Finding Stevie: Part 2 of 3: A teenager in crisis

Copyright

Certain details in this story, including names, places and dates, have been changed to protect the family’s privacy.

HarperElement

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published by HarperElement 2019

FIRST EDITION

Text © Cathy Glass 2019

Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019

Cover photograph © Mark Owen/Trevillion Images (posed by a model)

A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

Cathy Glass asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Find out about HarperCollins and the environment at

www.harpercollins.co.uk/green

Source ISBN: 9780008324292

Ebook Edition © February 2019 ISBN: 9780008324339

Version: 2019-01-09

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter Eleven: Missing

Chapter Twelve: Something Much Worse

Chapter Thirteen: Confession

Chapter Fourteen: Disclosure

Chapter Fifteen: Excluded

Chapter Sixteen: Another Police Search

Chapter Seventeen: Disappointing News

Chapter Eighteen: Dejected and Moody

Chapter Nineteen: Messed Up

Moving Memoirs eNewsletter

About the Publisher

Chapter Eleven

Missing

The following day Stevie’s laptop was delivered and he was very pleased. Adrian, Lucy and Paula had their own laptops, and there was the PC with a printer in the front room for us all to use. As Stevie disappeared upstairs clutching his new laptop, it crossed my mind that he hadn’t ever responded to my Facebook friendship request, but I didn’t read anything into it. The need to see who he was in touch with online had lessened since he’d confessed about Joey, and his behaviour had settled down.

February arrived and we woke up one Sunday morning to find a thick blanket of snow, and everyone became a child again. Because it was Sunday we were all at home and could make the most of it. Adrian had arranged to see Kirsty, but they cancelled as the roads hadn’t been cleared and were unsafe to drive on. Big as my family were, when I suggested we got the toboggan out of the shed and took it to our local park, there were cheers of delight. Stevie said he’d been tobogganing when he’d lived with his grandparents and would have liked to have played in the snow with Liam and Kiri, but he understood that I couldn’t take him there in my car because of the snow and there weren’t any buses running.

The park is only a short walk from our house and is known in the area for the hill that makes a good toboggan run in the snow. It was late morning when we arrived and we saw some of our friends and neighbours there. Stevie saw a boy from his class and they chatted for a few minutes, then we dragged our toboggan to the top of the hill and took turns coming down. It was great fun and the air was alive with laughter and screams as children of all ages, and adults, hurtled down the slope on toboggans, trays, sheets of plastic and cardboard – anything that would slide. We were there for a couple of hours and then, with our cheeks glowing from the cold, we returned home for hot drinks and lunch.

While I love summer, I think winter has a special quality in bringing families closer together. With the curtains closed against a cold night sky, no one is in any rush to go out and everyone is more content to spend time with each other in the warmth of the house. Winter seems to cocoon the family and strengthen family bonds, although perhaps that’s just me being sentimental. At the weekends we group around board games – Scrabble, Monopoly, Cluedo and so on – and play with a real competitive spirit. Stevie said nostalgically that he used to play board games with just him and his grandparents when Kiri and Liam had been little. ‘That’s a nice memory,’ I said. ‘Why not suggest playing next time you’re there? Kiri and Liam are old enough to join in now.’ I thought again what a good job of parenting Peggy and Fred had done and how committed they’d been to raising Stevie and then later Kiri and Liam. They’d had no retirement in which they could slow the pace and take things easy, and I hoped Stevie appreciated that.

The whole of February was bitterly cold, although we didn’t get any more snow. Then March arrived and the first green buds of spring started to appear. Stevie had been with us for two months and I felt everything was going well. I’d had a chat with Verity and she’d confirmed the way I was fostering Stevie was fine, and she’d spoken to Fred and Peggy about this. Stevie was attending school, seeing his grandparents and Liam and Kiri a couple of times a week, and getting along with my family. Indeed, it was difficult to remember a time before he’d arrived, although of course I’d never forget the other children I’d fostered.

Then suddenly and dramatically, almost overnight, Stevie changed. He became withdrawn, moody and snapped if anyone asked him what was the matter. It was difficult to get him to shower and he spent most of the time in his room. He wanted his meals there too, although I insisted he come down to eat with us, as I thought the last thing he needed was to spend more time alone. When I asked him what was worrying him – which I did often – he said, ‘Nothing.’ If I pressed him, he just got annoyed.

Stevie’s behaviour continued for a week. I noted the change in my log and also telephoned Verity. She said she’d talk to Stevie to see if he would tell her what was wrong, but it wouldn’t be for a few days, as she was in court on another case for most of the week. She added that Stevie should really see a therapist at CAMHS and she’d suggest it to him again.

Stevie had stopped visiting his grandparents and when I asked him why he said sulkily, ‘Don’t want to go.’

‘Have you and your grandfather been arguing?’ I asked.

‘No more than usual,’ came his terse response.

Peggy naturally telephoned to find out why Stevie hadn’t been to see them. I said he seemed down again and anxious, and that I’d informed Verity. While Peggy was concerned, she said, ‘Probably best Stevie doesn’t come here while he’s like that. Fred doesn’t have time for the sulks.’ Which I could imagine.

I hadn’t telephoned the school, as I hoped Stevie’s behaviour wasn’t impacting there but was confined to home. I assumed if there was anything wrong Carolyn would phone me. She did, the following Tuesday. She said that during the last lesson Stevie had been caught in class checking his phone, which should have been switched off and in his bag. In keeping with school policy, the teacher had asked him to hand over his phone, as it would be confiscated until the end of the school day. Stevie had refused, then shouted at her to fuck off and had stormed out of school. I wasn’t wholly surprised. I’d guessed something had been building inside Stevie, I just wished he could have told me what. I apologised for Stevie’s behaviour, told Carolyn I’d speak to him as soon as he came home and admitted that his behaviour with me had been giving me some cause for concern, although he’d been quiet rather than aggressive. Carolyn said Stevie could return to school the following morning, but he would need to see the Head first and apologise to the teacher before he was allowed to rejoin his class. I thanked her and said again I would talk to Stevie as soon as he came home.

But he didn’t come home. Four-thirty came and went, and when it got to five o’clock I called his mobile. It went through to voicemail. I left a message and also texted him: Can you text or phone me, please. I’m worried about you. Carolyn phoned. You’re not suspended but we need to talk. It was possible he’d gone to his grandparents, but I hesitated in calling them because if he wasn’t there it would worry them, perhaps unnecessarily. However, foster carers have to follow a set procedure for reporting a child or young person missing, and I knew I’d have to call the duty social worker before long, then the police. They’d want to know I’d checked all the possible places he might be. I tried Stevie’s phone again and it went through to voicemail, so at 5.45, with the daylight failing and no word from Stevie, I called his grandparents. A child answered.

‘Hello. Is that Liam?’ I guessed it was him rather than his younger sister.

‘Yes.’

‘Can I speak to your gran or grandpa, please?’

‘Grandpa is here.’

‘Thank you.’ I would rather have spoken to Peggy, but I couldn’t really say that.

Fred came on the line with a gruff ‘Hello?’

‘Fred, it’s Cathy, Stevie’s carer. Is Stevie with you?’

‘So he’s up to his old tricks again. No. Haven’t seen him for over a week.’

‘I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, but there was a bit of an incident at school this afternoon and he hasn’t come home yet. I’ve tried phoning him, but it goes through to voicemail.’

‘Just like what happened to us,’ he said with a certain satisfaction.

‘Can you think of anywhere he might have gone?’

‘He’s probably with one of his nancy friends.’

Ignoring his derogatory terminology, I said, ‘As far as I know, the only friend Stevie used to see out of school has gone to live abroad.’

‘Wouldn’t know about that,’ Fred said, which of course was part of the problem. Fred had been so dismissive of Stevie’s friendships and lifestyle choices that he had no idea who his grandson had been associating with or what he’d been doing.

‘So you can’t think of anywhere he might be?’ I asked. ‘The police are sure to ask me.’

‘Police? Why are you telling them? It’s only six o’clock.’

‘Yes, but Stevie should have been here at four-thirty, he’s not been in touch, so technically he’s been missing for an hour and a half. As his foster carer I have a duty to contact the social services and then report him missing to the police.’

‘And then he’ll breeze in, pleased with himself and enjoying all the attention,’ Fred said.

‘Possibly, but better that than the alternative – that something dreadful has happened to him.’ I didn’t want to alarm Fred, but his blasé attitude was not only annoying me, it was dangerous. Young people, especially those struggling with issues such as Stevie, are vulnerable and need protecting. All Fred saw was a stroppy teenager hell bent on antagonising him. ‘If he gets in touch or arrives there, will you let me know, please?’

‘Yes,’ he said bluntly. ‘But I doubt he’ll come here if he’s in trouble.’ Which, sadly, was probably true.

I tried Stevie’s mobile phone again, but it went through to voicemail. I told Adrian, Lucy and Paula to help themselves to dinner – there was a casserole in the oven – and I’d join them when I’d phoned the social services. They knew Stevie hadn’t come home and were aware of the procedure I had to follow, as I’d had to report other young people I’d fostered missing. At this point they weren’t unduly worried, more concerned – as I was – but as the evening wore on that would change.