Damaged, A Baby’s Cry and The Night the Angels Came 3-in-1 Collection. Cathy Glass
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to Nicola. I reminded myself that social workers often have to retain a bit of distance and put up walls between themselves and their cases, in order to protect themselves from getting too involved emotionally and becoming unable to do their job properly. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help feeling that Eileen just didn’t seem very bothered, or to empathize with Jodie at all.
‘Right,’ said Eileen with a sigh, as she noted down what I’d said. It almost seemed as though the most depressing aspect of all this for Eileen was the amount of extra work it would involve for her.
I took a deep breath and asked about Jodie’s relationship with the previous carer, Dave.
‘It’ll be on the file if there is anything,’ she said, using the same excuse as last time.
I felt like saying, ‘Well, read the bloody file then!’ but settled instead for a repeat of the more diplomatic, ‘I’d be grateful if you could give me any relevant background information. It’s even more important now.’
I put the phone down, frustrated. Really, this wasn’t something I should have had to tell her. Why hadn’t Jodie’s social worker familiarized herself with the case by now? She obviously still hadn’t read the file – neither had she been to visit Jodie yet. They barely knew each other and good social work practice said that she should be establishing a relationship with the child for whom she was legally responsible. Nor had she offered to come round now, to offer her support to Jodie and demonstrate her concern.
Thank goodness for Jill. She seemed to appreciate the gravity of the situation and phoned again to tell me that the strategy meeting had been convened for later the same morning. Because Jodie wasn’t in school, and it was too short notice to find a babysitter, Jill said she would go in my place, and let me know the outcome.
Sally, the guardian ad litum appointed by the court to represent Jodie’s interests, phoned next. I’d liked Sally right from the start: she showed exactly the right mix of professionalism and concern that reassured me that the right steps would be taken for Jodie. She called to hear from me in person the details of what had happened to Jodie – and she said how sorry she was, and how dreadful that the abuse had not been discovered before. She had to be objective, of course, but it was clear that Jodie’s case had touched her, and I appreciated her showing that. Once again, I repeated the details of Jodie’s disclosures. Sally thanked me for all I was doing, and gave me her home telephone number in case anything else should emerge.
Finally, the phone stopped ringing. I put the kettle on, and tried to settle Jodie with play dough, but she was having none of it. She was high on the frenzy of activity, rightly believing that it related to her. Luckily, Paula and Lucy arrived home from school, and they distracted her long enough to allow me to collect my thoughts.
A little while later, the phone rang again. It was Jill.
‘Hi, Cathy. I’m just calling to let you know the outcome of the strategy meeting. Contact with both of Jodie’s parents has been suspended with immediate effect, until further notice. Can you tell Jodie please?’
‘So she’s not seeing her mum either?’ I asked, surprised.
‘No. Until they know more, they’re playing safe.’
‘All right. I’ll explain to her. Goodness knows how she’ll take it.’
‘As we said earlier, it would be great if you could try and find out where the mother was while the abuse was taking place.’
‘I’ll try.’
‘Between you, me and the gatepost, this looks like one hell of a balls-up by Social Services. All hell’s broken loose while they try and find out how this could have happened.’
I hung up and looked at the clock; it was already 5.30, and I hadn’t even thought about dinner yet. I wearily went through to the conservatory, where Paula and Lucy were doing a good job helping Jodie model the dough. I decided to deal with the contact first, as I didn’t want her to feel in any way responsible for not seeing her parents.
‘I need to have a chat,’ I said to the girls. ‘I’ll explain later.’ They took my meaning and left. ‘Thanks for your help,’ I called after them.
‘I’ll explain later,’ Jodie repeated. I heard the girls laugh.
I squatted down beside her and began talking to her about being safe, keeping safe, and how safe she felt with me.
Obligingly she said, ‘I wasn’t safe with my daddy, was I, Cathy?’
‘No you weren’t, pet. And because of that, Eileen feels it would be better if you didn’t see either of your parents for a while, until it’s all sorted out.’
‘OK, Cathy,’ she said, not in the least perturbed. ‘I’ll tell her.’ Then she stood up, and started a conversation with herself, in which she told Jodie she wasn’t seeing Mummy or Daddy because she had to be safe.
That was too easy, I thought. It’s not normal. After all, she’d been with them for eight years. I’d dealt with many children who’d been neglected or even abused, and no matter what they’d been through, they always had some emotional connection with their parents. I’d never seen a reaction like this before. I moved on to the second matter of Mum’s presence during the abuse. Jodie sat down again, and picked up a lump of multicoloured dough.
‘Jodie, you know what you were telling me earlier? Can you remember where your mummy was while your daddy was in your bedroom?’
‘It’s a cat!’ she exclaimed, pulling the dough into an elongated pear shape.
‘Is it? That’s nice.’ I leaned closer. ‘Jodie, when your daddy was in your bedroom doing naughty things, where was your mummy?’
She shrugged and curled her tongue over her top lip in concentration.
‘Was she in the house, Jodie, or out? Did you tell her what he was doing?’
‘I told her,’ she said, thumping the dough with the palm of her hand. ‘I told her. I said I want a cat. Get me one now.’ Then she was off, in search of Toscha. I didn’t pursue it. I’d have to wait until she was ready.
Chapter Eleven Cooking and Cleaning
In the middle of the night I was woken by the most terrifying screams. I didn’t have time for my dressing gown and slippers. I hurried out of bed and rushed on to the landing, dizzy from standing too quickly. I flung open Jodie’s bedroom door. She was on the floor thrashing from side to side, screaming at the top of her voice, gripped in a paroxysm of fear.
‘Jodie!’ I shouted, trying to break through her nightmare. ‘Jodie, it’s Cathy!’ But her screams drowned out my cry.
I dropped to my knees and took hold of her hands. Her face was screwed shut, and she was clawing at her eyes, trying to gouge them out. I pinned one arm under my knee, and the other above her head. She was fighting for all she was worth, and her strength was incredible, as though the demons had risen up to do battle against her.
‘Jodie! Open your eyes. It’s Cathy. You’re safe with me.’
Her teeth gnashed and her feet drummed the floor. I held on, and kept talking. ‘Jodie! You’re safe in your room. It’s a nightmare. Nothing can harm you here.’
The screams peaked, then died, and her body went limp. I heard a gush of water, then a stain appeared on her pyjamas. Her eyes flickered open, and her head slowly turned. She looked up at me, fixed and staring, then turned her head and vomited. It was like the end of a seizure.
‘All right, Jodie. It’s OK. Everything’s going to be all right.’
She murmured, and her eyes started to focus. I relaxed my grip, and cradled her against me. The smell of vomit and urine made my stomach heave. ‘You’re safe, Jodie. Nothing can harm you here. I’ll take care of you. Don’t