Nobody’s Son: Part 3 of 3: All Alex ever wanted was a family of his own. Cathy Glass
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but from what Jill had said my input was likely to be minimal: to answer some questions about Alex from the present foster carer’s point of view. I hadn’t brought any notes with me and intended to play it by ear. As I drove and my apprehension increased, I reminded myself that Rosemary and Edward must be feeling significantly worse, having to face all of us again.
I parked the car in a side road close to the council offices and walked round to the front, where I met Jill on the way in.
‘Good timing,’ she quipped. ‘All ready?’
‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’
We crossed to the reception desk and signed the visitor’s book. Jill asked which room we were in and we hung our one-day security passes around our necks. The room was on the second floor, next door to the one I’d been in previously for the adoption planning meeting. As we arrived outside, Jill took a deep breath. ‘Well, here goes,’ she said before knocking, which did nothing to allay my nerves. She opened the door and I followed her in. A sea of faces greeted us.
I find you can gauge the atmosphere of a meeting as soon as you enter the room. In complete contrast to the adoption planning meeting, where Jill and I had been greeted by lively conversation and four smiling faces, now there was silence and sombre expressions. A dozen or more people around a large oblong wooden table sat upright and formal. Most had paperwork in front of them. I felt my anxiety level rise. I recognized Rosemary, Edward, Lin and Debbie, but no one else. The person in front of us moved along a seat so Jill and I could sit together.
‘Thank you,’ Jill said quietly as we sat down. I slipped off my coat, hung it over the back of my chair and tried to relax.
After a moment the chairperson asked, ‘Are we expecting anyone else?’
No one appeared to know.
‘If we could introduce ourselves, I’ll tick everyone off my list,’ she said. The chairperson would be an IRO not connected with the case. She was a mature woman, confident in her role, and with a calming, conciliatory manner designed to put everyone at ease. She squared a sheet of printed paper in front of her and looked to the person on her left to start the introductions.
‘Elaine C—, team manager, fostering and adoption,’ she said.
The chairperson ticked off her name on the sheet and then looked at the next person, who was Debbie. ‘Debbie G—, social worker for Alex.’
And so it continued: ‘Lin B—, adoption social worker for Alex.’
‘Lara M—, team manager.’
‘Shanice K—, social worker from the permanence team.’
As the introductions continued the door opened and to my surprise Miss Cork walked in. ‘Sorry if I’m late,’ she said, a little flustered. ‘I was only told about the meeting this morning.’ She took one of the two remaining chairs and I threw her a reassuring smile.
‘Adele W—, social worker, looked-after children’s team,’ the next person at the table said.
I glanced at Rosemary and Edward across the vast expanse of oak table, but there was nothing to be read in their expressions and they kept their gazes down. When it was their turn to introduce themselves they said only ‘Rosemary Andrews’ and ‘Edward Andrews’ without any reference to their role as Alex’s adoptive parents. Edward and a trainee social worker who was also taking minutes were the only males present.
Next was the nurse for looked-after children, then another social worker and me. ‘Cathy Glass, Alex’s foster carer,’ I said, addressing the chairperson.
‘You were his carer before the move as well?’ she asked.
‘Yes, just for a few weeks.’
She nodded.
There were fifteen of us in all, including three team managers, the size of the meeting reflecting the importance that was being attached to what had happened to Alex.
Introductions over, the chairperson noted an apology for absence and then looked at us as she spoke. She began by thanking us for coming – she knew how busy we all were – then made a special point of thanking Rosemary and Edward. She appreciated that coming to this meeting would have been difficult for them. Edward gave a perfunctory nod, but he and Rosemary remained expressionless.
‘The purpose of this meeting’, the chairperson continued, ‘is not to apportion blame, but to see if we can identify any significant factors that led to the disruption of the placement. This information will help the department assess if its preparation, matching and support of families is adequate and also plan for Alex’s future. We shall hear from all those who had a role in Alex’s case and participants will have a chance to share information and their feelings.’ She then asked Debbie, as Alex’s social worker, to speak first. Judging from the thickness of the papers she had in front of her, I guessed she was well prepared.
‘Alex is seven now,’ she began, then stated his date and place of birth, his ethnicity and that he was the subject of a Full Care Order. ‘I took over Alex’s case nine months ago after his previous social worker left.’
‘Do we know how many social workers Alex has had?’ the chairperson asked.
‘I’m not completely sure,’ Debbie said, ‘but more than five.’
The chairperson nodded and Debbie continued by giving some background information on Alex’s mother and the reason she and Alex had come to the attention of the social services. She then summarized Alex’s time in care, some of which I already knew from the placement information. However, hearing it said out loud highlighted just how unsettled Alex’s life had been, even since coming into care. His return to me was his seventh move since he first came into care. The original care plan had been for Alex to return to his mother, which I didn’t know. But despite her enrolling on a drug rehabilitation programme, she hadn’t made the necessary changes to her lifestyle to enable Alex to be returned to her. Face-to-face contact had been stopped in preparation for the adoption and it was intended that she would have ‘letterbox contact’ only, which meant that she could send Alex a card and letter on his birthday and at Christmas, but that was all. Debbie said that generally Alex had coped well during his time in care, although he had become unsettled since returning to me, after all the recent changes. I saw Edward look up as though he might be about to say something, but he didn’t comment.
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