Will You Love Me?: The story of my adopted daughter Lucy

Maggie looked at Bonnie as she perched awkwardly on the edge of the sofa. ‘Relax, girl. You can tell me later what’s been going on. First, we need to get this little one fed and bathed. Is she ill? I can smell sick.’

‘She was sick, but I gave her medicine from the chemist.’

‘You didn’t take her to a doctor?’

‘No. She stopped being sick.’

‘So what does she eat?’ Maggie now asked, taking the empty milk-stained feeding bottle from the Moses basket.

‘Milk, yoghurt and anything soft I have,’ Bonnie said.

Maggie didn’t voice her thoughts. ‘OK, let’s start her with a bottle of milk first and then we’ll bath her. Then, once she’s more comfortable we’ll give her some dinner. We’ll also need to wash her clothes and the covers from the basket.’

‘I have some clean clothes for her in my bag,’ Bonnie said, grateful that Maggie knew what to do to help them.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs and the children reappeared, with a teenage girl dressed fashionably in leggings and a long jersey top. She looked at Bonnie and then at Lucy in her mother’s arms.

‘Liza, this is Bonnie,’ Maggie said. ‘My sister’s girl, your cousin. I need you to help me with dinner while I get this little one sorted out.’

Bonnie thought she saw the faintest flash of resentment cross Liza’s face as she gave a small nod and then left the front room to go into the kitchen.

‘You hold your baby while I fix her a bottle,’ Maggie said to Bonnie, placing Lucy in her arms. She took the bottle, which was in need of a good wash, and disappeared into the kitchen, while the two younger children stayed, staring quizzically at Bonnie.

‘Are you going to sleep here?’ the boy asked after a moment.

Bonnie shrugged. ‘I dunno.’

‘Haven’t you got a home?’ the girl asked.

Bonnie shook her head and concentrated on Lucy, who was sucking hard on her fist.

‘How come?’ the boy asked. ‘How come you haven’t got a home and a mum and dad?’

‘I just haven’t. That’s all,’ Bonnie said, niggled by their intrusive questions. She could hear muffled voices coming from the kitchen and hoped Maggie would reappear soon. These kids had so much confidence they frightened her. She felt safe with Maggie, and Lucy was going to start crying again soon and worry her further.

In the kitchen, Maggie was using boiling water and a bottle brush to thoroughly clean the bottle of congealed milk. ‘Little wonder the baby was sick,’ she said, scrubbing the rim of the bottle for the third time.

Milk was warming in a milk pan on the hob and Liza was keeping an eye on it while stirring the pan of food for dinner.

‘Is she staying?’ Liza asked, glancing at her mother.

‘She’ll have to tonight,’ Maggie said. ‘It’s late and cold. She can’t be out with a baby. They’ve nowhere else to go.’

‘You weren’t thinking of giving her Bett’s bed?’ Liza said, giving the spoon a sharp tap on the edge of the pan before setting it on the work surface.

‘Yes, just for tonight.’

Liza knew better than to complain; it was her mother’s decision to allow Bonnie to use her elder sister’s bed while she was away at university.

‘What about the baby?’ Liza asked. ‘Is she coming in my room too?’

‘She’ll have to until I get something else sorted out.’

Maggie poured the warmed milk into the clean bottle and took it into the living room where she left Bonnie to feed Lucy while she went upstairs to prepare the bedroom.

That evening, once Lucy was fed, dressed in clean clothes and asleep, and the family had eaten, Maggie had a long talk with Bonnie, from which it soon became clear that there was no point in phoning her sister as she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, help her daughter. So Maggie assumed the responsibility, although she made it clear from the outset that Bonnie staying was only temporary, until she could find something more suitable. The social services’ records show that Bonnie and Lucy stayed for two months and that Bonnie came to view this period as the best two months of her life – living in a loving family headed by a woman who actually cared for her.

Every evening when Leon, Maggie’s husband, came home from work they ate around a large circular table, with a spotlessly clean tablecloth and cutlery that gleamed. Dinner was a sociable event, with everyone talking and laughing, sharing their news and catching up on the day’s events – it was unlike anything Bonnie had experienced before. To begin with she felt uneasy and slightly intimidated by this noisy family and ate in silence, but gradually she began to relax and join in the conversation, although she never had that much to say. Leon did most of the talking and was a great storyteller. Bonnie loved to listen to him; to her, he was a proper dad and far removed from the men her mother had brought home. He was from a large Jamaican family and was used to accommodating members of the extended family, so he was relaxed about Bonnie and Lucy staying. He worked at the bus depot as a mechanic, servicing and repairing the council’s fleet of buses, while Maggie, primarily a homemaker, supplemented their income by working lunchtimes as a canteen supervisor at the local primary school. Liza soon forgot her grievances at having to share her room and happily traded in the lack of space and privacy for the novelty of helping to look after baby Lucy, who rarely cried at night now she was warm and fed. To Bonnie, her aunt’s family was the ideal family, like the ones you saw on television at Christmas, and she would have loved to have stayed for ever.

That first morning after Bonnie had arrived, Maggie insisted they take Lucy to the doctor’s for a check-up. She registered both Bonnie and Lucy at her doctor’s as temporary patients, living at her address. The doctor checked Lucy’s heart, chest and stomach; asked Bonnie a number of questions about the illness and if Lucy was up-to-date with her immunizations, to which Bonnie replied that she ‘thought so’. The doctor said he would check on the system and a card would be sent to her if there were any vaccinations outstanding. He also said Lucy’s sickness and diarrhoea was very likely ‘a bug’ and, as long as the vomiting and diarrhoea didn’t return, she would be fine and he needn’t see her again. While Bonnie was relieved that Lucy had been pronounced fit and well, she was concerned that her details were now on the system and that a health visitor might call.

‘Don’t worry, girl,’ Maggie told her, when Bonnie voiced her concerns. ‘Health visitors help mothers with their babies. It’s nothing for you to worry about. You’re not in any trouble.’ Although, of course, Maggie wasn’t aware of the shocking conditions Bonnie and Lucy had been living in prior to coming to her, nor that the social services had been alerted and that a social worker had called at the launderette and found her gone.

During Bonnie’s stay, Maggie looked after her as she would a daughter. She fed and clothed her, and gave her pocket money in exchange for her helping with the chores around the house as the other children did. She showed Bonnie how to cook basic meals, established a routine for Lucy and began to teach her how to play with her daughter to stimulate her – of which Bonnie had no idea. Maggie also began weaning Lucy properly – by introducing her to small nutritious meals, which she mashed down. Bonnie was happy to accept her aunt’s advice and Maggie formed the opinion that Bonnie was able to successfully parent Lucy, for as she said to Leon: ‘While Bonnie isn’t the sharpest pencil in the pencil case, she loves her baby and has an inbuilt survival kit.’

Staying at Maggie’s not only showed Bonnie what a proper family life was, but also gave her new skills. For the first time in her life Bonnie felt wanted rather than something that had to be tolerated – as she’d felt at her mother’s and later in her relationships with men. Realizing the gaping chasm between her life and that of her cousins, Bonnie grew increasingly angry with her mother, for not only had she failed to provide the basics, but she’d allowed her to be abused. She said so to Maggie and then one morning, when there was just the two of them at home, Bonnie asked Maggie if she could use the phone to call her mother, and Maggie agreed.

Maggie was in another room but she could hear Bonnie clearly as her voice quickly rose until she was shouting at her mother, ripping into her for all she had failed to do and blaming her for the abuse she’d suffered and the life she’d been forced into. Eventually Maggie stopped the call as Bonnie was nearly hysterical. She put the phone down and then held and comforted Bonnie until she was calmer. Late that night, when Bonnie was asleep, her mother phoned Maggie. Drunk and belligerent, she blamed Maggie for ‘putting ideas into Bonnie’s head’ and turning her against her. Maggie tried reasoning with her sister but without success, and eventually Leon took the phone from her and hung up.

Although Bonnie knew that living with Aunt Maggie and her family was only ever going to be temporary, and that Maggie was actively looking for suitable accommodation for her, it was still a shock when Maggie returned home from work one afternoon and announced that she’d found a small furnished self-contained flat just right for Bonnie and Lucy. It was only a mile away, Maggie said, and had a large bedroom big enough to take a bed and a cot, and a small kitchenette and bathroom. Furthermore, and unlike many of the other landlords Maggie had contacted, this one didn’t mind benefit claimants. Maggie explained to Bonnie that once she had a permanent address, and until she could find a job and sort out child-care arrangements, she could claim benefit to pay the rent and live on. Worried that the flat might go quickly, Maggie had paid the deposit and the first month’s rent. Bonnie thanked her, but Maggie could see she was sad at having to go and she felt guilty, even though she didn’t have the room to let Bonnie stay. Bett was due home from university for the Easter holiday and ultimately she would return to live at home when she had graduated, and Maggie’s two younger children already shared a bedroom.

Out of her own money Maggie bought a cot, bedding, a pushchair, a warm coat for Bonnie and the next size of baby clothes for Lucy, and filled the cupboards in the flat with food. Then she helped Bonnie move in and gave her fifty pounds to ‘see her over’ until her benefit money came through. Maggie felt she had done her best for Bonnie and, having made sure she and Lucy had everything they needed at the flat, she promised to phone and look in regularly, telling Bonnie to visit whenever she wanted and phone if she had any worries.

All went reasonably well for the first few weeks; Maggie visited twice a week, and although Bonnie’s flat was often untidy, Lucy appeared clean, comfortable and well fed. But then, over the next month, Maggie began to have concerns. Bonnie often wasn’t up when Maggie called on her way to work at the school, although it was 11.30 a.m. When Bonnie eventually answered the door she was often still in her nightwear and Lucy was still in her cot. Although Bonnie told Maggie that she’d been up early and had fed and changed Lucy, Maggie began to doubt this. Lucy’s nappy, her clothes and the cot bedding would be saturated, suggesting she hadn’t been changed for some time, possibly not since the night before, and she was always hungry. A couple of times, while Maggie waited for Bonnie to answer the door, she heard Lucy crying, very distressed, from inside. Then Maggie found that there wasn’t any food in the cupboards and only milk and yoghurt in the fridge, despite Bonnie now being in receipt of benefit.

‘What are you two living on?’ Maggie asked, concerned.

Bonnie became defensive; she shrugged and told Maggie she had to leave as she was going out soon.

Now very concerned, Maggie returned to Bonnie’s flat after work with a bag of groceries for them, but Bonnie refused to answer the door. Maggie knew she was in as she could hear Lucy crying, so she called through the letter box, but Bonnie still refused to come to the door. Eventually she left the bag of groceries on the doorstep and, wondering what she’d done wrong, returned home. That evening and the following day Maggie telephoned Bonnie many times but she didn’t pick up, neither did she return Maggie’s messages. Unable to understand what was going on, but very concerned for Bonnie’s and Lucy’s safety and wellbeing, she went to her doctor – the one she’d taken Bonnie and Lucy to when they’d first arrived. She explained her concerns and said that she wasn’t sure what to do for the best. The doctor said that while confidentiality forbade him to discuss Bonnie and Lucy with Maggie, he would ask the health visitor attached to the practice to visit them. When he checked their contact details he found that they were still registered as temporary patients at Maggie’s address, so Maggie gave him their new address, which he entered on the computer system. Two days later a health visitor called on Bonnie and Lucy and, having been allowed into the flat, subsequently alerted the social services.

Chapter Six

Neglect (#ulink_f1f17d76-fc8b-5d25-a38d-c8a75dae7989)

Doris was in her late thirties and an experienced social worker with two children of her own. She had a good working relationship with Bonnie’s health visitor, who was also a qualified nurse. Doris trusted her opinion, so that if she had concerns about a client and made a referral, it was acted on immediately. Doris had wanted to visit Bonnie and Lucy the day before, but with an emergency child-protection case conference in the morning and then having to place five siblings in foster homes in the afternoon, the day had disappeared. Now she was calling on Bonnie first thing the following morning. It was 9.30 a.m. when she rang the doorbell. Doris wasn’t expecting Bonnie to be up and dressed – not many of her clients were at this time – so she rang the bell a second time.

A minute later the door to the flat next door opened and an elderly lady poked her head out. ‘You the social?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ Doris said with a smile, wondering why it was so obvious.

‘Good. That baby’s been crying far too much for my liking, but the mother don’t talk to me,’ the neighbour said, and then disappeared back inside, closing the front door. Doris pressed the bell to Bonnie’s flat again, more determined than ever to gain entry. If the mother didn’t answer then she’d call back later, and if there was still no response she’d return with a court order and the police.

Giving the bell another push, Doris stooped so she was at eye-level with the letter box and peered in. Her view was blocked by a draught excluder, so she tried calling through the letter box: ‘Bonnie, love, are you in? My name’s Doris. I’m a social worker. Can we have a chat please, love? Nothing for you to worry about.’ Doris knew from experience that you didn’t go straight in talking about child-protection issues if you could help it. Sometimes it was unavoidable – if a child was in danger and had to be removed – but in cases like this it was likely that Bonnie could be helped with support and monitoring.

Straightening, Doris pressed the bell again and waited. A few moments later she heard the lock turn, and then the door opened. ‘Hello, love,’ she said, smiling. ‘Are you Bonnie?’

The young woman nodded. Dressed in a crumpled T-shirt and shorts, with her hair dishevelled, she’d clearly just stumbled out of bed. ‘What do you want?’ she asked defensively.