Too Scared to Tell. Cathy Glass
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‘Let me take a look,’ the Head said decisively, and she crossed to the window that looked out over the playground. ‘Yes, I can see the car you mean.’
‘I’ve seen it there this week too,’ the school secretary said. Her office overlooked the playground and road.
‘It might be nothing, but as a foster carer I can’t be too careful,’ I said.
‘No, quite,’ the Head agreed. ‘As a school we have to be vigilant. I’ll go and talk to them and see what they want.’
I felt Oskar’s hand tighten in mine and I wondered if it was wise for the Head to approach the men alone, but she was already out of the door and crossing the playground. The secretary was watching her progress too as Elaine Summer went through the main gate, crossed the road, then went up to the car and tapped on the driver’s window. It lowered and as we watched we saw her talking to the men for some minutes. Then she turned and headed back, and the car pulled away. The school secretary returned to her work and the Head came in. She wasn’t at all flustered.
‘They’re saying they are family friends and know Oskar,’ she said. Then to him, ‘Do you know those men?’
He gave a small nod.
‘Do they live in the same house as you?’
Another small nod.
‘They were just making sure you were all right,’ she told him, then addressing me, ‘I’ve asked them not to wait outside the school, as it could be unsettling for Oskar. I’ve had to deal with similar situations with other children in care and those whose parents are divorcing. They wait outside, hoping to see their child or talk to them. That should be an end to it now, but if you do see them again, let me know.’ She threw Oskar a reassuring smile, but he still looked worried.
The klaxon sounded for the start of school and the Head told Oskar, ‘There’s no need for you to return to the playground, you can go straight up to your classroom.’
I said goodbye to him and that I would meet him in the playground at the end of school and wished him a good day. He went off to his classroom and I let myself out of the building. I was not wholly reassured by the Head’s words, no more than Oskar appeared to have been. If the two men were simply family friends wanting to make sure he was all right, why had he been so scared? It didn’t make sense.
Chapter Six
The rest of the day flew by with housework, my part-time clerical work and then preparing dinner for later, which I tried to do well in advance if there was a social worker visiting us after school. They often stayed for a number of hours, especially when a child was first placed, as there was always a lot to get through. I made a casserole, so it just needed popping in the oven half an hour before we wanted to eat. I messaged our Glass WhatsApp group to remind Adrian, Paula and Lucy that Oskar’s social worker was likely to still be here when they arrived home. Although they were used to finding strangers in our living room, I liked to forewarn them when possible, out of courtesy, really – it was their home, after all. Also, it minimized the chance of Lucy embarrassing herself with expletives if she returned home from a trying day at work. She loved working with the children at the nursery, but she didn’t always see eye to eye with the management and tended to let off steam when she first arrived home.
That afternoon as I drove to Oskar’s school, it crossed my mind that the men in the black car could be there again despite the Head Teacher speaking to them. But as I parked in my usual place a little way from the school and made my way towards the main gate there was no sign of them. Hopefully that was the end of it, although I was still puzzled and unsettled by their interest in Oskar.
The playground slowly filled with parents and carers waiting to meet their children from school. Miss Jordan had told me that Oskar had one good friend in school, and once he was more settled with us I would ask him if he would like to invite his friend home on a play date and to stay for tea. But for now, he was still adjusting to his new life with us.
The klaxon sounded from inside, signalling the end of school, and the classes began to exit the building with their form teachers. I saw Oskar straight away, standing beside Miss Jordan, and they appeared to be looking for me in the sea of faces. I gave a little wave. Miss Jordan spotted me, said something to Oskar and they came over.
‘Hello,’ she said with a smile. ‘Elaine told me about the car and she asked me to check everything is OK.’ She looked past me to the road outside. Oskar was looking too.
‘It’s not here,’ I confirmed. ‘Thank you for your help and thanks to the Head too.’
‘You’re welcome. I’m sure it’s dealt with, but let us know straight away if you are worried at all. I’ve told Oskar that he is safe in school and he must tell me if he sees the car again.’
‘Thank you,’ I said again. She was so caring and pleasant, as was the Head.
We said goodbye and Oskar slipped his hand into mine as we left the playground. Despite my assurance that the car wasn’t there, I saw him looking up and down the road as we walked. ‘It’s not here,’ I told him. ‘I’ve checked.’
He didn’t reply, but again I wondered why he was so worried if they were really friends of the family watching out for him. I would mention it to his social worker.
‘Andrew is coming to see us after school today,’ I told him as I opened the rear car door for him to get in. Oskar accepted this as he accepted most things – resolutely and in silence. ‘He will want to spend some time talking to you to make sure you’re all right,’ I continued as I started the car and pulled away. ‘Then you will probably be able to go off and play while he talks to me.’ This was the usual format of these visits, although so far Oskar hadn’t really shown much interest in ‘playing’. He’d done a jigsaw while I’d been talking on the telephone, but that was all. ‘Do you watch television at home?’ I asked him as I drove.
‘Sometimes,’ he said.
‘If you tell me what your favourite programmes are, I can stream them so you can watch them on the television or my tablet.’ He didn’t reply, so I asked, ‘What do you usually do in the evenings and at weekends?’
He thought for a moment and then said, ‘Get in my sleeping bag.’
I glanced at him in the rear-view mirror. ‘You mean like a camping sleeping bag?’
Silence and then, ‘I think so.’
‘Do you sleep in the sleeping bag at night or just use it during the day?’ Perhaps it was a game he played?
Another pause and then he said, ‘Both. I sleep in it.’
‘So you don’t sleep under a duvet like you do at my house?’ I asked.
I saw him shake his head and start to look worried. However, before I let the matter drop, I had one last question.
‘Oskar, do you sleep in a bed at your house?’
‘No. On the floor with the others.’
‘What others?’
But he’d withdrawn into his shell again and I made a mental note to mention this to his social worker too.
Once home, I fixed Oskar a drink and a snack to see him through till dinner. He wanted a bread roll and a banana with a glass of water. While he sat at the table eating, I set some toys in the living room together with my fostering folder, which contained my log notes, so I was ready for when Andrew arrived. I joined Oskar at the table with a mug of tea. Andrew knew we would be home by four o’clock and it was 4.30 now, so I was expecting him any time.
Oskar had just finished his snack