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

‘Not really. She tells me she misses her mother and often talks about what she is doing now with Cathy, but not much before then.’

The IRO asked her if she had anything else to say and then, thanking her, turned to Jill. ‘Would you like to add anything? Then we’ll ask Melody to join us.’ Gareth wouldn’t be asked to speak; as a student social worker he was there to observe and learn how reviews were conducted.

‘My role as Cathy’s supervising social worker is to monitor and support her in all aspects of her fostering,’ Jill began. ‘We are in regular contact and I visit her every month when we discuss the child she is fostering. Cathy is an experienced and dedicated foster carer and I know she will ask for help and advice if necessary. Melody has settled in well and I am satisfied that Cathy is providing a high level of care. I have no concerns and shall be seeing her and Melody again later this week.’ Which, like Neave’s proposed visit, was news to me.

The IRO thanked Jill and then asked if Melody could be brought into the meeting. Miss May left to fetch her. The bell rang, signalling the end of school, and Mrs Farnham asked if she could go as the Head wasn’t in school and she really needed to be in the playground as the children left.

‘Yes, you go,’ the IRO said. ‘Thank you for attending.’

She said goodbye and left. While we waited, the IRO looked through the booklets that Melody and I had filled in and Jill took out her diary and asked if she could visit on Thursday after school.

‘We’ll be back around four,’ I said. I made a note of the visit as Jill entered it in her diary.

‘I’ll come at the same time then on Friday,’ Neave said. I wrote this down too.

‘You’re popular,’ Nina quipped with a smile.

The door opened and Miss May came in with Melody, who looked shyly at me. ‘Hello, love, come and have a seat,’ I said. It must have taken a lot for her to come into the Head’s office and be faced with all those adults. She sat next to Miss May on the chair Mrs Farnham had vacated.

‘Thank you for joining us, Melody,’ the IRO said. ‘How are you?’

‘OK,’ she replied quietly.

‘What do you like doing at school?’ he asked.

‘Work that Miss May sets,’ she said in the same small voice.

‘What sort of work is that?’ he asked. Melody didn’t know. ‘Maths? Reading? Art?’ he prompted.

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘This meeting is about you,’ he continued, ‘to make sure you are receiving all the help you need at home and school. Can you think of anything you need here or at Cathy’s?’

Melody thought for a moment and shook her head.

‘So you’re happy at school and being well looked after at home with Cathy,’ he said as he wrote. ‘That’s good. I see from the review form you completed that you like having your own bedroom and playing with Cathy’s children.’

‘Yes,’ she said quietly.

‘Good. I’ve also read that you are sad because you are not seeing your mother at present. Your social worker, Neave, will arrange for you to see her in hospital shortly.’

‘When?’ Melody asked, suddenly losing her shyness and speaking out.

‘I should be able to tell you when I visit you on Friday,’ Neave said.

‘Is that OK?’ the IRO asked.

Melody nodded.

‘You also ask on your review form when your mother will come out of hospital. We’re not sure yet but Neave will talk to you about that too when she sees you. Is there anything else you’d like to ask the review?’

I thought Melody was going to shake her head shyly or say a small no as she had been doing, but, looking directly at the IRO, she said firmly, ‘I really do want to see my mummy. I know she’s being looked after in hospital, but I still want to see her very soon.’

The IRO smiled kindly. ‘Yes, I understand, and your social worker is going to arrange that. All right?’

She nodded.

The IRO then wound up the meeting by setting the date for the next review – in three months’ time – and thanked us all for coming. Having said goodbye, I left with Melody and Miss May to go down to the classroom to collect Melody’s school bag and coat.

‘So is my social worker going to tell me when I can see my mummy?’ Melody asked as we went.

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘when she visits us on Friday after school.’

‘That’s good then, isn’t it?’ Miss May said brightly. ‘No need for you to worry about that any more.’

Once we’d collected Melody’s belongings from the now-empty classroom, I took the opportunity to thank Miss May for all she was doing for Melody, then we said goodbye and Melody and I left the school. As I drove us home I casually asked Melody if she’d ever had to help her mother wash and dress when she was living with her.

‘I can’t remember,’ she said, unable to meet my gaze in the rear-view mirror. I let the matter go. Possibly Melody really couldn’t remember with all the other responsibilities she had at home, or maybe she remembered all too well, and wanted to forget. Or maybe she felt that admitting the extent to which she had helped her mother would be disloyal. It was feelings like this that she would be helped to address in therapy. So many children in care are burdened with guilt, shame and remorse.

Chapter Twelve

Four Sleeps (#u657ae5dc-bd35-535a-8fd4-553f59dccd97)

Social workers and supervising social workers usually visit the child in the foster carer’s home approximately every four to six weeks. Jill arrived as arranged after school on Thursday and spent time talking to Melody with me in the room before she went off to play. As well as updating Jill, her visit was to check that I was fostering to the required standard, to give support and advice as necessary, to discuss my training needs and finally to sign off my log notes. We spent some time talking about how I would prepare Melody for when she saw her mother in hospital – the details of which I should learn the following day when Neave visited us. ‘I just hope it goes ahead,’ I said. ‘Melody does need to see her mother.’

‘I know she does,’ Jill agreed.

On Friday Neave was late arriving and Melody’s anxiety grew. ‘If she doesn’t come I won’t know about seeing my mummy!’ she worried.

‘I’m sure Neave will be here soon,’ I said. ‘If not, I’ll phone her and find out what’s going on.’

‘That man at my review promised I’d see my mummy!’ Melody said.

‘I know, love.’

Neave finally arrived half an hour later and apologized – a previous meeting had overrun and then she’d got stuck in traffic. Social workers’ schedules are always stretched to the limit. I offered her a drink and she gratefully accepted a coffee.

‘I’ll talk to Melody while you’re making it,’ she said, hanging up her coat on the hall stand. It’s usual for the child’s social worker to spend some time alone with the child in case there is anything the child wants to raise that they don’t feel comfortable talking about in front of the carer. ‘Oh yes, and here’s the permission slip for the dental work Melody needs,’ she said, taking it from her bag.

‘Thank you. I’ll book the appointment for after school.’

She went into the living room with Melody while I made the coffee and set some biscuits on a plate. From the kitchen I could hear their voices but not what they were saying. However, when I went into the living room with Neave’s coffee, Melody said excitedly, ‘I’m seeing my mummy on Monday!’

‘That’s fantastic,’ I said. ‘In hospital?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

I looked at Neave. ‘Do you want some more time alone?’