Saving Danny (24 page)

‘It’s all right,’ I whispered to him, lightly rubbing his arm. ‘The advertisements are loud, but the film won’t be so loud.’ I don’t know why they make the advertisements in cinemas so loud – even I find them uncomfortable sometimes. ‘Put your hands over your ears while the advertisements are on,’ I suggested.

He did so, relaxed at little, and then removed them at the start of the film when a large gleaming image appeared of his favourite character, Thomas the Tank Engine, grinning broadly. I watched Danny’s reaction: his eyes rounded and his mouth dropped open, and for the rest of the film he was completely engrossed and enthralled. A few times, when Thomas was in danger and the action and drama intensified, Danny sat uncomfortably rigid, gripping the edge of his seat and grimacing, as though he too was experiencing Thomas’s plight. So I whispered to him that it was a film and that Thomas would be all right in the end, which helped him relax a little.

Danny was still completely absorbed in the film as the credits rolled, but as the lights went up and the audience began to leave and the noise level grew, he couldn’t cope. He covered his head with his hands and, dropping to the floor, curled into a ball and then tried to hide under his seat. I didn’t know what his expectation was of the end of the film but clearly I hadn’t explained it in enough detail. I apologized to those in the row trying to make their way out as they stepped over and around him. The cinema emptied quickly and as the hubbub died away I knelt down, talked to him quietly and was eventually able to persuade him to come out.

As we left I said to him, ‘If we come to the cinema again you’ll know what happens, so it won’t be scary.’

He didn’t reply.

‘Would you like to come to the cinema again?’ I asked.

‘Yes, thank you very much,’ he said and, turning, tried to lead me back into the cinema.

‘No, not now. We’ve seen that film,’ I explained. ‘Another time we can come and see a different film.’

‘Yes,’ he said, nodding enthusiastically. So I didn’t think the experience had been too traumatic for him. Next time I might even try him with some popcorn.

It was raining when we arrived home, so George came into the house for his walk. Lucy and Paula asked Danny if he’d had a nice time at the cinema and he nodded, now more interested in George. Adrian was out, having gone to see a friend. Paula and Lucy stayed with Danny and George while I began preparing dinner, but as usual they called for me to come when the dustpan and brush was required. I pointed out to Lucy that if she was really going into child care she’d be clearing up much worse mess than a few pellets, and perhaps she should start getting used to it now, but she wasn’t impressed.

When George tired and flopped out on the living-room floor Danny sat next to him. He took one of his Thomas the Tank Engine toys from his toy box and showed it to George, placing it in front of his nose. George sniffed it. Then Danny began telling him about his trip to the cinema: ‘It was dark … lots of people … Thomas goes fast … chuff-chuff … fast … Thomas going down the hill … fast … very fast …’ Danny’s voice rose as he described the part of the film where Thomas’s breaks had failed and he’d become a runaway train. This had been one of the scenes when I’d had to reassure Danny that Thomas would be safe.

‘It’s a film,’ Danny now told George. ‘Thomas safe. Not hurt.’ Which was what I’d told him, and again I was reminded that Danny understood and remembered far more than he could communicate.

The following day, Thursday, Danny saw his mother for the second additional holiday contact. It rained all afternoon and was still raining when Reva brought Danny home. Danny went straight through to see George as Reva called goodbye. As usual I asked Reva if she and Danny had had a nice time and she nodded, a little like Danny did. ‘He told me he went to the cinema,’ she said.

‘Yes?’ I was expecting a bit more detail, possibly what he’d told her, but it wasn’t forthcoming.

‘See you Saturday then,’ she said, and returned to her sports car, parked out the front, which had so impressed Adrian.

As it was raining George came into the house again, but I noticed Danny seemed subdued and also looked a little pale. I asked him if he was feeling all right and put my hand to his forehead, but he didn’t appear to have a temperature. George seemed to sense that Danny didn’t feel so good and after a quick run down the hall sat quietly on the living-room floor with his head resting in Danny’s lap. It was uncanny and touching the way George tuned into Danny’s feelings. It is said that animals can sense emotion and illness in their owners, and having seen George with Danny I believe it. I sat on the sofa watching them together while the dinner cooked; Danny quietly and lovingly stroking George’s head, George relaxed and with his eyes slowly closing. Then Danny began talking to George.

‘I love you,’ he said quietly. ‘You’re my best friend. And I’m your friend. We’ll always be friends.’ As usual Danny was more fluent when talking to George than he was with adults and other children. ‘Daddy says he loves me,’ he continued. ‘But I don’t think he does. He shouts at me when I get things wrong. He upsets Mummy and she shouts and cries. It makes me unhappy and gives me a tummy ache.’

I looked at Danny carefully as he continued to stroke George. Was that the reason he was pale and subdued? Because his parents had been arguing? ‘Did you see Daddy today?’ I asked lightly a few moments later.

Danny didn’t reply but concentrated on George.

‘Daddy shouts,’ he told George. ‘And Mummy cries. It’s because of me. It would have been better if I’d never been born. That’s what Daddy said. I have a brother and sister, but I’m not allowed to see them because I’m stupid. I wish I wasn’t stupid. If I was smart like the kids at school Mummy and Daddy would love me, and I could live with them and we’d all be happy.’

I was shocked and greatly saddened. Had Reva and Richard any idea that Danny had been listening to them and taking it all in? I doubted it, or surely they would have been more careful in what they said. I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t heard, and Danny needed to know he wasn’t to blame. I stood up, went over and sat on the floor beside him and George. Danny continued to stroke George and didn’t look up. George opened his eyes and looked at me, almost as if he too understood the significance of what Danny had told him.

‘Danny, love,’ I said gently, touching his hand. ‘You’re not stupid, don’t ever think that, please. Mummy and Daddy didn’t mean what they said. They were arguing, and when people argue they get angry. They shout and say things they don’t mean. All those wonderful patterns you can make. That shows how smart you are. I know you find it difficult sometimes to say what you mean, but Terri is going to get you some help for that. Mummy and Daddy love you lots. And they miss you. It’s not your fault they argue and Mummy cries. Parents are really just big children and they get it wrong sometimes. They would be very, very sorry if they knew you were upset. They love you.’

How much of this Danny took in was impossible to gauge, but I hoped he believed what I’d said. The poor child was carrying the burden of everything that was wrong in his family, believing he was stupid and his parents didn’t love him because of how he was. It was heartbreaking.

‘We’re not upset, are we?’ he said to George, trying to put on a brave face.

‘I would be if I’d heard those things said about me,’ I said. ‘Even if they weren’t true. We like to hear nice things about us. That’s makes us happy.’

Danny was quiet again, and then he stopped stroking George. Without looking at me, he asked, ‘Do you love me?’

‘Yes, I do,’ I said, without hesitation. ‘It’s a different kind of love to the one Mummy and Daddy feel, because they are your parents and they have cared for you and loved you for a long time. Since you were a baby. But I love you, and so do Paula, Lucy and Adrian.’ I believe we can never have too much love, and even if Danny returned to his parents and never saw us again, it would surely be positive for him to live his life knowing there were others in the world who loved him.

As if to reinforce what I’d said, Lucy bounded into the living room in very good spirits. ‘Hi, little fellow,’ she said, going over and ruffling his hair. ‘Good to have you home again. Missed you.’ And this time Danny didn’t recoil from her touch.

It was difficult writing up my log notes that evening, but I was duty bound to include what Danny had said. I wrote objectively and using the words he had spoken wherever appropriate. It wasn’t for me to comment on Reva and Richard’s behaviour, but without them realizing it their argument had emotionally abused Danny. Their comments about him had hurt him as much as, if not more than, any physical blow.

On Friday, continuing with my strategy of broadening Danny’s experiences, I took him to an indoor activity centre that catered for toddlers and children up to the age of twelve. It was a thirty-minute drive away. Adrian stayed at home, as he had a friend dropping by, but Lucy and Paula came with me. I explained to Danny before we left where we were going and what to expect, but nevertheless he was very reticent to begin with. He sat with his hands over his ears, overwhelmed by the noise and movement going on around him, and refused to take off his shoes so he could go in the soft-toy area. The girls and I sat with him as he gradually grew accustomed to his new surroundings, and then Lucy and Paula demonstrated some of the activities in the soft-toy area. Eventually he was intrigued enough to venture in. Most of the children were younger than him in this area, so it was less threatening than where the bigger children were. After about half an hour we persuaded him to try the ball pond, which he did, and stayed there for another half an hour. Then he came out and said quietly to me that he’d had enough and wanted to go home. Most children would have happily spent all afternoon in the activity centre, but we recognized that Danny had done well to stay an hour. I was sure that if we came again he would be able to stay longer and try different things. When we asked him if he’d had a nice time and had liked the activities he said, ‘Yes, thank you very much.’

At home he drew a detailed picture of the ball pond with its multitude of brightly coloured balls – only of course Danny’s picture had the balls forming complicated coloured patterns, unlike the real ball pond where they fell randomly. It was truly a work of art and we praised him. When it was finished, I pinned it to the wall for all to see. ‘Danny’s picture,’ he proudly told George.

On Saturday Danny had all-day contact with his parents again and as usual I took him. Until now the driveway had always been empty when I’d arrived. I’d assumed Reva’s car and possibly Richard’s were in the garages, although I’d never seen any sign of Richard. But this morning there was a car parked on the drive, and it wasn’t Reva’s sports car.

‘Is that Daddy’s car?’ I asked Danny as I parked behind it.

‘Yes,’ Danny said.

We got out and as we crossed the drive I saw the outline of a man behind one of the downstairs windows. I thought that, at last, I might meet Richard.

Reva answered the door and was again reserved and a little standoffish. ‘Thank you for bringing Danny,’ she said formally. ‘I’ll bring him home at six o’clock.’

‘Have a nice day then,’ I said to them both. And we said goodbye.

If it was Richard, I wasn’t given the chance to meet him.

When Reva returned Danny at six she didn’t want to come in, and when I asked her if they’d had a good day she said, ‘Yes, not too bad,’ but didn’t volunteer any details. With no feedback I didn’t know if their day had been a success or not. Danny seemed his usual self, so I assumed there hadn’t been a problem, but it was difficult to tell with Danny and some feedback would have been useful.

On Sunday Adrian and Paula went out with their father for the day, and Lucy went to a friend’s house for a few hours to work on a joint project for school. I explained to Danny where everyone was and he too wanted to do some homework.

‘Writing,’ he said, and fetched his school bag.

He took out his pencil, which had a triangular gripper attached to it that helped him hold the pencil correctly so he could form his letters. I fetched some paper and we sat at the table, where I wrote the letters he had to practise as one of his learning targets and he copied them. He concentrated hard and it took him a long time to form each letter, and even after a lot of effort what he produced was more the standard of a three-year-old than a six-year-old. I praised him, though, for he had done his best.

We went for a little walk in the afternoon for a breath of fresh air and then Lucy returned home at four o’clock, followed by Adrian and Paula at five-thirty. They let themselves in but as usual I went to the front door to say hello to John, their father. It was important we kept our relationship polite and amicable for their sakes.

On Monday morning, after a week’s holiday from school, no one was very happy about getting up early and it took a lot of cajoling to make sure everyone left the house on time.

Danny was pleased to see Yvonne again, as she was him.

‘Hello, sweetie,’ she said. ‘Did you have a nice half-term holiday?’