Too Scared to Tell. Cathy Glass
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Chapter One
‘I feel dreadful,’ the young teacher wept. ‘His uncle is angry with me, Oskar is sobbing, and now he has to live with a strange family.’
‘It might not be for long,’ I said. ‘Just until his mother gets back. And we’re not that strange,’ I added, trying to lighten her mood.
‘No, I didn’t mean that,’ she said, forcing a small smile through her tears. ‘I’m sure you’re very nice, but it’s not Oskar’s home, is it?’
‘I’ll do my best to make it home while he is with me,’ I said, touching her arm reassuringly. Erica Jordan, Oskar’s teacher, was blaming herself for Oskar coming into foster care. ‘It wasn’t your decision to bring Oskar into care,’ I pointed out.
‘No, but I logged everything he told me and reported it to my Headmistress.’
‘Which was right,’ I said. ‘That was the correct procedure. If you hadn’t reported your concerns and something dreadful had happened to Oskar, how would you have felt then?’
‘I’d never have forgiven myself. I’m sorry,’ she said, wiping her eyes. ‘I’m only in my second year of teaching and I’ve never dealt with anything like this before.’
‘I understand, and believe me, it doesn’t matter how experienced you are, it’s still upsetting. No one wants to see a child removed from their home, but sometimes it’s necessary to keep them safe.’
‘I don’t think Oskar has much of a home from what he’s told me,’ she admitted.
‘No, but the social services will thoroughly investigate. I’ve been a foster carer for a long time, and a child who regularly arrives at school unkempt and so hungry that he has to steal food – as Oskar has – suggests they are not being looked after at home. It doesn’t mean he’ll remain in care for good, just until the social services are satisfied that if he goes home he’ll be properly cared for.’
Being hungry and unkempt weren’t the only reasons Oskar, aged six, was being brought into care. He was pale, withdrawn and so tired he kept falling asleep in class, and sometimes he arrived at school with unexplained bruises on his arms and legs. He had first come to the school in January, so four months previously, and the concerns had been there right from the start, which Miss Jordan had been correctly reporting to the Headmistress. Although Oskar’s mother had first registered him at the school, a series of ‘uncles’ had been bringing and collecting him, sometimes arriving very late. Originally from Eastern Europe, Oskar and his mother had good English, but the uncles claimed to have none.
Miss Jordan had also told me that the school had set up a number of meetings with his family to try to discuss their concerns, but no one had ever turned up. Now, on the second day back at school after the Easter holidays, Oskar had arrived very late, hungry, in tears and with an angry red mark on his face. The man who had dropped him off at the entrance to the school had gone straight away, when those arriving late were expected to bring the child into the school and sign them in. Now even more concerned for the boy’s welfare, the Headmistress had asked Miss Jordan, who had established a relationship with Oskar, to talk to him privately,