‘Time to get into bed,’ Danny repeated. Then added, ‘Yes, thank you very much.’ I couldn’t help but smile, bless him.
In his bedroom Danny spent a long time checking everything was in its correct place and that his clothes were ready for morning, precisely folded on the foot of his bed as he liked them. Then he adjusted the dimmer switch and went to the slightly parted curtains and adjusted those too, but now he added a new element to his bedtime routine. Pressing his nose against the glass, he said softly, ‘Night, George. I love you so very much.’
A lump immediately rose to my throat. How much his mother would have liked to hear those words instead of being ignored when she left. How easily he’d said them to George. Danny clearly did have feelings; it was the expression of those feelings he struggled with. I doubted this was from any conscious refusal to show them but part of his condition – he didn’t know how to express himself. And it wasn’t chance that it was an animal he’d told, for an animal wouldn’t show or demand any emotion in return, as people – especially his mother – would, which Danny wouldn’t be able to handle.
He came away from the window, climbed into bed and, drawing soft-toy George in beside him, pulled the duvet over his head.
‘Goodnight, love,’ I said.
There was no reply.
‘Night, Danny. See you in the morning.’
I came out and closed his door behind me, the brief window into his emotions closed too.
‘Did you see his mother’s car?’ Adrian said, coming out of his bedroom and clearly impressed.
‘Reva’s car? No, I didn’t.’
‘It’s a BMW convertible! My dream car!’
I smiled. ‘You’d better start saving your pocket money then. You’ve got two years before you’re old enough to learn to drive.’
‘Very funny,’ he said. ‘They cost a packet. I’ll need a big raise in my allowance.’
‘Or a very good job,’ I said. ‘That’s how Reva afforded her car. Have you finished your homework yet?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good boy.’ I stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. At fifteen, Adrian was six inches taller than me, although of course he’d always be my little boy.
Downstairs the girls, having completed their homework, were in the living room watching a soap on television before going to bed. I went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea – just as Toscha shot in through the cat flap with an indignant look on her face. If she could have spoken I am sure she would have said, ‘What’s that hutch doing in my garden?’
‘That’s George,’ I said. ‘You’ll meet him properly tomorrow when Danny takes him out for a walk.’
She wasn’t impressed, so I gave her a cat-treat biscuit and stroked her to make up for having to share her territory. Danny hadn’t shown much interest in Toscha, and Toscha had largely ignored him. I think some of Danny’s loud noises and sudden movements frightened her, for she was usually quite a sociable cat.
Later that night, when all the children were in bed, I sat in the living room thinking about Reva, and Danny, and his father who seemed to be largely absent from his life. Lucy had never known her father, and while Adrian and Paula saw their father every month they weren’t as close to him as they had been when he’d lived with us, which was a pity. Deep in thought, I started as a noise came from the kitchen. It wasn’t the cat flap closing – Toscha was asleep by the radiator. I was sure I’d locked and bolted the back door; as a female and the only adult in the house I was conscientious about security. As I listened I heard the noise again. It was at moments like this I wished I had a big strong man in the house, but Adrian, as big as he was, was my son, and I still protected him.
Summoning my courage I went into the kitchen and looked around. All was quiet. Nothing appeared to have fallen or been moved, and the back door was shut and bolted and the windows closed. Everything was as I’d left it, so what had made that noise? I began towards the back door to look outside. As I did so, the noise sounded again, and with relief I recognized it – George was thumping the floor of his cage. If a rabbit senses danger its instinct is to thump its hind legs, and George’s legs were big and gave a powerful thump. I thought I’d better check he was all right. Very occasionally a fox came into the garden. I raised the blind on the rear window, so the light from the kitchen fell onto the hutch, and I went out. The night was cold but the air still, and there was no sound of a predator fleeing. Perhaps George was just reacting to his new surroundings. I raised the plastic sheet and looked in. George looked back. ‘Are you OK?’ I asked him.
His nose twitched.
He seemed fine, so I lowered the sheet and returned indoors. I hoped his thumping wouldn’t wake Danny or Adrian, whose bedrooms were at the rear of the house. If it did I’d have to consider moving the hutch, although I was reluctant to do that as it was in a similar position to where it had been at Danny’s house, and would mean another change for Danny to accommodate.
The following morning when I woke Danny for school I said, ‘Last night I heard George thumping. Did he wake you?’
Danny looked down as he struggled to find the right words to answer, and eventually replied, ‘George thumping goodnight.’
‘I see,’ I said, pleased by the clarity of his reply. ‘George was saying goodnight to you?’
Danny nodded.
‘Did he wake you?’
He shook his head and again searched for the right words. ‘Mummy hear George. Danny sleep. George thumps. It’s OK.’
I smiled. ‘Thank you for telling me. I won’t worry now.’
It was the best conversation I’d had with Danny, and it wasn’t a coincidence that it was about his beloved George.
At breakfast I asked Adrian if he’d been woken by George’s thumping and he said he hadn’t, so George’s hutch stayed where it was. Despite waking Danny ten minutes earlier to allow time for him to tend to George, he was so meticulous and precise that the process took longer than I’d anticipated, and we arrived in the school playground just as the whistle was blowing for the start of school. Yvonne was already waiting and I apologized, saying we’d have to start getting up earlier to incorporate George’s routine into ours.
‘So how is George?’ Yvonne asked Danny.
Danny didn’t reply.
‘He’s fine,’ I said. ‘Settling in.’ Then, trying to encourage Danny into the conversation, I said to him, ‘You’re going to give George a walk in the garden after school, aren’t you?’
Danny looked away.
The other children were lining up ready to go into school, so I said goodbye to him and reminded him that I’d meet him at the end of school. He remained silent.
‘Bye,’ Yvonne said.
‘Bye. Have a good day,’ I said to them both.
‘We will,’ Yvonne replied cheerfully.
Danny slipped his hand into Yvonne’s as they walked away. Again I could see how hurtful his gesture would have been to his mother when he’d been unable to even say goodbye to her, but Danny wouldn’t be aware of this.
That morning Terri telephoned for an update on Danny, and as I told her I concentrated on all the positives. She said she needed to visit us, so we made an appointment for Monday at 4.30 p.m. Terri also said she would be arranging Danny’s first review soon and was anticipating holding it at my house. Children in care have regular reviews, where their parents, social worker, foster carer, the foster carer’s support social worker, their teacher and any other adults closely connected with the child meet together to ensure that everything is being done to help the child. The care plan (drawn up by the social worker) is also updated. The reviews are chaired by an independent reviewing officer (IRO), who minutes the meeting. Very young children don’t usually attend their reviews, but older children can do. There was no reason why Danny’s review shouldn’t be held in my house, and Terri said she would send out the invitations once she had set a date and time. We said goodbye and hung up. Fifteen minutes later Jill telephoned to see how the we
ek had gone and I gave her a similar update to the one I’d given Terri, although I included my concerns about Reva’s drinking. As my support social worker she could offer advice on how to approach the matter.
‘You must tell Terri on Monday in case there is a problem,’ Jill said.
‘All right, I will.’
‘Any plans for the weekend?’ Jill then asked. She wasn’t just being polite; it was part of her job to know what I had planned for Danny.
‘Danny has contact all day Saturday,’ I said. ‘And I’ve invited my parents to dinner on Sunday. I thought we’d keep the weekend reasonably quiet to allow Danny the chance to settle in. I’ll take him out next Sunday when he’s feeling more at home.’
‘It’ll be nice for Danny to meet your parents.’
‘Yes, and they’re looking forward to meeting him.’
My parents had always been supportive of my fostering and treated the child or children we were looking after as another grandchild while they were with us.
That afternoon, as I busied myself with housework and then paperwork, I occasionally heard George thumping in his cage and I went out to check on him. He always seemed all right and came up to the wire mesh to greet me, but I was concerned he was spending too much time cooped up in his cage. When we’d had a rabbit we’d bought an enclosed run, which had sat on the lawn. On a fine day he’d been in it for most of the day, nibbling the grass and with room to exercise. I’d given the run and the hutch away when our rabbit had died, but now I was wondering if I should mention buying one to Reva. Or would she see it as a criticism? Half an hour later, when I heard George thump again, I decided to let him out for some exercise. I slipped on my coat, tucked a carrot into my pocket and went outside. As soon as I opened the hutch door he jumped out, pleased to be free, and with a few long bunny hops had crossed the patio and was on the grass. He raced up and down the lawn and then around the tree, really appreciating his freedom. At one point I glanced up and saw my neighbour, Sue, watching from her upstairs window. She smiled and waved, and I waved back. I heard the cat flap open and Toscha appeared, probably having seen George from the living-room window.
‘Come and meet George,’ I called to Toscha from the lawn.
She took a couple of steps towards us as George sat nibbling the grass, but as soon as he moved, Toscha’s back arched and her hackles rose. Turning, she fled back inside through the cat flap. I guessed it would take time for them to be friends.
When George finally collapsed exhausted on the grass with his legs spread out in front and behind him I assumed he’d had enough exercise, so I enticed him back into his hutch with the carrot. It was only a couple of hours before Danny would be home from school, and then George would have another run.
Fifteen minutes before I had to leave to collect Danny from school, the telephone rang. I answered it and a familiar but unsteady female voice said, ‘Cathy?’
‘Yes. Is that you, Reva?’
‘It is … I hope you don’t mind me phoning,’ she said, slurring her words, ‘but I need to talk … and you’re a good listener. Cathy … my husband is having an affair … and I think I’m going to divorce him … What do you think of that … Cathy?’
Not a lot, and even less that Reva was blind stinking drunk.
Chapter Fourteen
Traumatic
‘I’ve suspected he’s been up to something for a while …’ Reva continued haltingly. ‘But now I have proof. You’ll never guess what I found … A receipt, tucked in the pocket of his best jacket … a receipt from a jeweller for a very expensive necklace … He hasn’t given me a necklace, so who the hell has he given it to?’
While I could sympathize with Reva – I’d also discovered a jeweller’s receipt when my husband had been having an affair – she wouldn’t be interested in what I had to say. Having tried to anaesthetize her pain with alcohol, she was now wallowing in self-pity and just wanted to talk and unburden herself.
‘What have I done to deserve this?’ she said with a small sob. ‘I’ve always been faithful to him, honestly I have … I’ve had my chances … I used to be attractive. I gave up a good career to have his child. I’ve always put myself second, and this is how he rewards me! The bastard. I hate him!’ There now followed a diatribe against Richard and all he’d done to hurt her and not done to help her, culminating in his rejection of Danny. ‘It’s his fault as much as mine that Danny is like he is … He’s never been a father to Danny … At least I tried to be his mother.’
While I appreciated Reva was upset and needed to talk, I was mindful of the time. ‘Reva, I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m going to have to phone you back. I have to leave soon to collect Danny from school.’
‘Oh, silly me, of course,’ she slurred. ‘Time has become a bit meaningless with nothing to do all day. You go … No need to call me back though … I’m going to bed to sleep this lot off before Richard gets in.’ She hung up and the line went dead.
I left the house with my concerns for Reva mounting. She was obviously upset at discovering her husband’s infidelity, but it had also sounded as though she resented having to give up work to parent Danny. Her comment about being attractive once showed just how low her self-esteem had sunk. But drinking herself into a stupor wasn’t going to help, and she’d now placed me in the unenviable position of having to tell Terri of this incident as well.
Thankfully, in contrast to his mother, Danny had had a good day.
‘I’m so pleased with Danny,’ Yvonne said. ‘He’s done a lovely piece of writing on our topic, The Great Fire of London. He also joined the other children for story time.’
‘Well done, Danny,’ I said, smiling at him.
‘George,’ Danny replied, flapping his arms in excitement.
Yvonne laughed kindly. ‘He’s been so looking forward to seeing George when he gets home.’
‘I’m sure George is looking forward to seeing you too,’ I said to Danny.
Yvonne and I wished each other a nice weekend and said goodbye. Danny held my hand nicely as we walked to the car.
George wasn’t the only one looking forward to Danny’s arrival. When we got in, Adrian, Lucy and Paula had their coats on ready to go with Danny when he took George for a walk in the garden. They appreciated George was more than a pet to Danny and he was Danny’s responsibility, so they wouldn’t take the initiative in looking after George but would follow Danny’s lead. Danny was immediately at the back door, and as soon as I opened it he rushed out. However, just at that moment a large raindrop fell, quickly followed by another and another.
‘House,’ Danny said as he opened the hutch door.
‘Can we take George in the house?’ Paula asked me excitedly.
‘Yes, that’s what Danny does at home,’ I replied.
‘Oh, great!’ Paula said.
‘But we’ll have to make sure Toscha is all right,’ I added. ‘She’s a bit unsure of George at present.’
‘I’ll look out for Toscha,’ Lucy said.
‘House,’ Danny said again, this time to George.
Danny turned and headed in through the back door with George at his heels like a well-trained puppy.
‘Look at the size of him!’ Lucy exclaimed, seeing George out of his hutch for the first time.
‘I bet he does massive poops,’ Adrian declared.
‘Hopefully not too many,’ I said.
But there was a feeling of light-heartedness and gaiety as we followed Danny through the kitchen with George hopping beside him. When it comes to cute animals and adorable pets we’re all children at heart, and George was truly in a category of his own. Even Danny, whose movements were often slow and cumbersome and who had difficulty expressing emotion, had a lightness about him, now clearly far more at ease with George beside him. In the living room Danny went to the Lego still on the floor and, squatting down, began telling George about it in some detail.
‘I change my Lego pattern every day,’ Danny said clearly. ‘This is a yellow brick and
this is a green brick. This is a red brick. I have made a yellow, green and red pattern.’
George put his nose to the bricks and sniffed them as though understanding Danny’s narrative.
‘I’ve done well,’ Danny told George. ‘I’ve done a good job. I’ve made an interesting pattern.’ I was amazed. These were some of the phrases I’d used to praise Danny, yet he’d given no indication at the time that he’d even heard them – let alone remembered them.
Adrian, Paula, Lucy and I stood watching Danny in awe as he continued telling George about the sequence of colours while stroking and petting him. The improvement in Danny’s language skills while talking to George compared to people was remarkable. Danny was using phrases to converse and was interacting with George, so why didn’t he talk to children at school and try to make friends? What had made him so fearful of interacting with his peer group? George, for his part, sat still with his head cocked slightly to one side as though listening to what Danny was telling him.
After some minutes Danny stood and said to George, ‘It’s warm in the house. In the house I take my coat off. I hang my coat on the coat stand.’
‘Yes, well done, Danny,’ I said, completely bemused.
Danny went out of the living room, with George at his heels and us following, to the coat stand where he told George, ‘I undo the zip on my coat like this.’
Danny began drawing down the zip, as usual finding it difficult but wanting to do it himself. ‘It’s a zip fastener, not the end of the world,’ he told George, using the exact phrase I’d used when his zip had stuck. I hid a smile.
He took off his coat and then told George, ‘I can’t reach to hang up my coat. I have help.’
I went forward ready to lift him up so he could reach, but he turned and held up his arms to Adrian, wanting him to lift him up. We watched, touched, as Adrian lifted Danny high into the air, higher than I did and making it into a game. Danny looped his coat over the stand and actually smiled. When Adrian set Danny on the floor again he said to George, ‘Shall I show you around the house now?’