The Silent Cry: There is little Kim can do as her mother's mental health spirals out of control

‘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