Saving Danny (7 page)

‘Are we expecting anyone else?’ Terri asked.

‘My support social worker can’t make it,’ I said. ‘I’m seeing her later so I’ll update her then.’

‘Is Danny’s father joining us?’ Terri now asked Reva.

‘No,’ she said, but she didn’t add why.

‘Let’s get started then,’ Terri said. ‘I thought this meeting would give us a chance to discuss how we can best help Danny. The three of us and his father are the key people in Danny’s life right now. I’ll make a few notes as we go, but I want to keep this meeting informal. I’m in the process of drawing up a care plan, and as a child in care Danny will have regular reviews.’ She glanced at Reva. ‘We’ll talk about contact arrangements later. Cathy, as Reva didn’t have a chance to meet you before Danny came to you, perhaps you’d like to start by telling her a little about your family and home life?’

‘Yes, certainly,’ I said. I sat slightly forward and looked at Reva as I spoke. ‘I have three children – a boy, fifteen, and two girls, thirteen and eleven, and a cat, Toscha. She doesn’t bite or scratch. I’m divorced and have been fostering for over fifteen years now. I live in …’ I briefly described my house and then my family’s routine, and the types of things we liked to do at the weekends. ‘Danny will, of course, be included in all family activities and outings,’ I said. ‘Whether it’s a visit to a local park or to see my parents. Danny’s bedroom is at the rear of the house and overlooks the garden, so it is quiet and has a nice view. He’ll be able to play in the garden when the weather is good. Last night before Danny went to bed I showed him where my bedroom was in case he needed me in the night, but he slept through. It was a good idea packing his toy rabbit, George,’ I concluded positively, smiling at Reva. ‘That helped him to settle.’

‘Did he ask for the real George?’ Reva asked.

‘Yes. I had to show him he wasn’t outside.’

Terri looked at us, puzzled.

‘George is Danny’s pet rabbit,’ Reva said to Terri. ‘They’re inseparable. I did tell Danny he couldn’t take him to Cathy’s. I think that was one of the reasons he kicked me and ran off and hid yesterday.’

I looked at Terri. ‘I know it’s not usual fostering practice,’ I said, ‘but I was thinking that if Reva and her husband agreed then perhaps George could come and stay with us too? He means so much to Danny. It could help him settle.’

‘Oh, would you?’ Reva cried. ‘I’d be so grateful. Danny loves his rabbit more than anything – probably more than he loves me.’

‘Are you sure that’s all right?’ Terri asked me.

‘Yes. I don’t mind pets, and George lives in his hutch outside.’

‘Danny likes to bring him into the house sometimes,’ Reva said. ‘But he doesn’t make much mess.’

‘I’m sure it will be fine,’ I said.

‘If it doesn’t work out you can always return it to Reva,’ Terri said.

I met Reva’s gaze and we both knew that wasn’t an option. It would be devastating for a child like Danny to be allowed to have his beloved pet stay and then have to return him home while he remained in care. He wouldn’t cope.

‘It’ll be fine,’ I said again.

‘Well, if you’re sure,’ Terri said. ‘I’ll leave the two of you to make arrangements at the end of this meeting to collect George.’

‘Thank you,’ Reva said to me.

I thought the meeting had got off to a good start and that George was now one less thing for Reva to worry about, but then her face clouded and she began to cry.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, taking a fresh tissue from her handbag. ‘You’re all being so nice to me and trying to help. I really don’t deserve it.’

‘Of course you deserve it,’ Terri said. ‘We all want to help you and Danny. You must stop blaming yourself. It’s not your fault Danny is as he is.’ Then to Sue, Terri said, ‘Would you like to tell us a bit about how Danny is doing in school? I expect Cathy will want to help him with his homework.’

‘We don’t actually set Danny homework as such,’ she said. ‘More targets to work towards, in line with his individual education plan. Reva has a copy of the plan and I can have one printed for Cathy, if that’s all right with Reva?’

Reva nodded.

Sue made a note of this and then said, ‘Danny has been in this school a year. He arrived after his parents moved into the area with his father’s job. At present Danny is working towards a reception-level standard. He is difficult to assess educationally because of his communication difficulties, but he is about two to three years behind his peer group. He tries his best but finds the core subjects of English, maths and science very challenging, although I adapt all the work to suit his needs. He does like art, especially drawing, painting and creating patterns. He’s very good at making patterns. Danny has communication and language difficulties – both receptive and expressive – so we have to pace his learning to fit him. His teaching assistant, Yvonne, is good with him and has endless patience. Danny is uncoordinated and finds games lessons difficult, but he likes a good run around the playing field.’

‘Yes, I noticed that last night,’ Terri said dryly.

I smiled.

‘Tell them about his meltdowns,’ Reva now said.

Sue looked at me. ‘Danny can become frustrated when he is unable to express himself or there is too much going on for him, and he has a “meltdown”. Yvonne and I have become adept at spotting the warning signs and can sometimes distract him to avoid it, but not always. He’ll lie on the floor, scream and shout and lash out at anyone who goes near him. It’s very upsetting for him, and for us to witness.’

‘He does it at home as well,’ Reva said. ‘And in public, in the street and in shops. Everyone stares. I know they blame me for not controlling him properly, but I don’t know what to do.’ She was close to tears again.

‘As an experienced and specialist foster carer you’ll be able to cope with Danny’s behaviour, won’t you?’ Terri said to me.

‘Yes,’ I said confidently, although I was feeling far from confident inside.

‘Danny finds it difficult to make friends,’ Sue continued. ‘The children in the class are very tolerant of him and kind, but he doesn’t have a proper friend. He doesn’t understand how to make friends, although Yvonne has tried to show him. In the playground he keeps close to her or one of the other assistants. He can easily become overwhelmed by all the noise and activity, so we often bring him in early. He eats his lunch with the other children in the dining hall, but he takes a long time and is usually the last to finish.’ My heart clenched as I imagined little Danny sitting all alone in a big dining room while the other children were outside playing. ‘Yvonne or one of the other assistants stays with him until he’s finished,’ Sue said. ‘There are a lot of unknowns with Danny and at times he’s very difficult to reach. The school would like the educational psychologist to assess him so that we’re all in a better position to help him meet his full potential. But we need the parents’ permission for that assessment.’

Which begged the question: why hadn’t his parents given permission?

Terri turned to Reva. ‘Is your husband still not happy with Danny being assessed?’

‘He won’t,’ Reva said. ‘He is ashamed. He refuses to admit anything is wrong with Danny.’

‘I’ll have a chat with him and explain why it’s important Danny is assessed,’ Terri said, making a note. Then looking at Sue she said, ‘Is that everything for now?’

‘I think so.’

‘Thank you,’ Terri said. Then she turned to Reva: ‘Would you like to say a bit about Danny? Perhaps tell Cathy about his likes and dislikes, and his routine. Anything you think may help her look after Danny.’

‘Yes,’ Reva said. ‘I’ve made a few notes.’ She unhooked her shoulder bag from the back of her chair and, opening it, slid out a thick wodge of papers. ‘This is Danny’s daily routine,’ she said, passing it across the table to me. ‘It never alters.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, taking it. I began flipping through. Usually a parent will say a few words about their child’s routine, very occasionally they’ll give me some notes, but never in all my years of fostering had I seen anything this detailed before: twenty-three pages of A4 paper covered in small print.

‘Perhaps you could read it later,’ Terri said, aware of the volume of paperwork.

I nodded and smiled at Reva. ‘Thank you. This will be helpful.’

‘Is there anything you want to add to what you’ve written?’ Terri asked Reva.

I assumed there wouldn’t be, given the detail in the paperwork, but Reva said, ‘Yes. That’s just Danny’s routine. Cathy also needs to know what it’s like looking after Danny. I mean, what it’s
really
like.’ She paused, and I saw her bottom lip tremble. ‘It’s been hell,’ she said. ‘Absolute hell. It’s a nightmare looking after Danny. I know it’s my fault, and some days I wish he’d never been born.’ Her face crumpled into tears.

Chapter Six

Prisoners

My heart went out to Reva. She was clearly carrying a huge burden of guilt and self-blame for Danny’s problems, and appeared to be at her wits’ end, and close to breaking point. Terri, Sue and I tried to reassure her, but her feelings of inadequacy were too deeply ingrained, and I wondered how much of this was a result of her husband’s attitude. Reva’s previous comment about him blaming her for having an autistic son weighed heavily in my thoughts. The last thing the poor woman needed was to be blamed by her partner; she needed all the help and support she could get.

Presently Reva dried her eyes and was composed enough to continue. ‘Danny cried a lot as a baby. I thought all babies cried, but my husband, Richard, said his other two children hadn’t cried as much as Danny did. He was married before. Danny’s my only child, so I had nothing to compare him to. But I became exhausted – up most of the night, every night. Danny didn’t seem to need much sleep. I read all the books I could find on parenting. I felt I must be doing something wrong, and if I’m honest Danny’s crying scared me. It seemed as if he wanted something and I should be able to work out what it was. He was out of control when he screamed, even as a baby, and there was nothing I could do to help him.’

‘Didn’t you have anyone you could talk to?’ Terri asked.

‘Not really. I discussed it with my mother when we spoke on the phone, but she said babies often cried for no reason. She lives over a hundred miles from us, so we don’t see her very often. She’s not a hands-on grandmother. Richard’s job was very demanding – it still is – and I’d given up work to look after Danny, so I got up in the night and did most of the parenting. I do now. I tried to keep Danny quiet, because if Richard went to work tired he couldn’t function. I couldn’t function either. I asked the health visitor about Danny’s crying and she said it was nothing to worry about, that it was probably a bit of colic. The gripe water she recommended didn’t help, and Danny kept crying for large parts of every day and most nights until he was eighteen months old. Then it suddenly stopped and he became very quiet and withdrawn. He had some language by then and was starting to put words together into little sentences – you know the sort of thing: “Daddy go work”, “Danny want biscuit”, “Mummy cooking.” But he suddenly stopped talking and would point to what he wanted and make a noise instead. I tried to encourage him to use words, but he would stare through me as though he hadn’t a clue what I was talking about.’

‘Had anything traumatic happened to Danny at that time?’ Terri asked.

‘I’ve wondered that, but I can’t think of anything,’ Reva said. ‘Danny was with me all day and night. I would have known if something had happened. There was nothing.’

Terri nodded. ‘OK. I just wondered.’

‘Although Danny had stopped talking,’ Reva continued, ‘and was very quiet for long periods and all night, he’d started having tantrums. He would throw himself on the floor, screaming, and bang his head on the ground, the wall, a cupboard – any hard object within reach. It was frightening, and when I tried to pick him up he’d lash out, kick and punch me, pull my hair and bite and claw me as though I was attacking him and he had to fight me off. My beautiful baby boy. I was devastated. He’s stopped the clawing, but he still does the other things when he’s frustrated and upset.’ Reva paused.

‘At school we do all we can to encourage Danny to use language to express himself – if he wants something or is upset,’ Sue said.

‘So do I,’ Reva said a little brusquely. ‘But it’s different at school. There are other children here and Danny has respect for you. At home it’s just him and me, and he doesn’t have respect for me. He does what he wants, and if he won’t talk to me there is nothing I can do about it.’

‘Does he talk to your husband?’ Terri asked.

‘Sometimes, a little. But he only sees him for a few minutes in the evening, and at the weekends, when Richard’s not playing golf. Danny doesn’t talk like other children his age do. He doesn’t have a conversation; he repeats what you say or nods or comes out with half-sentences and words that don’t make any sense. Then he gets frustrated because you don’t understand what he wants, and that leads to a tantrum. Yet he can talk to George or himself. Danny would rather talk to himself or his rabbit than to me.’

‘Does Danny smile or laugh or show his feelings?’ Terri asked.

‘Not often. His expression is usually blank. Sometimes he’ll suddenly laugh but it’s not at the right time or in the right context, if you know what I mean. He can laugh loudly – cackle – for no obvious reason. He does it in public. It’s so embarrassing. It’s impossible to know if Danny is happy or not, and he doesn’t show physical affection normally. He’ll let you touch him sometimes, but only on his terms. He let me hold him in the playground just now and carry him into school, but I can’t remember the last time he let me cuddle him. It’s as though he doesn’t want or need anyone else. Not even his mother.’

‘I’m sure he does need you,’ I said. ‘But he has difficulty showing it.’

Terri and Sue nodded in agreement.

‘But other children kiss and hug their mothers,’ Reva blurted, her eyes filling again. ‘I’ve seen them in the playground kissing and hugging their parents goodbye when it’s time to go into school. Danny just turns and walks away with his classroom assistant. She has to tell him to say goodbye to me. He shouldn’t need telling. Other children don’t, but Danny seems to have no empathy or feelings. If I cry in front of him, he just looks at me.’ Reva was in tears again.