holiday. Did Brian go with you?’

‘Yes,’ said Alice. Then she chatted for a good quarter of an hour, happily reliving our week away, before Mr Jones said goodnight and that he would see her on Wednesday. They too exchanged kisses down the phone before saying a final goodnight.

I saw Alice out of the room and into Paula’s care; then I returned to the sitting room and closed the door. Sitting on the sofa I picked up the receiver, cutting off the loudspeaker. Mrs Jones was already waiting on the other end.

‘I’m sorry you had to hear all that from Alice,’ I said, still uncertain how much Mrs Jones knew of the suspension of contact. ‘There was a letter from Kitty waiting for me when I got home. It said contact with Chris and Sharon had been suspended, but didn’t give a reason. Kitty asked me to tell Alice, but I could only tell Alice what I knew. I think she’s read more into it.’

There was a short pause before Mrs Jones said: ‘Chris can’t go to contact because he is being held in police custody. He was arrested on Thursday for breaking into Leah’s flat and badly assaulting her.’