Buch lesen: «The Silent Cry: Part 1 of 3: There is little Kim can do as her mother's mental health spirals out of control»

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter One: A Funny Turn

Chapter Two: Very Concerned

Chapter Three: Lullaby at Bedtime

Chapter Four: Shelley

Chapter Five: A Very Strange Phone Call

Chapter Six: Useless

Chapter Seven: Upset

Chapter Eight: A Playmate?

Chapter Nine: Samson

Moving Memoirs eNewsletter

About the Publisher

Acknowledgements

A big thank you to my family; my editors, Carolyn and Holly; my literary agent, Andrew; my UK publishers HarperCollins, and my overseas publishers who are now too numerous to list by name. Last, but definitely not least, a big thank you to my readers for your unfailing support and kind words.

Prologue

The room is dark, although it’s daylight outside. Strangely dark and eerily quiet. Not a sound when there should be noise. Crying and screaming, that’s what she was expecting to hear. And the room seems smaller now too, as though the walls are gradually closing in and crushing her, crushing her to death.

She sits huddled at one end of the sofa, too scared to look around. Scared of what she might see in this unnaturally dark and quiet room that is threatening to squeeze the air out of her and squash her to nothing. Scared, too, of what lies ahead if she stands and goes to the telephone to make that call, and tells them what she’s done. They will come and take her baby for sure if she tells them that she has given birth to the devil.

Chapter One
A Funny Turn

Everyone loves a newborn baby and wants a little look. Even those who protest that they are not ‘baby lovers’ can’t resist a peep at the miracle of a new life. I joined the other mothers grouped around the pram in the school playground as we waited with our children for the start of school.

‘Congratulations, he’s gorgeous,’ I said, adding my own best wishes to the many others.

‘Thank you,’ Laura (the new mum) said quietly, a little bemused by all the attention.

‘How old is he now?’ I asked.

‘Two weeks.’

‘Aah, he’s adorable.’

‘Make the most of every moment,’ another mother said. ‘They grow up far too quickly.’

My own daughter, Paula, aged thirteen months, was sitting in the stroller and wanted to have a look too, so I unclipped the safety harness and lifted her out so she could see into the pram.

‘Baby,’ she said cutely, pointing.

‘Yes, that’s baby Liam,’ I said.

‘Baby Liam,’ she repeated with a little chuckle.

‘You were that small once,’ I said, and she chuckled again.

‘He’s my baby brother,’ Kim, Laura’s daughter, said proudly.

‘I know. Aren’t you a lucky girl?’ I said to her, returning Paula to her stroller.

Kim nodded and touched her baby brother’s face protectively, then planted a delicate little kiss on his cheek.

The family had moved into the street where I lived about a year before. Laura and I had got to know each other a little from seeing each other on the way to and from school. My son Adrian, aged five, attended this school but was in a different year to Kim, who was seven. Living quite close to each other I kept meaning to invite Laura in for a coffee and develop our friendship, but I hadn’t found the opportunity, what with looking after my own family, fostering and studying for a degree part-time. I guessed Laura had been busy too, especially now she had a baby.

Amid all the oohings and aahings over little Liam the Klaxon sounded the start of school and parents began saying goodbye to their children.

‘Bye, love,’ I said to Adrian, giving him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Have a good day. Make sure you eat your lunch, and have a drink.’ He’d only been in school a year and I still fussed over him.

‘Bye, Mum. Bye, Paula,’ he said, and ran over to join his class who were lining up, ready to go in.

‘Bye, little Liam,’ Kim said, leaning into the pram again to give her brother one last kiss. She clearly didn’t want to leave him. ‘See you later. Be a good boy for Mummy.’ I smiled.

‘Cathy,’ Laura said suddenly, clutching my arm. ‘I feel a bit hot. I’m going to get a drink of water. Could you stay with the pram, please?’

She turned and walked quickly towards the water fountain situated in an alcove at the far end of the building. Kim looked at me anxiously.

‘Don’t worry, love. I’ll make sure your mum is all right. You go into school.’

She hesitated, but then ran over to join her class, who were going in. I could see Laura at the fountain, leaning forward and sipping the cool water. I thought I should go over in case she was feeling faint. She’d only given birth two weeks before and I could remember how I’d sometimes suddenly felt hot and dizzy in the first few weeks after having both of my children. Pushing Paula’s stroller with my right hand and Liam’s pram with my left, I steered them across the playground to the water fountain. ‘Are you OK?’ I asked Laura as we approached.

‘Oh, yes, thank you,’ she said, straightening and wiping her mouth on a tissue. ‘I came over a bit funny. I’m all right now.’

I thought she looked pale. ‘Why don’t you sit down for a while? The children are going in.’ There were a couple of benches in the playground that the children used at playtime.

‘No, I’m all right, honestly. I just felt a bit hot and panicky. I think it was all the attention, and it is warm today.’

‘Yes, it is warm for May,’ I agreed. ‘But make sure you don’t overdo it.’

She tucked the tissue into her pocket and shook her hair from her face. ‘My husband and mother-in-law said it was too soon for me to be out and about. I guess they were right. But I was getting cabin fever staying at home all the time. I needed a change of scenery.’ She put her hands onto the pram handle ready for the off.

‘Are you going straight home?’ I asked. ‘I’ll walk with you.’

‘Yes, but there’s no need. I’ll be fine.’

‘I’d like to,’ I said. ‘I walk by your house on the way to mine.’

‘All right. Thanks.’ She flicked her hair from her face again and we began across the playground to the main gate. Laura was a tall, attractive woman, whom I guessed to be in her mid-thirties, and she was very slim despite recently giving birth. She had naturally wavy, shoulder-length brown hair, which was swept away from her forehead.

‘Is Liam sleeping and feeding well?’ I asked, making conversation as we walked.

‘Baby,’ Paula repeated, pointing to his pram travelling along beside her.

‘Yes, that’s right,’ I said to her. ‘Baby Liam.’

‘I’m up every three hours at night feeding him,’ Laura said. ‘But you expect that with a newborn, don’t you?’

I nodded. ‘It’s very tiring. I remember craving sleep in the first few months. If someone had offered me a night out at a top-class restaurant or seven hours unbroken sleep, I would have gone for the latter without a doubt.’

‘Agreed,’ Laura said with a small smile.

We were silent for a few moments as we concentrated on crossing the road, and then we turned the corner and began up our street. ‘How do you like living here?’ I asked, resuming conversation.

‘Fine. It’s nearer Andy’s – my husband’s – job, and his family. My mother-in-law only lives five streets away.’

‘Is that the lady I’ve seen in the playground, collecting Kim from school?’ I asked out of interest.

‘Yes. Geraldine. She’s very helpful. I don’t know what I’d do without her.’

‘It’s good to have help,’ I said. ‘My parents help me out when they can, but they live an hour’s drive away, and my husband’s family are even further away.’

‘Yes,’ Laura said, looking thoughtful. ‘My mother lives over a hundred miles away. You foster, don’t you?’

‘I do, although I’m taking a few months off at present to finish my degree. After our last foster child left my husband accepted a contract to work abroad for three months, so it seemed a good opportunity to study. The social services know I’m available for an emergency or for respite care, but I’m hoping I won’t be disturbed too often.’

‘What’s respite?’ Laura asked, interested.

‘It’s when a foster carer looks after a child for a short period to give the parents or another foster carer a break. It might just be for a weekend or a week or two, but then the child returns home or to their permanent carer.’

‘I see. It’s good of you to foster.’

‘Not really. I enjoy it. But I must admit I’ve been struggling recently to study and foster, with Paula being so little. Hopefully I’ll now have the chance to complete my dissertation.’

‘What are you studying?’

‘Education and psychology.’

She nodded. We’d now arrived outside her house, number 53, and Laura pushed open the gate. ‘Well, it’s been nice talking to you. Cathy, isn’t it?’

‘Yes – sorry, I should have said.’

‘Thanks again for helping me out in the playground. I hope I haven’t kept you.’

‘Not at all. If ever you want me to collect Kim from school or take her, do let me know. I’m there every day with Adrian.’

‘Thanks, that’s kind of you, but Geraldine, my mother-in-law, always does it if I can’t.’

‘OK. But if she can’t at any time you know where I am. And perhaps you’d like to pop in for a coffee one day when you’re free.’

She looked slightly surprised. ‘Oh, I see. That’s nice, but I expect you’re very busy.’

‘Never too busy for a coffee and a chat,’ I said with a smile. ‘I’ll give you my telephone number.’ I began delving into my bag for a pen and paper.

‘Can you give it to me another time?’ Laura said, appearing rather anxious. She began up her garden path, clearly eager to be away. ‘Sorry, but I’m dying to go to the bathroom!’ she called.

‘Yes, of course. I’ll see you later in the playground. I can give it to you then.’

‘Geraldine will probably be there,’ she returned, with her back to me, and quickly unlocking the door. ‘Push it through my letterbox.’

‘OK. Bye then.’

‘Bye!’ she called, and going in closed the front door.

‘Baby Liam,’ Paula said, pointing to the house.

‘Yes, that’s where he lives,’ I said.

‘Out!’ Paula now demanded, raising her arms to be lifted out of the stroller.

‘Yes, you can walk, but remember you always hold my hand.’

I undid the safety harness, helped her out and took her little hand in mine. ‘We always hold hands by the road,’ I reminded her. I didn’t use walking reins but insisted she held my hand.

‘Baby Liam,’ Paula said again, looking at his house.

‘Yes, that’s right.’ I glanced over. A woman, whom I now knew to be Laura’s mother-in-law, Geraldine, was looking out of the downstairs window. I smiled and gave a little wave, but she couldn’t have seen me for she turned and disappeared into the room.

‘Home,’ Paula said.

‘Yes, we’re going home now.’

We continued haltingly up the street with Paula stopping every few steps to examine something that caught her interest, including most garden gates, walls, fences, lampposts, fallen leaves, every tree in the street and most of the paving slabs. But I knew that the exercise would tire her out and that once home, after she’d had a drink and a snack, she’d have at least an hour’s sleep, which would give me the chance to continue researching and writing my dissertation: ‘The psychological impact being in care has on a child and how it affects their educational outcome.’

That afternoon, before I set off to collect Adrian from school, I wrote my telephone number on a piece of paper and tucked it into my pocket ready to give to Laura. She wasn’t in the playground and for a while it appeared that no one had come to collect Kim, for I couldn’t see Geraldine either. The Klaxon sounded for the end of school and the children began to file out, and then Geraldine rushed into the playground at the last minute and went over to Kim. Adrian arrived at my side very excited because his class was going on an outing. He handed me a printed sheet with the details of the outing and a consent form, and I carefully tucked it into my bag. I looked around for Geraldine, but she’d already gone. We joined the other parents and children filing out of the main gate and then crossed the road. As we turned the corner into our street I could see Kim and her grandmother a little way ahead. Kim turned and gave a small wave. We waved back. I was half-expecting Geraldine to turn and acknowledge us, or maybe even wait for us to catch up and fall into conversation, but she didn’t. She kept on walking until they arrived at number 53, where she opened the garden gate and began up the path. As we drew level she was opening the front door.

‘Excuse me!’ I called. She turned. ‘Could you give this to Laura, please?’ I held out the piece of paper. ‘It’s my telephone number. I said I’d let her have it. Is she all right now?’

Geraldine nodded, straight-faced, and tapped Kim on the shoulder as a signal for her to collect the paper.

Kim ran down the path and smiled at me as she took the paper. ‘Thank you,’ she said politely.

‘Say hi to your mum,’ I said.

‘I will.’

With another smile she ran back up the path to her grandmother, who’d now opened the front door and was waiting just inside, ready to close it. I smiled at her but she didn’t return the gesture, and as soon as Kim was inside she closed the door. With her short grey hair and unsmiling features Geraldine came across as stern. I was slightly surprised by her coldness, and it crossed my mind that she’d very likely seen me that morning through the front-room window and, for whatever reason, had chosen to ignore me.

Chapter Two
Very Concerned

I saw Geraldine in the playground every day for the rest of that week – in the morning when she took Kim to school, and in the afternoon when she collected her – but she didn’t acknowledge me or make any attempt to start a conversation. Neither did she have anything to do with any of the other parents waiting in the playground, which was unusual. It was a relatively small school, and friendly, so that eventually most people started chatting to someone as they waited for their children. But Geraldine didn’t; she hurried into the playground at the last moment and out again, aloof and stern-looking. By Friday, when Laura still hadn’t reappeared, I began to wonder if she was ill. She’d had a funny turn earlier in the week, on her first outing with Liam – perhaps she’d been sickening for something and was really poorly. Although Geraldine apparently didn’t want anything to do with me, Laura hadn’t been so hostile, and given that we lived in the same street and our children attended the same school I felt it would be neighbourly of me to ask how she was. If you are feeling unwell and someone asks after you it can be a real pick-me-up. So on Friday afternoon when Geraldine collected Kim from school I intercepted her as she hurried out of the playground.

‘I was wondering how Laura was,’ I said. ‘I’m Cathy. I live in the same street.’

‘Yes, I know who you are,’ she said stiffly. ‘Laura is fine, thank you. Why do you ask?’ Which seemed an odd question.

‘When I last saw Laura she wasn’t feeling so good. She came over a bit hot and wobbly. I wondered if she was all right now.’

‘Oh, that. It was nothing,’ Geraldine said dismissively. ‘It was far too soon for her to be going out and she realizes that now.’

I gave a small nod. ‘As long as she’s not ill.’

‘No, of course not,’ she said bluntly.

‘Good. Well, if she ever fancies a change of scenery and a coffee, she knows where I live.’

‘Oh, she won’t be up to that for a long while,’ Geraldine said tartly. ‘I’ve told her she’s not to go out for at least another four weeks, possibly longer. That’s the advice we had after giving birth.’ Taking Kim by the arm, she headed off.

Not go out for another four weeks! You could have knocked me down with a feather. Wherever had she got that from? It was nearly three weeks since Laura had given birth and as far as I knew there was no medical advice that said a new mother had to wait seven weeks before going out, unless Geraldine was confusing it with postpartum sex, but even then seven weeks was excessive if the birth had been normal. More likely, I thought, Geraldine was suffering from empty-nest syndrome and she liked being the centre of the family and having Laura rely on her. It would make her feel needed, and if that suited Laura, fine. It was none of my business. I’d been reassured that Laura wasn’t ill, and I had my family to look after and work to do.

It was the weekend and the weather was glorious, so Adrian, Paula and I spent most of Saturday in the garden, where the children played while I read and then did some gardening. On Sunday my parents came for the day and after lunch we were in the garden again. In the evening after they’d gone, my husband, John, telephoned from America where he was working. He’d got into the habit of telephoning on a Sunday evening when it was lunchtime where he was. We all took turns to speak to him and tell him our news. Even little Paula ‘spoke’ to him, although she was bemused by the workings of the telephone and kept examining the handset, trying to work out where the voice was coming from, rather than holding it to her ear.

On Monday the school week began again, and as the weather was fine we walked to and from school. I only used my car for school if it was raining hard or if I had to go somewhere straight after school. Geraldine continued to take Kim to school and collect her, and continued to ignore me and all the other parents. Perhaps she was just shy, I thought, although she had a standoffish, austere look about her. Each time I passed Laura’s house, number 53, which was four times a day (on the way to and from school), I glanced over. But there was never any sign of Laura or baby Liam, so I assumed Laura was making the most of having Geraldine in charge and was relaxing indoors or in the back garden. Sometimes Paula pointed to the house and, remembering that Liam lived there, said, ‘Baby.’ If she was out of her stroller and walking, she tried the gate – and most of the others in the street!

On Thursday afternoon, once we’d returned home from school, we hadn’t been in long when the telephone rang. It was a social worker asking if I could do some respite and look after a little boy, Darrel, aged three, for that night and all day Friday. His mother, Shelley, a young, single parent, had to go into hospital as a day patient and the person who was supposed to have been looking after Darrel had let her down at the last minute. She had no one else she could ask at such short notice, and I said I’d be happy to help and look after Darrel.

‘Shelley’s a young mum but she’s a good one,’ the social worker said. ‘She’ll bring Darrel to you at about six o’clock this evening. She said she’d bring everything he needs, but she’s fretting that she’s run out of meatless sausages. She’s a vegetarian and she’s bringing up Darrel the same. Apparently he loves meatless sausages for lunch, but she hasn’t got time to go into town and buy more. I’ve told her you’ll be able to cook him something else vegetarian.’

‘Yes, of course I will, but tell her I’ll see if I can get some of the sausages. If she’s not bringing Darrel until six, I’ve got time to pop down to our local supermarket. I’m sure I’ve seen some there.’

‘Oh, you are good. I’ll tell her. It’s the first time Darrel has been away from her overnight and she’s getting herself into a bit of a state. It’s understandable.’

‘Yes,’ I agreed.

‘She has to be at the hospital at eight o’clock tomorrow morning and she should be discharged later that afternoon. If she does have to stay overnight or doesn’t feel up to collecting Darrel on Friday evening can he stay with you for a second night?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Thank you. I’ll phone Shelley now and reassure her, and give her your contact details.’

‘I’ll see her about six then.’ We said goodbye and I hung up. I hadn’t been told what was wrong with Shelley and I didn’t need to know. But I could appreciate why she was anxious at being separated from her son and was fretting because he would miss his favourite food. I’d seen the meatless sausages in the freezer cabinet at the supermarket a few weeks before when I’d been looking for something else. I just hoped they’d still have some in stock. But it’s strange the way things work out sometimes, as if it’s meant to be, for had I not offered to go to the supermarket I would probably have remained ignorant of what was really going on in Laura’s house.

‘Sorry,’ I said to Adrian and Paula. ‘We’ve got to pop down to the shop.’

Adrian pulled a face. ‘We’ve only just got in and I wanted to play in the garden.’

‘You can play as soon as we return,’ I said. ‘We won’t be long. We’re looking after a little boy tonight and he likes a special type of sausage. I want to see if I can buy some.’

Adrian was growing up with fostering, as was Paula, so it didn’t surprise him that a child could suddenly appear and join our family. It was when they left that he didn’t like it. Neither did I, but as a foster carer you have to learn to accept that the children leave you, and you take comfort from knowing you’ve done your best to help the child and their family, and then be ready for the next child.

‘Can I have an ice cream from the shop then?’ Adrian asked cannily.

Usually the answer would have been, ‘No, not before your dinner,’ but given that he was having to come out again and go shopping rather than playing in the garden, I thought a little reward was in order.

‘Yes, a small one that won’t spoil your dinner,’ I said.

‘Yippee, ice cream!’ Adrian said.

‘Ice cream,’ Paula repeated.

‘Yes, you can have one too.’

As Adrian put on his trainers I fitted Paula’s shoes and then lifted her into the stroller, which I kept in the hall.

The local supermarket was at the bottom of my street, to the right, on the same road as the school. While it wasn’t suitable for a big shop it was very useful for topping up, and I often popped in if we were running short on essentials. If they didn’t have the sausages in stock I would tell Shelley I’d tried and then ask her what else Darrel liked to eat. I was sure I’d be able to find something else he liked. Although he was only staying with me for a day or so, it was important the experience was a good one for him and his mother, and that included meeting his needs and accommodating his likes and dislikes where possible. I would also ask Shelley about Darrel’s routine, and I’d keep to it as much as possible to minimize the disruption to him. Even so, despite everything I was going to do, he was still likely to be upset – a three-year-old left with strangers. Had this not been an emergency respite placement he could have come for a visit beforehand to meet us, so it wouldn’t be so strange for him.

As we walked down the street Adrian asked, ‘Will Darrel go to my school?’

‘No, he’s not old enough for school yet,’ I said.

‘Oh, yes, of course,’ Adrian said, with an embarrassed grin. ‘I knew that really. I am a muppet.’

‘Muppet,’ Paula repeated.

‘You’re a muppet,’ Adrian said, teasing his sister and ruffling her hair.

‘Muppet,’ she said again, giggling.

‘You’re a muppet,’ Adrian said again. And so we continued down the street with the word ‘muppet’ bouncing good-humouredly back and forth between the two of them.

‘So how do we cross the road safely?’ I asked Adrian as we arrived at the pavement edge.

‘Think, stop, look and listen, and when it’s all clear walk, don’t run, across the road,’ he said, paraphrasing the safety code that they’d been taught at school.

‘Good boy.’

We waited for the cars to pass and then crossed the road and went into the supermarket. I took a shopping basket and we went straight to the freezer cabinet. To my relief they had three packets of meatless sausages; I took one and placed it in the basket. Adrian then spent some time selecting ice creams for him and Paula and put those in the basket too. Paula reached out and began whining, wanting her ice cream straight away. ‘I have to pay for it first and take off the wrapper,’ I said.

We headed for the checkout. As we turned the corner of the aisle we saw Kim with a shopping basket on her arm, looking at a display of biscuits. ‘Hello, love,’ I said. ‘Are you helping your mum?’

‘Yes,’ she said, a little self-consciously. I glanced around for Laura but couldn’t see her. ‘Where is she?’ I asked her. ‘I’ll say hello.’

‘She’s at home,’ Kim said.

‘Oh, OK. Tell her I said hi, please.’

Kim smiled and gave a small nod.

I wasn’t going in search of her grandmother, whom I assumed was in one of the other aisles, to say hello, so we continued to the checkout. There was a woman in front of us and as we waited another joined the small queue behind us. Then, as we stepped forward for our turn, I saw Kim join the queue. The cashier rang up our items and placed them in a carrier bag, which I hung on the stroller. I paid and before we left I looked again at Kim and smiled – she was still waiting in the queue, without her grandmother.

Outside the shop I parked the stroller out of the way of the main door and gave Adrian his ice cream, and then removed the wrapper from Paula’s. I glanced through the glass shopfront and saw that Kim was now at the till. ‘Surely Kim isn’t here alone?’ I said out loud, voicing my concerns.

Adrian shrugged, more interested in his ice cream.

I threw the wrappers in the bin but didn’t immediately start for home.

‘Can we go now?’ Adrian asked impatiently. ‘I want to play in the garden.’

‘Yes, in a minute.’

I watched as Kim packed and paid for her shopping and then came out. ‘Are you here alone?’ I asked her.

She gave a small, furtive nod, almost as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

‘We can walk back together,’ I suggested.

She gave another small nod and we crossed the pavement and waited on the kerb. I was surprised and concerned that Kim was by herself. She was only seven, and while there is no law that states a child of seven shouldn’t go out alone I thought it was far too young. She wasn’t in sight of her house, she was by herself and she’d had to cross quite a busy road. A foster child certainly wouldn’t have been allowed to make this journey alone at her age, and neither would I have allowed my own children to do so.

‘Is your mother all right?’ I asked Kim as we began up our street. I wondered if there had been an emergency, which had necessitated Kim having to buy some items.

‘Yes, thank you,’ she said politely.

‘Where’s your gran?’ I asked, trying not to sound as though I was questioning her.

‘At her house,’ Kim replied.

‘And you’ve been doing some shopping for your mother?’ She nodded. ‘Do you often do the shopping?’ I asked after a moment, for she appeared quite confident in her role.

‘Yes, sometimes, since Mum had Liam.’

‘Does your gran not do the shopping then?’

‘Sometimes, but Mum doesn’t always like the things Gran buys.’

So why not ask her to buy the things she does like? I thought but didn’t say.

‘And your mum didn’t want to walk down with you?’ I asked as we walked.

‘She’s got a bad headache. She’s in bed, and Dad won’t be home until later.’

‘Oh dear.’ I could see Kim looking enviously at Adrian’s and Paula’s ice creams and I wished I’d thought to buy her one. ‘So who’s looking after Liam?’ I asked.