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  ‘That’s enough,’ I said sternly. ‘Don’t make it worse with more lies. Let’s leave it.’

  When we arrived home, Tayo was still sulking. There was a quarter of an hour before his social worker was due to arrive and as we went in I called a general hello, then asked Tayo if he wanted a drink and a biscuit. He shrugged.

  ‘I’ll leave one at your place at the table,’ I said, ‘then you can have it if you want to.’

  He shrugged again, then went up to his room where I heard the television go on. He was still there fifteen minutes later when the doorbell rang. I answered the door and shook hands with Sandra Braxley. She was young, tall, with a pleasant and efficient manner, and black, which was exactly what Tayo needed. My spirits lifted. I showed her through to the lounge and offered her a drink.

  ‘Just a glass of water please, Cathy,’ she said. ‘And thank you so much for having Tayo.’

  ‘Not at all,’ I said. ‘I’m glad I was able to help.’ I fetched her the glass of water and some biscuits.

  ‘So, how is young Tayo settling in?’ she asked, taking an A4 writing pad and a pen from her briefcase.

  I told her the positives first – his courtesy, relaxed attitude and good behaviour – then the negatives, including his poor self-image in respect of his race and the lies he had told about breakfast, which still smarted. She made notes as I spoke and when I’d finished she said, ‘Yes. I can see we’re going to have to keep an eye on him. Where is he now?’

  ‘Upstairs, in his room.’

  ‘OK, leave him there for now. It won’t do him any harm, and it will give me a chance to bring you up to date.’

  I really did like her professional and direct approach. The standard of care the child receives depends largely on the competence of the social worker assigned to the case, and in nearly twenty-three years of fostering I’d seen everything from excellent to what could only be described as downright negligent. I was delighted that Sandra was obviously going to fall into the first category – experienced foster carers can tell almost immediately. It was a stroke of luck for Tayo that he would probably never know of.

  ‘I’ve spoken to Tayo’s mother, Minty,’ Sandra said. ‘She’s out on bail.’

  ‘Is she?’ I asked, surprised. ‘Didn’t she jump bail before?’

  ‘Yes, I was surprised too, and I thought she’d disappear again, but she phoned me on her mobile. I’ve set up a placement meeting for tomorrow.’

  ‘OK.’ I reached for my diary. ‘What time?’

  ‘I’ve made it at four, so could you bring Tayo straight from school? I think he’s mature enough to attend the meeting. It will be at the offices but I’m not sure which room yet. Could you wait in reception and I’ll come and find you?’

  I nodded again and wrote the details in my diary. ‘Who’s been invited?’

  ‘You and Tayo will be there, Minty, myself, my manager – Danuta Boyd – and there’ll be someone external chairing. I don’t know who yet.’

  I nodded again. This was what I would have expected for a placement meeting.

  ‘Minty is angry, obviously,’ Sandra continued. ‘And she wasn’t particularly coherent on the phone. But she says she wants to be involved, and is going to fight to get Tayo back. She’ll be assessed, and I’ll be working with her to see if rehabilitation is a possibility.’

  ‘Has she got a permanent address now?’ I asked, mindful of Tayo’s many moves.

  ‘She says so, but when I asked, she couldn’t remember what it was, so I’m a little dubious about that. Minty’s memory has been extremely faulty in the past. I’ve told her to bring the address with her tomorrow as I need it for the paperwork as much as anything. I’ve also told her she needs to get a solicitor, and she’s eligible for legal aid, but I’m not sure whether she’s taken this on board. I’ll explain the position again to her tomorrow. I’ve asked her to come in an hour before the placement meeting so I can speak to her. Now, contact,’ she said. ‘Contact’ is the term used to describe the meetings that are arranged for parents and children to spend time together. ‘I’m going to set up supervised face-to-face contact for Tuesday and Friday, starting this Friday at the Headline Family Centre in Pallin Road. Do you know it?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve had children there before.’

  ‘Good. Will you be able to take Tayo there straight from school? I was thinking of starting contact at four. Will that give you enough time?’

  ‘Yes, it should do. As long as Tayo comes out of school on time.’

  She nodded, and ticked a note on her pad. ‘I’m going to make both contact sessions an hour and half each to begin with. Shall I arrange for an escort to bring Tayo home, to save you having to wait around?’

  ‘Yes, please. That would be a great help.’ I liked the way Sandra thought things through and was considerate of my time.

  She made a note. ‘One of the staff at Headline will be supervising. I don’t know who yet, but they’re all good. And his mum’s asked for telephone contact as well. I wasn’t sure about that. She’s often pretty incoherent when she’s under the influence. But I’ve agreed to two calls a week. Are you happy to monitor them?’

  ‘That’s no problem at all.’ I was used to helping my foster children have phone contact. ‘Do you want the phone on loud speaker, or should I just be present in the room?’

  ‘Let’s try being present to begin with and see how it goes. Minty won’t be given your contact details so will you phone her mobile at a set time, and block your number? We can discuss the days and times of the calls at the placement meeting tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes.’ I paused and then asked, ‘Is Minty OK about meeting me?’

  I was well aware that parents of children who have just been taken into care are often very resentful of the person who has taken over their parenting and this can manifest itself as anger.

  ‘She didn’t say she had a problem with it, so we’ll assume not.’ Sandra threw me a stoical smile. ‘As with all of this, Cathy, we’ll just have to see how it goes.’ She glanced down at her notepad again. ‘I thought you’d be interested to know that I’ve spoken to the Home Office, and the Nigerian Embassy. There are no records of Tayo or his mother entering this country or residing there. The person I spoke to at the Nigerian Embassy was very helpful and said they’d double check. The problem is that they’re looking under the names we have, plus the two I had from the police for Minty, which could be different to the ones on their passports.’

  ‘I see. Didn’t Minty say they both had British passports?’

  ‘Yes – Minty is adamant that they do but the Home Office has no record of it, so it’s very doubtful. Apart from the school in Kent Tayo attended four years ago, and Minty’s three arrests, there’s absolutely no trace of either of them. Mum says they have been here for over five years but became vague when I asked her where they’d been living – and I could tell it was a surprise when I told her that I knew about the stay in Kent and Tayo going to school there. I only hope that she’ll be more forthcoming as time goes on, if I can win her trust.’

  I shook my head. ‘Isn’t it incredible, when you think about the amount of paperwork that follows us around here, that they’ve managed to live with none of it and survive for five years?’

  Sandra nodded in agreement. ‘Absolutely. And, of course, because they are not officially here they have not been able to access help, and Tayo has fallen through the net. I’m not sure he’s ever seen a doctor or a dentist.’

  ‘What – never?’ I was astonished. There might be a lot wrong with this country but everyone should have access to the basics of life: food, shelter and medicine.

  ‘I don’t think so. I told Minty we were still trying to find his medical records, and she became vague again, saying he was never ill. Which reminds me, Cathy – can you register him at your GP?’

  ‘Yes, though it will be interesting if he’s not on any system. They like a National Health number or a last GP address – or rather, the computer does.’


  ‘If there’s a problem, tell them to phone me, and I’ll explain. Also Tayo will need a Looked-After-Children medical in due course. I’ll send the forms directly to the doctor.’

  ‘Fine.’ It was a pleasure to deal with someone so businesslike and efficient. ‘I’ll register him tomorrow. Shall I book appointments at the opticians and dentist as well?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  I was used to this as it was standard procedure for any child who first came into care. So many of the children had never seen a dentist or optician, or were well overdue for their next check-up.

  ‘I’ve spoken to the family where Tayo stayed at Christmas,’ Sandra said. ‘Mr and Mrs Graham. They were helpful, and relieved that Tayo had been taken into care. They have two children and live in a block of flats in Eastbury Road. Minty and Tayo lived in the flat next door for a week at the beginning of December. The Grahams’ children are a similar age to Tayo and they began playing with him. Apparently Tayo was often seen hanging around on the landing while Mum was inside the flat, possibly entertaining. They weren’t sure and didn’t like to pry. They felt sorry for Tayo and asked him into their flat and often gave him a meal. Minty hardly spoke to them, and Tayo and Minty suddenly disappeared after a week. Mrs Graham thought it was because of non-payment of rent because the landlord knocked on their door and asked if they knew where they’d gone. The couple didn’t see either of them again until two days before Christmas when Minty turned up with Tayo and asked if he could stay. They assumed it would be for a day or so, but she left him there for the whole of the Christmas week. Mrs Graham rushed around before the shops closed on Christmas Eve and bought him presents. Minty did phone each day and spoke to Tayo on a mobile she’d given him. He always went out of the room to answer it so he couldn’t be overheard.’

  My heart went out to Tayo as I again thought of him being dumped with strangers over Christmas, albeit kind and generous ones. ‘Wasn’t he upset?’ I asked.

  ‘Apparently not, he just took it in his stride as though it was perfectly normal. To be honest, I think the Grahams were more upset for him. Minty turned up and took Tayo away three days after Christmas with no thanks for all they’d done, and no forwarding address. Mrs Graham was so worried she phoned Social Services. Added to the concerns we already had from his school, the taxi driver and another family who had looked after him, we applied for the ICO.’

  ‘What about the presents they gave him for Christmas?’ I asked. ‘Where are they?’

  ‘He took them with him.’

  ‘He hasn’t got them now. He arrived with nothing.’

  ‘So I understand. When we call him down we’ll try and find out what happened to the presents, and I’ll see if I can get them back. The couple has an old jumper of his which I can collect if he wants me to.’

  ‘What a sad state of affairs,’ I said.

  ‘Yes. And this only accounts for the last few months. What’s been happening in the other four or five years?’ Sandra sighed then checked her notes. ‘I think that brings you up to date, Cathy. Is there anything else you can think of before we bring Tayo down?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Shall I call him now?

  ‘Yes please.’

  I went to call Tayo from the bottom of the stairs and found him perched halfway down, with his arms looped around his legs, chin on knees and ears flapping.

  ‘Hello,’ I said brightly. ‘You should have come and joined in rather than sitting there ear-wigging.’ I winked and he grinned mischievously then hopped down beside me. Now I had him sussed I knew we were going to get along just fine.

  ‘Tayo, this is Sandra,’ I said as we entered the lounge. I saw Tayo do a double take and I wondered if it was because she was black. He quickly recovered and went immediately to shake her hand.

  ‘Sit down,’ Sandra said, patting the space next to her on the sofa.

  ‘I’m hungry, Cathy,’ he said with those forlorn-looking eyes, glancing at Sandra for sympathy.

  ‘Well, I did offer you a drink and biscuit when we first came in,’ I said, as much for Sandra’s benefit as a reminder to Tayo.

  ‘I won’t keep you long,’ Sandra said. ‘Then you can have your dinner.’

  He sat next to her, upright and hands in lap.

  Sandra turned towards him. ‘I’ve spoken to your mother on the phone, Tayo, and she sends her love. I’ve told her you’re being well looked after, and she’s looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. I’ve arranged what’s called a placement meeting. Cathy knows all about it and she’ll explain later. After tomorrow you’ll be seeing your mum every Tuesday and Friday and phoning her twice a week. Do you still have the mobile she gave you to use over Christmas?’

  Tayo shook his head and looked slightly taken aback, probably because Sandra knew about the mobile. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Mum borrowed it and had to give it back.’ Good, I thought. Mobiles were always a problem as far as I was concerned because it was almost impossible to supervise and monitor their use.

  ‘You remember that you stayed with Mr and Mrs Graham over Christmas?’ Sandra continued. ‘Well, they have a jumper of yours. Do you want it? I’ll collect it if you do.’

  There was another flicker of surprise on Tayo’s face at the mention of this other detail Sandra was aware of. He shook his head. ‘No, thank you. Cathy’s bought me loads of new stuff.’

  ‘Lucky boy,’ Sandra said. ‘And what about all those Christmas presents Mr and Mrs Graham gave you? You and Mum took them with you. If you know where they are, I can try and get them for you. I understand there was an MP3 player among other things. I’m sure you’d like that.’

  ‘The landlady took them,’ Tayo said flatly.

  ‘Which landlady?’ Sandra asked. ‘Do you know the address?’

  ‘No. It was a long way from here. We went there on a train after Christmas, but only for a few days. The landlady wouldn’t let us in one day and kept all my things. Mum said she was a thief.’

  I could guess why the landlady had kept them, but I left the explanation to Sandra.

  ‘Tayo, I don’t think the landlady was a thief. She’s probably kept back any valuables because your mother didn’t pay the rent. She’s allowed to do that. If you do know the address I could speak with her and explain the things were yours and she might let me have them.’

  I watched Tayo as he considered this, and I could tell he was weighing up the attraction of having his Christmas presents returned, with having to be disloyal to his mother. ‘I can’t remember,’ he said, at last, loyalty winning.

  ‘That’s fine,’ Sandra said lightly.

  Then he added despondently, ‘You wouldn’t get them back anyway. I never do. That’s why I haven’t got any things.’

  Sandra didn’t look up as she wrote, not wanting Tayo to appreciate the significance of what he’d said, and might yet say. Instead, she said, ‘It must be very sad for you to keep losing your things in all the moves.’

  He nodded. ‘I had a DVD player, and a bike.’

  ‘When was that?’ Sandra asked nonchalantly.

  ‘Last year.’

  ‘And another landlady kept them?’

  ‘No. It was a man. Mum said she’d have him locked up because he was a thief and a liar.’

  I doubt that, I thought. Minty was obviously very good at persuading Tayo that their troubles were everybody else’s fault. I said nothing.

  ‘Do you know the address where this happened, or any of the other addresses where you stayed?’ Sandra asked, still low key and not wanting Tayo to put up his guard.

  ‘No,’ he said adamantly, obviously feeling he had said enough, and changed the subject. ‘What will happen to me?’ he asked, his large brown eyes turning towards Sandra.

  Sandra looked at him kindly and smiled. ‘You’ll be staying here with Cathy until everything is sorted out, and I know you’ll be well looked after. I expect Cathy has already explained some of the process to you, about the judge and all the reports that are written.’

 
Tayo nodded and listened carefully as Sandra went over a few points, and explained her role and that of the Guardian Ad Litum. ‘Both the Guardian and I will spend a lot of time talking to you and listening to you before we report back to the judge.’

  ‘And when all that’s done? What then?’ Tayo asked.

  ‘At the final court hearing the judge will decide where you’ll be best looked after until you are an adult.’

  ‘And how long will it take?’

  Sandra glanced at me. ‘It’s difficult to say but about nine months to a year. And I know you’ll have a great time here while everything is being taken care of.’ Tayo nodded. ‘Is there anything else you want to ask me now, Tayo?’

  He shook his head, then added, ‘Can I have my dinner now?’

  Sandra and I smiled. ‘Very soon,’ I said.

  ‘One last thing, Tayo,’ Sandra said. ‘You told Cathy you wanted to go and live in Nigeria. Do you have relatives there? If so, I’ll try and contact them and see if it’s a possibility.’

  I watched Tayo’s face quickly shut down and I knew for certain he wasn’t going to risk further disloyalty to his mum or possibly her wrath, by saying any more at present. ‘Not sure,’ he said and gave one of his characteristic shrugs.

  ‘OK,’ Sandra said, closing her notepad. ‘I know you’re hungry, so how about if Cathy makes you something to eat, while we have a game of cards before I go. I’ll show you some tricks.’ She took a pack of cards from her briefcase.

  This was my cue to leave the two of them together. Social workers are supposed to spend time alone with the child on each visit in case there are issues the child wants to raise concerning their care or carer. It’s not the most pleasant of feelings to know that your best endeavours are up for scrutiny and you’re not present to be able to answer criticism, particularly with a child like Tayo who was capable of manipulating the truth to his own ends – but, like all foster carers, I just had to accept it.