Where Has Mummy Gone?: Part 2 of 3: A young girl and a mother who no longer knows her

Copyright

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

HarperElement

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First published by HarperElement 2018

FIRST EDITION

Text © Cathy Glass 2018

Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018

Cover photograph © Kristina Dominianni/Arcangel 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

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Source ISBN: 9780008305468

Ebook Edition © August 2018 ISBN: 9780008305505

Version 2018-07-31

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter Eleven: Review

Chapter Twelve: Four Sleeps

Chapter Thirteen: Heartbreaking

Chapter Fourteen: Precious Freedom

Chapter Fifteen: Staying Positive

Chapter Sixteen: Amanda – a Mother

Chapter Seventeen: Not Thursday

Chapter Eighteen: Developments

Chapter Nineteen: Caught His Plane

Moving Memoirs eNewsletter

About the Publisher

Chapter Eleven

Review

We made the most of the snow while it lasted: after breakfast on Saturday we all went tobogganing in a nearby park, then in the afternoon we made a snowman in the garden and had a snowball fight. But as often happens in England after a snowfall, the thaw quickly set in. On Sunday the garden began to reappear, revealing a few brave crocus flowers that had survived the impact of the snow. By Monday there was just a slushy mess, although Melody’s snow angel was the last to melt. This wasn’t wholly surprising, as the snow had been compacted by Melody lying on it, and it was in a shaded part of the garden. But for Melody it was a sign her mother was close by and thinking of her; I agreed she was.

I took Melody to school as normal on Monday morning, but my day was very short, as I had to return to the school for 2.30 for her first review. Dressed smartly in what my children refer to as my office outfit – navy skirt, blouse and jacket – I arrived for the review in plenty of time and signed the Visitors’ Book. One of the secretaries showed me to the Headmistress’s room where I’d gone when I’d first brought Melody into school, and it was now being used for the meeting. Jill and a man I hadn’t met before were already seated in the two armchairs. Extra chairs had been brought in and placed either side of the sofa and armchairs to form a circle. Jill smiled, said hello and introduced the man as the Independent Reviewing Officer (IRO), who would chair and minute the meeting. IROs are qualified social workers with extra training, but they are not connected with the social services. Having said hello, I gave him the review forms Melody and I had completed and sat next to Jill.

Almost immediately the door opened and Miss May and Mrs Farnham, the Deputy Head, came in. They said a general hello and sat down, Miss May in the chair to my left. ‘Melody is with her class now,’ she said to me. ‘I’ll bring her up later.’

‘Is that all right with you?’ Mrs Farnham asked the IRO, checking procedure.

‘Yes. I think at her age she can come into her review towards the end when we’ve finished talking.’

The door opened again and Nina, the Guardian, came in. She said, ‘Good afternoon,’ then crossed to the two-seater sofa that had remained empty. ‘Am I all right to sit here? You’re not saving it for anyone?’

‘No, not at all,’ the IRO said.

Neave now entered with a young man I guessed to be in his mid-twenties. She said hello and he smiled a little self-consciously – I wondered if he was a trainee. She sat next to Nina, while he took a free chair on the other side of the circle. Everyone had a folder or notepad with them, including me. It was now 2.30 p.m. and the IRO asked if we were expecting anyone else.

‘I don’t think so,’ Neave said. ‘Amanda, Melody’s mother, won’t be coming. She’s still in hospital.’

‘Let’s begin then,’ the IRO said, and he opened the meeting by thanking us for coming. ‘This is Melody’s first review,’ he said. ‘Can we start by introducing ourselves?’ He gave his name and role, and we then went round the circle giving our names and roles. I learned that the young man who’d come in with Neave, Gareth, was a student social worker on his final work placement. There were eight of us, so it was a medium-sized review. The number attending a review varies depending on factors including the complexity of the case. As is usual at reviews, the foster carer – with up-to-date information on the child – was asked to speak first. I drew myself more upright in my chair and glanced at the sheet of paper I held on my lap. I began by saying that Melody had settled in and was eating and sleeping well, and had reasonably good self-care skills, although she needed reminding to wash and brush her teeth sometimes. I said she’d arrived quite dirty and with head lice, but I’d treated those straight away, and that I’d seen none of the aggression mentioned in the referral.

‘So you wouldn’t describe Melody’s behaviour as challenging?’ the IRO asked.

‘No. She was obviously upset at being parted from her mother, but generally she’s settled in well.’ He nodded and made a note. I then spoke a little about Melody’s routine and what she liked to do in her spare time.

‘Does she attend any clubs outside school?’ the IRO asked, looking up from the notes he was taking.

‘Not yet, but I’m hoping she will do soon. I’m trying to find out what she’s interested in.’ Children in care are expected to have the same opportunities as the average child; sometimes they have many more.

‘I’ll put that as a target then,’ he said. Reviews like targets.

‘On that subject,’ I said, ‘Melody has swimming lessons at school and I would like to take her swimming sometimes at the weekends and during the school holidays. I understand from Melody that her mother is very anxious about her drowning and wouldn’t be happy if I took her, so I haven’t yet. Can I have permission to do so?’

The IRO looked at Neave as he spoke. ‘I think that’s reasonable, don’t you? We can give permission. Melody is on a care order and her mother has been sectioned.’

‘Yes,’ Neave said. ‘I agree.’

‘You’ll obviously supervise her,’ the IRO said to me.

‘Yes, and she’ll be wearing armbands as she does at school.’

‘Good.’ He made a note.

‘I took her for the medical,’ I continued. ‘All was well. A copy of the paediatrician’s report has gone to the social services. I also took her to the dentist and optician.’ I gave the results.

‘Has she had the fillings now?’ the IRO asked.

‘Not yet,’ I said and hesitated. This was awkward. ‘I’m waiting for the permission slip to be returned.’ I looked at Neave.

‘Sorry, it’s on my desk,’ she said. ‘I’ll let you have it back ASAP.’ It’s usually parents who sign their children’s permission slips, but children in care proceedings generally need them to be signed by their social worker.

The IRO nodded, made a note and looked to me to continue. I glanced at my notes. ‘Melody had missed a lot of school before coming into care and is a long way behind. I’m working closely with Miss May, her TA, to try to help her catch up. We do a bit of extra work each evening.’

‘And Melody is happy to do schoolwork in the evening, rather than playing or watching television?’ the IRO asked.

‘Yes, a little,’ I said. ‘Her mother told her she needs to do well at school and pass her exams to get a good job. She’s remembered it.’

‘Good,’ the IRO said. ‘That’s positive. And what about contact with her mother? I understand it’s been suspended. How does Melody feel about that?’

‘She misses her mother a lot. They were very close. Melody helped her mother and now worries about her. My feeling is she needs to see her mother soon. I understand we are waiting for a report from the hospital.’

‘Yes, I’ll be covering that,’ Neave said.

I glanced at my notes again. ‘I think that’s everything,’ I said.

‘And you’re aware of the care plan?’ the IRO asked me.

‘Yes.’

He now turned to Neave. She opened the file on her lap and began by giving the background to the case and the reasons for bringing Melody into care – neglect, non-attendance at school and being left home alone. As I already knew, this had been building for years, and despite support being put in the situation at home had deteriorated. Neave gave the date Melody had been brought into care and also when Amanda had been sectioned. She confirmed that Melody was in care under an Interim Care Order and that the social services were applying for a Full Care Order with a final court hearing date in November.

‘And the mother’s medical condition?’ the IRO asked.

Neave nodded. ‘She has been diagnosed with clinical depression, acute anxiety and dementia. The former is largely a result of the dementia. Alzheimer’s has been mentioned and I’m waiting to speak to the consultant. When she was first admitted it was thought that her confusion and aggression could be a result of still using drugs, but that’s been ruled out now. She hasn’t had access to drugs or alcohol since she’s been in hospital and her condition hasn’t improved. The most likely diagnosis is dementia brought on by years of substance misuse. Apparently, those using for prolonged periods are three times more likely to suffer brain damage than those who don’t use drugs.’ She paused to let the message sink in.

‘So is there likely to be any improvement in her condition?’ the IRO asked, looking up from writing.

Neave shook her head. ‘I’ll have a better idea of the prognosis once I’ve met with the consultant, but Amanda is likely to need long-term care. They are already looking for a care home that can manage her dementia. She will have to leave the hospital where she is, now the assessment is complete.’

There was another moment’s silence as the full impact of what Neave had said hit us.

‘So there is no chance of Amanda ever going home?’ Nina, the Guardian, asked.

‘No. The assessment has shown she needs help with even the basics, like washing and dressing herself. Her mood swings and aggression have to be managed too. She could only be discharged home if there was a relative willing and able to look after her, and there isn’t.’