The Silent Witness: Part 3 of 3. Casey Watson
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This book is a work of non-fiction based on the author’s experiences. In order to protect privacy, names, identifying characteristics, dialogue and details have been changed or reconstructed.
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First published by HarperElement 2017
FIRST EDITION
© Casey Watson 2017
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Source ISBN: 9780008142643
Ebook Edition © June 2017 ISBN: 9780008142698
Version: 2017-04-21
Contents
Topics for Reading Group Discussion
I felt tense over the next couple of days – as if I were living on borrowed time. And it wasn’t the first time I’d felt that way, which only made it worse. Nothing like being the master of your own potential downfall to concentrate the mind.
Nevertheless, even though I initially thought ‘What the hell have I just done?’, as anyone sensible would, I soon dismissed the notion. I had only done what I’d needed to do.
Both in my work as a foster carer and previously when I’d worked in schools, I had sailed a little too close to the wind on a couple of occasions, and it was always for the same (and, to my mind, rational) reason. Because I was convinced I was doing the right thing.
Not that sailing that close to the wind was an easy manoeuvre, as any salty seadog would tell you. There was always a trade-off – do the right thing and risk jeopardising your job, or take the safe route on the job front and accept that you might spend the rest of your life regretting it.
Which probably sounds a bit dramatic, but that’s always the dilemma, and it’s my blessing and curse that when I decide something I stick to it. And even if it does make me question whether it’s worth losing my job, on every similar occasion I’m afraid the answer is yes.
In any event, I only had myself to blame if the powers that be didn’t see the situation in the same way as I did, because, even as I tore it up, I knew that, whatever happened as a consequence – even if it turned out to be nothing – I would at some point have to admit to what I had done. I’m not a dishonest person and I would have to open up at some point and face the consequences, or I knew it would continue to eat away at me.
As it stood right now, however, I was barely conscious of it even nibbling. No, in pride of place on my post-letter-ripping-up mental to-do list was that I had given myself time; time in which I had to get Bella to talk. Or my rash, impulsive act would have been in vain.
In that sense, my push to get Bella back into school was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, going to school might prove a positive catalyst, in that, back among peers, Bella might better visualise her future, but, on the other hand, it meant less time spent with me.
On the whole, though, I was cheerful when the call came from ELAC first thing on the Thursday – not least because Bella being safely in school meant that, should something further happen with Adam Cummings’s spurious sister, chances were she wouldn’t even be around.
‘And it sounds as though there is plenty of scope for her to have some TA support,’ added the ELAC man, who was called Howard, and sounded very posh. ‘At least to take us to the Easter holidays, by which time she will have hopefully settled in. My colleague tells me she’s a bright girl?’
‘Definitely,’ I confirmed.
‘Excellent. That should make a world of difference. Hopefully her recent traumas won’t have set her back too far, but you know as well as I do how often children struggling