Damaged, A Baby’s Cry and The Night the Angels Came 3-in-1 Collection. Cathy Glass
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Fiona replied. She smiled at Jodie. Jodie looked back at her, blankly. Did she even recognize her? I wondered.
‘I must say,’ Fiona continued, ‘it’s nice to see Jodie looking so well, and so clean. It looks like you’re doing an excellent job.’
‘Oh, thank you,’ I replied. ‘Yes, we’re plodding along, aren’t we, sweet?’
Jodie nodded her head, not really understanding.
‘How long has she been with you?’ asked Fiona.
‘A few months now. She had a number of carers before me, but it looks like she’s settled now.’
‘Oh good. I’m sure that’s just what she needs. Well, I’ll let you get on and enjoy your afternoon. Jodie, it was really lovely to see you, and nice to meet you, Cathy.’
She left, and I stood on the grass verge, watching Jodie play. The father of the young girls started walking towards me, and my anxiety level rose.
‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to bother you. I just wanted to apologize for my tone.’
‘Oh, right,’ I said, relieved. ‘Well, it doesn’t matter.’
‘I overheard you say you were a foster carer, but I’d just assumed she was your daughter.’
‘Not to worry. Sorry we were in the way.’
He smiled apologetically, and walked back to his girls.
As we walked home, I marvelled at the double standards. As a foster parent, you often have to deal with strangers who are quick to blame you for a child’s difficult behaviour. If they find out you’re fostering, however, they suddenly take a very different view. But why do they feel the need to criticize in the first place? Being a parent of any kind is difficult enough, without having to deal with strangers’ condemnation.
A few days later, I received a call from the headmaster of Elmacre: he said he was very sorry, but they couldn’t offer Jodie a place. My spirits sank, but he then explained that he had a colleague at a different school who might be able to offer a place. The colleague was Adam West, of Abbey Green School, and he had now been given my details and would shortly be in touch. I thanked him effusively, and with a grin on my face relayed the good news to Jodie.
‘Not going,’ she replied. ‘Hate school. Hate you. Hate everything.’ She stuck out her tongue, and stamped down the hall.
Chapter Fifteen Past and Present
Iwas woken at around 2 a.m. by screams from Jodie’s room. I pulled on my dressing gown, and staggered along the corridor, feeling like I’d only just gone to sleep. I gave the door the usual quick knock, and went straight in. Jodie was lying in bed, holding the duvet over her head, clutching it tightly with her fingers. I sat on the edge of the bed, and Jodie stopped screaming. ‘What’s the matter, love?’ I asked.
‘It’s the eyes!’ she moaned, terrified.
‘What eyes, sweet? Come out from under there so I can give you a hug.’
‘No! They’re everywhere. The eyes in the walls, staring at me.’
I put my hand on the duvet where her feet were, to try and comfort her. ‘Jodie, love, I know you’re scared, but it’s your imagination. There are no eyes here. No one’s watching you. Please give me a hug.’
‘They’re here!’ she shouted back. ‘I can see them, coming at me! I’m not stupid. Make them stop, Cathy!’
‘Jodie, shush,’ I said firmly. ‘Now come out from under there, and I’ll show you. There’s nothing there, I promise. I’m here with you, and I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, would I? I’m here to protect you, that’s my job, isn’t that right?’
She fell silent for a second, and then loosened her grip on the duvet. I eased it down, and she clambered up and hugged me.
‘Now look, Jodie. You see, there’s nothing there.’ I walked over to the wall, and rubbed my hand across it. ‘See? There’s no one here.’ I sat back down on the bed. Jodie’s cheeks were red, and her forehead was hot and sweaty. She was genuinely scared; whatever these visions were, they were very real to her. What had started as straightforward nightmares had gradually developed into something closer to hallucinations. Increasingly now, when I went in to her room to comfort her, I would find her in a strange state that seemed somewhere between sleeping and waking; sometimes it would seem as if she were awake but still trapped inside her nightmare. I couldn’t tell if she was truly aware of what was happening but it seemed that whatever she was seeing was taking on a greater reality.
‘Will you read me a story?’ she asked.
‘Yes, OK, but then you have to go to sleep, all right?’
‘All right.’
I read her the story, and put her to bed, but at four o’clock she was screaming again. I went back and resettled her, but an hour later she started up again. There was no chance of getting her back to sleep now, which meant there was no chance of me sleeping, so I went downstairs for a cup of coffee and a much-needed cigarette. I stood on the patio in my dressing gown and slippers. It was still dark and I knew the sun wouldn’t be up for another half hour. I smiled to myself, as I wondered how many other mums knew exactly what time the sun came up.
It was a cold autumnal day. Summer had now passed us by and Jodie had been living with us for over six months. It was hard to remember a time before Jodie now, or a life that was lived without this intensity. Jodie and her problems occupied me constantly, and there was little in my life that wasn’t filled with looking after her and her needs. Now that the weather had turned cold, it was becoming quite a challenge to persuade Jodie to wear suitable clothes. Later that day, we left the house to go shopping, but as I went to close the door I realized I’d forgotten my own gloves. I left Jodie on the doorstep, while I popped inside to retrieve them. Suddenly the door slammed and Jodie was running up the hall towards me.
‘Whatever’s the matter?’
‘My dad. He’s outside!’
‘What? Where is he?’ I felt a rush of fear. It was far from unlikely that Jodie’s parents had been able to track me down, if the usual mistakes and errors had been made. I had a particular dread of seeing Jodie’s father; I wasn’t scared for myself – I didn’t feel that I was in great danger from him – but I was terrified that Jodie’s safe place in my home could be contaminated and threatened if she ever laid eyes on her father while she was here. And what was more, I never wanted to set eyes on him myself. The very thought of him made me feel physically sick. ‘Where did you see him, Jodie?’
‘In his van. Driving up the street.’
‘Go in the living room and stay put.’ I walked outside, drawing the door to behind me. I looked out from the doorstep but couldn’t see a van. I walked up the path and on to the pavement, peering up and down the street. I knew from what Jodie had said before that her father drove a white van, but I couldn’t see any vans at all. I looked up and down but there were definitely no white vans. I looked once more and then, seeing nothing, I went back inside, relieved.
‘It’s OK, Jodie, there’s no van. He’s not there. He doesn’t know where we live, so I’m sure it wasn’t him. It must be someone else’s van.’ I gave her a hug. ‘Shall we go to the shops now, or do you want to wait a bit?’
‘I’ll come,’ she said passively.
I reassured her again and, holding her close, led the way to the car. As we drove into town I watched her in the rear-view mirror, as she anxiously kept watch in every direction, presumably looking for vans.
I parked in the multi-storey and bought a ticket for two hours. As we entered the shopping mall, we were immediately transported into a fairyland of illuminated trees, sparkling foil