Cruel to Be Kind: Part 2 of 3: Saying no can save a child’s life

‘How far is the park? Caz said walking is bad for Max’s asthma. Did you take his inhaler with you?’

‘Yes, of course, I take it everywhere, but he didn’t need it. The only time he’s used it was when he first arrived with you. The park is about a ten-minute walk.’

‘I’ll tell Caz, but in future can you take him in the car if you go to the park so she doesn’t worry?’

‘Not to that park,’ I said. ‘There are only a few car-parking places.’

‘So take him to a park where there are more parking places.’ I sighed, and so too did Jo. She was stressed and doing everything she could to appease Caz, but it made a nonsense of what I was trying to do to help Max have a healthier lifestyle. ‘You’ve got a big back garden,’ she continued. ‘He can play in there, it’s just as good. And the other thing I have to mention is, can you buy him a bag of sweets to take to the hospital to share with his mother and sister? Apparently they all take in a bag and share them. Max hasn’t been able to join in.’

‘But he’s been eating their sweets,’ I said.

‘He wants to take in a bag of his own. Sharing sweets is like a little family ritual. He’s feeling left out.’

‘OK, if that’s what you want, but eating that number of sweets every evening goes against my instincts to help Max.’

‘It will make Caz happy,’ Jo said, as if that was the sole objective. ‘I’ll phone her and reassure her that in future you will keep to what Max is used to.’

‘And ignore the fact that obesity is ruining his childhood?’

‘That’s a bit dramatic.’

‘Is it? The poor child was in tears last night because of his size. He didn’t want to go to school on Friday because it’s sports day.’

‘I didn’t like sports day either, I never won anything,’ Jo said, missing the point.

‘But this wasn’t about winning or losing, it was about not wanting to participate because of his size.’

‘What did you say?’

‘That I’d speak to his teacher, which I have done just now. They like all the children to join in, but she’s reassured me that Max won’t have to do anything beyond him or compete by himself. They are all in house teams. She’s going to have a chat with him.’

‘Mrs Marshall is very good,’ Jo said. It was about the only thing we agreed on. ‘But please don’t say anything to Caz about his size. It will upset her.’

‘Of course I won’t. She hardly speaks to me.’

‘I need to go now and phone Caz. I’m tied up for the rest of the day. And by the way, I’ve had notice of Max’s medical. It’s this Thursday. There’s a letter in the post to you.’

‘All right, thank you.’

We said goodbye and I hung up.

Jo had clearly been very stressed and short of time, as many social workers are. She’d focused on placating Caz, rather than looking at the wider picture. She hadn’t even asked how Max was settling in and what sort of weekend he’d had as I’d expect the social worker to do. I didn’t agree with the way Jo was handling this – keeping Max’s mother happy at the expense of Max’s health – but as the foster carer I had to do as I was told by the child’s social worker. That is the bottom line, whether we agree with it or not.

On my way to collect Paula from nursery I stopped off at our local shop, where I bought a bag of mixed sweets for Max to take with him to the hospital that night. In a small act of defiance I also bought a bag of grapes. If I was being forced to contribute to Max’s family’s poor eating, I would also offer a healthy option. If they didn’t want the grapes, I’d bring them home again.

Chapter Ten

An Ally (#u522b79fa-f1f8-5188-8ba3-fcfe576a9fcb)

That afternoon Jill phoned to ask how the weekend had gone and I updated her, including that I had seen Max’s teacher on Friday, the hospital visits, Max playing in the tent, our trip to the park, Max’s concerns about sports day, and Jo’s call and the complaints from Caz. Had Jill not telephoned me I would have phoned her before the end of the day. Jill tutted when I told her of Jo’s response to the complaints, although I knew she was too professional to criticize another social worker.

‘At least Jo is dealing with the complaints, so they are unlikely to go any further,’ Jill pointed out. ‘I suppose she feels that as Max will only be with you for a short while, there’s no point in making big changes. It would be different if he was with you long term.’

‘Yes, I understand.’

‘But generally Max is settling in well?’ she asked.

‘Yes. Which was why I was surprised to receive these complaints.’

‘I doubt they’ve come from Max, but obviously don’t question him.’

‘No, I wouldn’t.’

‘You dealt with the matter of sports day well,’ Jill added. She always found something positive to say. ‘I’m sure he’ll feel he can go and participate once his teacher has spoken to him.’

‘Yes, I hope so.’

‘Has Caz got a discharge date yet?’

‘Not as far as I know, although when I gave Summer a lift home she said her mother was having to walk more in preparation for going home.’

‘I’ll ask Jo next time I speak to her, and well done. Thanks for all you are doing for Max. It’s much appreciated.’ And those few words of thanks were enough to lift my spirits and renew my confidence, allowing me to move forward and once again concentrate on doing my best for Max while he was with us, which is what fostering is all about.

That afternoon, when I collected Adrian from school, he handed me a letter that informed all parents that the children needed to stay late on Friday, as it was a full dress rehearsal for the school’s end-of-year show. Adrian was excited to be in the production – based on Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat – as were all the children. Adrian’s costume – an ancient Egyptian – was already in school, hanging on his peg, having been checked and okayed by his teacher. That Adrian had to stay late on Friday would help me, as Max’s sports day was the same afternoon and wasn’t due to finish until four o’clock. Paula and I would be watching, so it meant I would now have enough time to leave there and meet Adrian when his rehearsal finished.

When I collected Max from after-school club that afternoon I quietly asked him if Mrs Marshall had spoken to him about sports day. He nodded. ‘How do you feel about going now?’ I asked.

‘I think it will be a challenge, but one I can overcome,’ he said proudly.

‘Well done,’ I said, patting him on the shoulder. And well done, Mrs Marshall, I thought, for clearly these were her words and they seemed to have done the trick.

Before we left for the hospital that evening I handed Max the bag of sweets I’d bought. ‘Wow!’ he said, his eyes lighting up, as did Adrian’s and Paula’s.

‘They are for you to share with your mother and sisters,’ I said to Max. ‘And you two can have something in the café,’ I told Adrian and Paula so they wouldn’t feel left out.

‘Thank you. That is kind,’ Max said, looking at the bag and genuinely surprised.

Judging from his reaction, I thought (as Jill had done) that the request to bring in sweets hadn’t come from him but his mother. Caz could easily have asked me. Indeed, much of what she’d complained about to Jo she could have mentioned to me, rather than making an issue of it. I hoped that before long she would drop her hostility and start to try to interact with me – for Max’s sake. But when we arrived at the hospital that evening I realized it wasn’t going to be any time soon. Empowered by the complaints she’d made to Jo and having them acted on, she was ready with more. Upright on her pillows, surrounded by her entourage and clutching the bag of sweets Max had given to her, she glared at me. ‘You need to bring his inhaler in with him. It’s irresponsible not to. He’s got asthma.’

‘Absolutely,’ I agreed. ‘I take it everywhere with us.’ Opening my bag I took out the inhaler and placed it on the bed beside her. ‘I’ll leave it with you for safekeeping. And here’s a few grapes I thought you might all enjoy.’ I set the bag beside the inhaler.

‘Oh, I love grapes,’ Kelly said, immediately dipping her hand into the bag. Caz scowled at her as if she was letting down their side.

‘They’ve been washed,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you later. Have a nice evening.’ I turned and left. It was quiet as I walked away, no laughing, although I could feel Caz looking daggers at me.

Upstairs in the café Adrian and Paula chose a chocolate biscuit each to have with their drinks and we settled at our usual table, close to the play area.

‘Why doesn’t Max’s mother like you?’ Adrian asked. I guessed he’d read her body language, for I doubted he or Paula could have heard what she’d said from where they’d been waiting by the ward door.