Saving Danny. Cathy Glass
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‘If you feel you are not coping then telephone Cathy and she’ll come and collect Danny, or you can return him early.’
Reva gave a small, unconvincing nod, and I thought that many of Reva’s problems in coping with Danny seemed to come from her lack of self-confidence in her ability to meet his needs.
‘I’m sure everything will be fine,’ Terri said. ‘Now, if there is nothing else, I need to be going. I’ll leave the two of you to make the arrangements to collect George.’ She glanced around the table, but no one had anything to add so she put away her notebook and pen. ‘I’ll need to visit you both,’ she said to Reva and me as she stood. ‘I’ll phone to arrange the appointments. Reva, can you ask Richard when he is available. I need him to be present when I see you.’
‘Yes,’ Reva said in a small voice. ‘He’s very busy, though.’
‘So am I,’ Terri said. I could understand why she sounded terse. Danny’s home life had deteriorated to the point where he’d had to come into care, so surely his father should be doing everything in his power to get him home again as soon as possible, including making time for the social worker.
‘Can I see Danny to say goodbye before I go?’ Reva now asked Terri.
‘Yes, that’s fine with me,’ Terri said, and looked at Sue.
‘Come down to the classroom when you’ve finished talking to Cathy,’ Sue said. ‘Yvonne will bring Danny out to you.’
‘Thank you,’ Reva said. ‘I won’t keep him long.’
Sue smiled, then she and Terri said goodbye to us and left the staff room.
I looked across the table at Reva. She seemed marginally more relaxed now there was just the two of us. ‘Do you want to bring George to my house or shall I collect him?’ I asked her.
‘Can you collect him, please?’ she said. ‘I didn’t like to say it in front of Terri but my car is a sports car and the hutch won’t fit in the boot.’
‘No worries,’ I said. ‘I’ll come to you. My car is a hatchback, so I’m sure George and his hutch will fit in the back.’
‘Thank you. Do you have my address?’
‘Not yet. Jill, my support social worker, is bringing the placement forms this evening.’
Reva reached into her shoulder bag and took out a business card, which she passed to me. I read the smart black embossed lettering. Below her name was printed ‘Corporate Hospitality’ and then her contact details.
‘I had some notion I would work freelance after I had Danny,’ she said with a small, dismissive laugh. ‘So I had the cards printed. But it’s been impossible. I still have most of the cards.’
‘Were you in the corporate hospitality business before?’ I asked, making conversation.
‘Yes, that’s where I met Richard. He was one of my clients. I was good at my job. Far better than I am at being a mother. I should have known when I was well off.’
‘You’re doing fine,’ I said encouragingly. ‘You’ve got very tired and weighed down by all of Danny’s needs. I’ve only had Danny for one night, but already I can see how much attention and patience he requires. Once you’ve had a break and time to recharge your batteries I’m sure you’ll feel better and see things differently.’
‘I hope so,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I’m in such a dark place right now. I’m no good to anyone – not Richard or Danny.’
‘Give yourself time,’ I said again.
‘I’ll try. Thank you, and thanks for having George. What time do you want to come to collect him tomorrow?’
‘Shall we say about eleven?’
‘That’s fine. I’m in most days. I’ve little reason to go out. I’ll give you some of Danny’s toys and more of his clothes. I wasn’t thinking straight yesterday. Have you got enough for now?’
‘Yes. Plenty.’
‘I’ll go and see Danny now then. It’ll be strange not having to come to school to collect him this afternoon.’
‘Try not to worry,’ I said. ‘I’ll take good care of him.’
‘I know you will, and you’ll do a better job of it than me.’
There was little more I could say right now to help Reva, for, as she’d admitted, she was in a ‘dark place’ and felt a failure as a mother, wife and, I suspected, as a person too. I assumed Terri would have advised Reva to see a doctor if she felt she needed help with depression. It wasn’t for me to suggest it to her. We stood and left the staff room. At the end of the corridor we said goodbye to each other, and Reva went to Danny’s classroom while I went towards reception and then out of the school.
Once home I made a cup of coffee and took it to the table, together with Reva’s notes. I began reading as I sipped my coffee. There was so much detail. Too much detail. I flicked through. Every minute of every day was accounted for, with lengthy, painstaking instructions on what to do and what not to do in every situation. Mealtimes included how to position Danny’s cutlery the way he liked it to avoid a tantrum, and the morning routine included what to say to Danny when I woke him, and then again at night when he went to bed. Reva had written how I should greet him at the end of the school day, and that I shouldn’t ask what he’d done at school as he didn’t like that and could become angry. I should say, ‘We’re going home in the car, Danny,’ but then I had to remain silent as we walked to the car, because he didn’t like to be talked to. I had to let him open the car door himself, and I wasn’t to help him climb in, or touch his seatbelt, as it annoyed him. Reva had also noted that it took Danny a long time to fasten his seatbelt due to his lack of coordination, and consequently she always made sure she parked her car with the passenger door on the pavement side so she didn’t have to stand in the road while she waited for him to fasten it. And so it continued, page after page …
While some of what Reva had written would be helpful – for example, Danny’s bath-time routine, the toys he enjoyed playing with and the television programme that most engaged him – much of it was too regimented to be of use in my household. My family was very different to Reva’s, and I couldn’t expect my children to change their lives to revolve around Danny’s routine. I also felt that so much regimentation was stifling. To have every minute of every hour accounted for meant there was no room for creativity or impulsive or impromptu actions. Yet I could see why Reva had run their lives like this. There’s a feeling of safety in the familiar and predictable. She was in a fragile state and had desperately clung to what she knew worked as a coping mechanism. The downside was that she and Danny were hostages to his behaviour – prisoners locked in their routine.
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