‘Me too,’ I agreed, as I concentrated on starting the car and turning on the heating. There had been a heavy frost during the night.
‘Most of her friends were horrible,’ he went on. ‘They were horrible to me. I don’t know what she sees in them.’
I sat with the engine running as the lines of melted frost slowly etched their way across the windscreen. ‘How were they horrible, Tayo?’
‘They used to get drunk and shout at her and me. Sometimes they walloped me or told me to get the fuck out. So I had to leave the room. They used to hit her as well.’
‘This was when you were staying in rented bedsits? Not with families like the one you stayed with over Christmas?’
‘No, they were proper friends – well, Mum didn’t really know them, but they were nice to me. If I stayed with families they were nice; it was all the others, the men.’
‘Were your mum’s friends all men?’ I asked. Tayo was clearly in the mood for talking and I’d have to make a note of all this in my log when I returned home.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘She never had any women friends that I knew.’
‘They don’t sound much like friends to me. How long had she known these men?’
‘Not long. She’d go out at night and bring one back, sometimes more than one. Different men, sometimes three a week. They’d bring loads of booze with them and start drinking and laughing and then shouting and hitting each other. Sometimes they were still there in the morning. I hated that. They were in a right bad mood and would swear, and then have a go at me.’
I flipped the windscreen wipers to clear the melted frost. ‘What do you mean by “have a go” at you?’
‘You know – ask me what the fuck I was looking at and then belt me round the ear.’
‘Where was Mum?’
‘In bed, asleep, with a hangover. She never gets up until the afternoon.’
I turned to face Tayo. ‘Did any of these men try and touch you in a sexual way?’ It was a direct question but Tayo was old enough and intelligent enough to know what I meant and give a direct answer.
‘No, not really. Well, one wanted to come in the bathroom with me and watch me pee. But I Iocked the door each time I went. He was there for a week, drunken pervert. Another kept trying to stroke my leg when we sat on the sofa but I got up and went out.’
‘But no one actually molested you?’
‘No. I’d have kicked him where it hurt.’
Thank goodness, I thought, at least Tayo had escaped the added trauma of sexual abuse, apparently because of his intelligence and quick thinking. I put the car into gear and pulled out of the drive.
‘They were mostly ex-cons,’ Tayo continued, looking out of the side window as I drove slowly down the frost-heavy road. ‘They used to brag about what they’d been banged up for, banged up means going to prison.’ I nodded. ‘Some of them carried knives. They’d flash them around when they got drunk or high. They thought they looked big.’
‘High on what?’
‘Drugs. You know, they’d either inject it or sniff it, crack mainly, I think. One bloke, John, even had a gun. It was loaded, he showed me the bullets and kept pointing it at me. He was laughing because I was scared, Mum laughed too, but I didn’t think it was funny. When he passed out from the booze, I thought about taking it from his pocket and shooting him. But I didn’t want to get banged up too.’
‘That was sensible,’ I said, struggling to picture this underworld existence of drink and drug-fuelled violence. Tayo’s loyalty to his mother was quickly evaporating and his anger was showing through. Was that because Tayo recognized that, by passing our telephone number to one of these men, his mother had jeopardized his safety yet again? Perhaps the idea of being sent back to her was too terrible to contemplate now that he’d lived another, safer and more secure life for a while.
And how many other children, I wondered, were living in this twilight zone that Tayo described, struggling on, in a hand-to-mouth existence, fending off advances, party to things that the average person only ever saw depicted on late-night television? If there was no record of these children entering or being in the country, and they weren’t on any medical, education, or Social Services databases, they were completely hidden; no one could help them because no one knew they even existed.
‘Can you remember a time when you lived in this country and things were normal with you and your mum?’ I asked.
‘No. It was always like that – moving, stealing food from shops, Mum going out at night and bringing back drunken blokes. It was only with the families when things were normal, nice, like they were with my dad and gran. I wish I was still with my dad and gran, they were the happiest days of my life.’
I met his gaze in the rear-view mirror and smiled an acknowledgement. ‘I hope you’re happy now, Tayo,’ I said. ‘I know it’s not easy but as you said to Sandra yesterday, you’ve got plenty of food and clothes, your own room, and you know you’re safe.’
‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘I don’t mean to be ungrateful. And I like football too. I just wish I was with my dad.’
‘You don’t have to be grateful, you’re only getting what you should have had all along.’ Again I marvelled at the huge gap between the person Tayo was now, and what he could have become, living that existence for five years. I admired his character and his tenacity. He’d been determined not to be destroyed by what was happening to him, and he’d succeeded. It was his victory.
The phone rang three times during the afternoon and each time I answered I was on edge, aware that Sandra wouldn’t have spoken to Minty yet. But I needn’t have worried. The first call was from the Guardian Ad Litum, appointed by the court to represent the child’s interests for the duration of the case. This was her first contact and she asked how Tayo had settled in, then said she wanted to come and see us. I fetched my diary and we agreed on Thursday at four. Her name was Alison Hemming-Sanders, which I thought was a bit of a mouthful. She said she hadn’t had a chance to read Tayo’s file yet but hoped to have done so by then. I hoped so too.
The second phone call was from Jill, checking that everything was running smoothly between her visits. As I was an experienced foster carer she knew that I could be left to get on with it, and that I would ask for help and advice if I needed it. I updated her and then fetched my diary and penned in the day of her next visit.
Jill hadn’t long been off the line when Sandra rang to confirm that she had spoken to Aisha at the Headline Family Centre, and that Aisha would be extremely vigilant in future and was sorry for what had happened. Sandra, with her usual efficiency, had also spoken to the Head at Meadway school and asked them to be vigilant too, as Tayo could be approached by one of his mum’s associates or even snatched.
‘I’ll be at contact tonight to see Minty – but don’t tell Tayo,’ Sandra said. ‘It’s best if he doesn’t know in case he feels he has to warn his mother. She’s already avoiding my calls.’
‘I’m not so sure he would do that,’ I replied. ‘He’s quickly losing his loyalty to her.’ I told her what he’d said to me in the car about his life with his mother.
‘We’re starting to build up a picture,’ Sandra said. ‘If only Minty would overcome her hostility and start talking to me, I might be able to help her, but I can’t until she does.’
‘No,’ I agreed. I told her that the Guardian had been in touch and was visiting later that week.
‘Good. And, Cathy, I’ve asked my manager about Tayo going to have a look at the area where he thought he worked in London, but she’s not keen.’
‘Oh?’
‘She feels it would be too unsettling for him especially when it might not lead to anything. So I’m afraid it means we can’t take this aspect of the investigation into his past any further. And without an address the police can’t act.’
‘I understand,’ I said.
‘I’m disappointed.’
‘So am I. I won’t tell Tayo. He’s hoping something will be done to rescue his f
riends.’ I had to accept the decision of Social Services, although I wasn’t convinced it was the right one. I’d have thought having his disclosures acted on would have given Tayo a boost even if it didn’t come to anything.
‘I’ll be in touch later then, Cathy, after I’ve seen Minty,’ said Sandra.
‘OK. Thanks.’
* * *
I collected Tayo as usual from school and took him to the contact centre. I was relishing the prospect of seeing Minty even less than usual. Not only was I fast losing all sympathy for her plight as a mother, but the threats she’d issued had been terrifying, and her attitude towards me had obviously become personal and vindictive. I was determined not to show her that I was afraid, though. Bullies, for that was what she undoubtedly was, thrive on seeing their victims scared.
Tayo chatted about school and football during the twenty-minute journey but when we turned into the road to the Headline Family Centre, he fell silent.
‘I hope my mum isn’t too angry about me snitching on her,’ he said.
‘It wasn’t snitching, Tayo, you did what was right. You know that it was your mother who was in the wrong. Aisha will be keeping a watchful eye from now on, so if your mum does try and say anything like that to you, Aisha will stop her.’ And anyway, I thought grimly, Minty doesn’t yet know she’s been caught out.
Tayo was still subdued as we got out of the car and went through the security gate and into reception. James, the centre manager, was waiting for us. ‘Hello, Tayo, Cathy,’ he said brightly. ‘How are you?’
‘Fine, thanks,’ I said.
Tayo looked at him and nodded.
‘Mum’s here with Aisha. You’re in Blue Room today, Tayo. I’ll show you through.’
We followed James down the short corridor and stopped outside the blue door. James knocked and opened it. ‘Tayo’s here,’ he said.
We followed him in, Minty was already on her feet coming towards us, or rather towards James. ‘Why did you put us in here?’ she demanded.
I looked about. Blue Room was smaller than Yellow, but was still well equipped with a sofa, television, small table, three chairs, and plenty of games, toys and books.
‘As I said earlier, Minty,’ James said patiently, ‘Yellow Room is needed for a large family today. This is fine for the two of you.’
Minty’s eyes flashed with anger and her face set. This was obviously an argument that had begun earlier.
‘Well? I’m waiting!’ Minty shouted, clearly unmoved by James’s explanation.
‘Don’t, Mum,’ implored Tayo.
Her eyes flashed again, then her gaze fell on me.
I smiled. ‘Hello, Minty, how are you?’ My voice was light and even.
‘I’m good. Thank you for asking, Cathy.’ She smiled back. ‘And I’d be a damn sight better if these bastards stopped pissing me around, wouldn’t I?’ She glared at James.
I said nothing. James was evidently the object of Minty’s wrath today; perhaps he’d be getting a nasty phone call later instead of me.
‘Minty,’ James said, ‘as I explained when you first came in, I can’t guarantee the same room each time. I do my best to keep change to a minimum but I can’t promise any more than that.’
She rolled her eyes upwards.
‘Mum!’ Tayo said again and went towards the sofa. I headed for the door.
‘Everything all right?’ James asked Aisha, who was sitting at the table with her notebook in front of her. She nodded. ‘I’m in my office if you need me.’
Without further ado we came out and James closed the door. He hovered outside for a moment, looking through the glass panel to make sure Minty didn’t turn and vent her anger on Aisha, while I continued down the corridor, through reception and let myself out.
Does Minty have mental health problems? I wondered as I headed for the car. She wouldn’t be the first parent I’d met who had done themselves real damage with drug and alcohol abuse. Those chemicals attacked the brain and central nervous system, and I remembered reading that excessive and long-term substance abuse could lead to irreversible brain damage. Minty’s ability to function as a person and as a parent would be assessed as part of the court proceedings when she would spend about six sessions with a psychiatrist. From what I’d seen so far, I wasn’t very convinced of a positive outcome.
Back home I prepared dinner for the girls and myself, making sure there was extra in case Minty didn’t bring Tayo’s dinner into contact. It hadn’t seemed prudent for me to ask her when I’d seen her.
Tayo was returned by Aisha at six, and he was in very good spirits. ‘I saw Sandra,’ he said, as he bounced in. ‘She came at the end of contact, and she had the biggest bodyguard you’ve ever seen! He was massive. Over seven feet tall! With huge muscles, and body armour, and a great big motorbike! I’m going to be a bodyguard when I grow up!’
‘Are you?’ I said, and smiled at Aisha. ‘This morning he wanted to be a lawyer.’
‘Our security guard isn’t quite seven feet tall – more like six feet two,’ she said with a grin. ‘Sandra is with Minty now.’ As Tayo disappeared down the hall, she added, ‘Minty was very confused again. At first I thought she might be drunk, but there was no smell of alcohol and she seemed more bewildered than intoxicated.’
‘I’m beginning to wonder if confusion and temper aren’t just her normal state,’ I said unkindly.
‘I’m so sorry for what happened with your telephone number,’ said Aisha, reddening. ‘I didn’t leave them unattended even for a second today, and noted down everything Minty said.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ I reassured. ‘It was OK in the end.’
‘Minty wanted to play noughts and crosses at one point, but when I sat so that I could see what was being written, she suddenly lost interest.’
‘Do you think she was trying to exchange written messages with Tayo?’ I asked.
‘I’m sure of it. But apart from that, Tayo spent most of the time watching television. Oh yes – Minty didn’t bring any food again, so Tayo hasn’t eaten.’
I thanked Aisha for bringing Tayo home, wished her a pleasant evening and went inside. When I served dinner for the four of us, Tayo said, ‘How did you know my mum hadn’t brought food in?’
‘I didn’t,’ I said, ‘but I’ll always do extra just in case. Don’t worry, you won’t ever go hungry here.’
‘I know that now,’ he said.
* * *
At nearly half past seven in the evening, with the meal finished, and Lucy, Paula and Tayo ensconced in their bedrooms doing their homework, the phone rang.
It was Sandra, and I could tell immediately something was wrong. Her voice quivered unsteadily and normally she was so calm and composed.
‘I’ve only just got away from Minty,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I thought she was going to hit me!’
I could hear background noise and knew she wasn’t in the contact centre. ‘Where are you?’
‘On the bus. Going home. She waited for me after we’d finished, round the corner from Headline.’
‘What? Are you OK?’ The idea of Minty lying in wait for me was terrifying. No wonder Sandra was in a state.
Her voice quivered again. ‘Yes, thank God she didn’t follow me onto the bus.’ I heard her take a deep breath. ‘We didn’t finish at Headline until nearly seven. Minty left first, in a rage. I waited until she’d gone, then dismissed the security guard and left. When I turned the corner and started walking towards the bus stop, she appeared from nowhere. She was so angry, Cathy, and there was no one around. She kept screaming at me, ranting and raging and making no sense at all. I tried to calm her, but it was hopeless, she just wouldn’t listen, so I started walking away. I got all the way down Pallin Road with her a few steps behind screaming obscenities.’
Pallin Road, where Headline was situated, was a quiet and secluded side road. The only other building was a block of council-owned retirement flats, whose occupants were hardly likely to venture out and intervene if they
heard a disturbance.
‘I kept trying to calm her down,’ Sandra went on, ‘but she wouldn’t listen. I threatened to call the police a number of times, but it was only when I actually dialled the number that she backed off, so I cancelled the call and got to the bus stop with her following a short way behind. I could hear her talking to herself non-stop, some of it was about me and what she was going to do, but a lot of it was gibberish. She waited about five yards from me while I was at the bus stop. She was watching me the whole time, and her mouth kept moving as if she was talking to herself. I decided that if she followed me onto the bus I would have to call the police again, but she didn’t, thank goodness.’ Sandra gave a heartfelt sigh, relieved to have unburdened herself. ‘It was the weirdest thing,’ she said. ‘And I’ll admit I was frightened. I’ve obviously dealt with angry parents before but this was something else – she seemed deranged. If I have to see Minty again at Headline, I’ll leave by taxi and have the security guard see me to it. Sorry, Cathy,’ she said, at last recovering from her ordeal, ‘I’m in a bit of a state. I couldn’t think of anyone to call at this time.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘As long as you’re safe. So how did the actual meeting go?’
‘Minty wasn’t so angry to begin with, but I had Bob the security guard with me then. She was very confused though, and kept starting sentences but not finishing them. I tried to explain I wanted to help her but she kept saying I’d be sorry for taking Tayo. She wouldn’t give me her contact details even when I explained it was so I could send the paperwork, and also for her assessment. She said she was staying with friends and it was none of my effing business. I can’t assess her with no home address, and if she’s not assessed then there’s no way she’ll get Tayo back.’
I knew Sandra meant the assessment she would be doing, which was separate from the assessment the psychiatrist would make. The social workers focused on Minty’s home life and whether she could provide a stable and suitable environment for a child of ten.
‘I hadn’t said anything to her at this point about the telephone call,’ Sandra continued. ‘I’d left it until the end in the hope that I’d have won her trust and cooperation, but there was no chance. I asked her about Tayo’s father and pointed out if he could be found, and if he was willing, he could also be assessed with a view to looking after Tayo. I didn’t tell her that Tayo had said he wanted to live with him – I thought that would incite her further. She said it was none of his effing business and he wouldn’t be interested in Tayo anyway.’ Sandra paused. ‘Yet I had the feeling that she thought if he knew Tayo was in care, he would be angry with her, which suggests there was a relationship between Tayo and his father.’