Please Don’t Take My Baby. Cathy Glass

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Please Don’t Take My Baby - Cathy  Glass


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and I’d had a chance to talk to Jackie. I said that Jade and her mother were now on better terms, and that after we’d left we’d been into town to go shopping and I’d also had a key cut for her.

      ‘So Jade’s out now?’ Rachel said.

      ‘Yes, she’s gone to see a friend.’

      ‘Did she say who?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘OK. I’ll phone later. What time is she due back?’ It’s usual for the child’s social worker to speak to the child within a day or so of the child being placed with a foster carer.

      ‘I’m assuming she’ll be home by dinnertime, which is six o’clock.’

      ‘All right, I’ll phone later or tomorrow.’

      We said goodbye and I replaced the phone, feeling I should have been able to give Rachel more positive answers as to where Jade was and what time she’d be back. I knew that the next time Jade went out I needed to make sure I knew exactly where she was going and what time she’d be back, although that would be difficult if she just slipped out as she had done today. There wasn’t the same problem with younger children, as you always knew where they were and what they were doing. I knew I was on a sharp learning curve when it came to fostering a teenager.

      When I collected Paula from school, the first thing she said was that she was looking forward to playing with Jade. I had to tell her that Jade wasn’t in right now but I was sure she would be back very soon.

      ‘Good,’ Paula said. ‘I want her to play with my dolls’ house with me.’

      I smiled and thought that Jade might even be home by the time Paula and I arrived, but she wasn’t. And when Adrian came home half an hour later there was still no sign of her. Although it wasn’t late it was soon dark and I began making dinner, while listening for the sound of Jade’s key in the front door. I should have asked her for her mobile number before she’d gone out so that I could have at least phoned her and confirmed a coming-home time and that she was safe.

      It was then I had a sudden flash of inspiration – a ‘light-bulb’ moment: I realized that Jade’s mobile number might have been included on the essential information forms. Leaving the preparation of dinner, I went into the sitting room and checked the forms in my fostering folder, but Jade’s mobile number wasn’t included, only those of her mother and the social worker. I wondered if Rachel had Jade’s mobile number; I would ask her when she phoned back later, but given she’d been trying to contact Jade on my landline I thought it wasn’t likely.

      But Rachel didn’t phone back that evening, and as we sat down to dinner, without Jade, I was starting to feel really worried and also a little angry: with myself for not asking Jade for a coming-home time or her mobile number, and with Jade for just going out without telling me. I hid my anxiety from Adrian and Paula and said simply that Jade was at a friend’s and would be home later.

      ‘But she’s missing dinner,’ Paula said, worried.

      ‘I’ll save her some,’ I said.

      Halfway through dinner the doorbell rang. Clearly it wasn’t Jade, as she had a key, so I thought it was probably a salesperson on another ill-timed visit. But as with any unexpected caller it crossed my mind it might be the police with bad news, so I left my dinner and answered the door.

      ‘Oh, Meryl,’ I said, surprised. ‘Hello.’

      ‘I hope it’s not inconvenient,’ she said. ‘I just wanted to say hi to Jade and see how she’s doing.’

      ‘She’s not here at present,’ I said. ‘Although she’s fine. She’s at a friend’s house.’ I didn’t ask Meryl in, as there didn’t seem any point. Jade wasn’t here and we were in the middle of dinner.

      ‘But she’s doing all right?’ Meryl asked.

      ‘Yes. We’ve been home and collected some of her belongings, and I met her mother. Perhaps you’d like to call round another evening?’

      ‘Yes, please. Some of the staff and Jade’s friends at school have been asking after her. I don’t want Jade to think we’ve forgotten her. I’ll call round later in the week, if that’s OK?’

      ‘Yes. Sure.’ Then I had another light-bulb moment. ‘I don’t suppose you have Jade’s mobile number? It should have been included in the paperwork but it wasn’t.’

      Meryl nodded. ‘Yes, I do,’ she said, taking her mobile from her coat pocket.

      ‘Great.’ I wrote the number she read out on the notepad I kept by the phone in the hall. ‘Thanks very much,’ I said, relieved. ‘I hope you don’t mind if I don’t ask you in tonight but we’re just having dinner.’

      Meryl smiled. ‘I’m sorry. I seem to be making a habit of that. Shall I call round a little later next time?’

      ‘Yes, please. After six thirty is usually good for us.’

      ‘See you soon, then,’ she said, and we said goodbye.

      As soon as I’d closed the front door I keyed Jade’s number into the phone. Disappointingly the call went straight through to her voicemail, so I left a message: ‘Hi Jade, it’s Cathy. I hope you’re having a nice time with your friend. Could you give me a ring and let me know what time you’ll be home? My number is –’ For it occurred to me that she might not know my number; she hadn’t asked for it and I hadn’t thought to tell her.

      I’d purposely kept my message short and light, as I didn’t want to sound the heavy parent/carer. But an hour later when Jade still hadn’t returned my call I was really worried and phoned her mobile again. It went straight through to her voicemail and this time my message was firmer: ‘Jade, it’s Cathy again. It’s seven o’clock and I need to know where you are, and what time you’ll be home. I thought you’d be back by now. Please phone straightaway. I’m worried.’

      I returned to the sitting room, where Adrian and Paula were, and hid my anxiety. But they too were becoming worried. ‘It’s very dark,’ Paula said. ‘Where is Jade?’ They both looked at me.

      ‘She’s a big girl,’ I reassured them. ‘She’ll be home soon.’

      When it was Paula’s bedtime I helped her with her bath and then saw her into bed, but as I read her bedtime story my heart wasn’t in it. It was now 7.30 and there’d been no word from Jade; I knew I needed to take further action. Although I would feel a complete fool and an incompetent foster carer reporting Jade missing when she had only been with me two days, I knew that’s what I had to do. As soon as I’d finished reading and had kissed Paula goodnight I went downstairs and to the phone in the sitting room. Adrian was at the kitchen table finishing some homework. I dialled Homefinders’ number and it was answered almost immediately by Michael, one of the agency’s social workers, who was on duty and taking emergency calls. I quickly explained the situation.

      ‘It’s not your fault,’ he said. ‘Try not to worry. I’m sure Jade’s OK. It’s typical teenager behaviour. This is what you do: phone Jade’s mobile one last time and if she doesn’t answer, which I don’t think she will, leave a message saying that if she doesn’t phone you within five minutes you’ll have to report her missing to the police. Say that you’re worried and she’s behaving irresponsibly, especially as she is pregnant and hoping for a positive parenting assessment. She should get the message.’

      It seemed harsh but I knew that Michael, like Jill, was a highly experienced social worker whose advice I should follow.

      ‘And if Jade does answer her phone I’ll tell her to come home straightaway?’ I confirmed.

      ‘Yes, but put a time limit on it. Teenagers work on a different time scale to adults. Tell her she has to be back in half an hour or else you will have no alternative but to call the police and start a missing person.’

      ‘Thanks for your help, Michael,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry to have troubled you.’


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