Girl Alone: Joss came home from school to discover her father’s suicide. Angry and hurting, she’s out of control. (7 page)

‘It’s summer,’ I said. ‘That’s why you feel hot. Fetch yourself a glass of water and then come into the living room, please. I need to talk to you.’

‘Tell me now,’ she said, dumping her school bag in the hall. ‘I’m tired. I need to lie down before I get ready to go out later.’

‘You won’t be going out until we’ve had a chat,’ I said firmly. ‘Do as I ask, please.’

Joss looked at me, slightly taken aback. ‘I don’t want a drink. I’ll come with you now and get it over with.’

‘All right.’ I led the way down the hall and into the living room. The patio doors were slightly open and the fragrant summer air wafted in. Adrian wasn’t home yet, and Lucy and Paula were both in their rooms chilling out.

‘What is it?’ Joss demanded as we sat down – me on the sofa and Joss choosing the chair furthest away from me.

‘I saw Miss Pryce today,’ I said.

‘Yeah, I know. What’s the old bat been saying about me?’

‘She was very pleasant and said you were a clever girl but you’d slipped behind with your work. She said you were capable and had been doing well, but now you had a lot of catching up to do. She wants to help you achieve, as I do, but Joss, why did you lie to me about Chloe?’

‘I didn’t!’ she snapped defiantly, as a reflex action.

‘You did, love,’ I said evenly. ‘Surely you must have known you’d be found out at some point.’ I held her gaze.

‘OK. I did then. Sorry.’ But there was no sincerity in her apology.

‘I was hurt that you took me for such a fool and persuaded Chelsea to lie too.’

‘I didn’t. It was her idea,’ Joss said vehemently, jutting out her chin. ‘She thought it would look better if you checked up at the school.’

‘I realize that was the reason behind it, but it would never have worked long term.’

‘I won’t be here long term,’ Joss said tartly. ‘Did you tell Miss Pryce?’

‘No. There were more important issues to discuss.’

‘Like what?’

‘Your school work.’

Joss shrugged.

‘Miss Pryce said you were very able and had been getting good grades, but over the last year you’d fallen a long way behind. I’m hoping that now you are settled with me you will be able to catch up. We both want to see you do well.’

‘I don’t really care,’ Joss said.

‘I do. Education is important.’

‘I don’t have to do my school work. You can’t force me to, and I don’t see any point in doing it. It’s boring and it’s not going to do me any good.’

‘It might not seem so now,’ I said, ‘but a good education will help you to get a good job, so you can have a comfortable lifestyle and feel fulfilled in your work. It’s also interesting to learn new things.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Joss said moodily.

‘Maybe not, but from now on you’ll be doing an hour’s school work every evening before you go out, and at the weekend, so you can catch up.’

‘What!’ Her eyes blazed as she stared at me, defiant and annoyed. ‘You can’t do that. I’ll tell my social worker,’ she threatened.

‘That’s all right with me. I’m sure Amelia will agree. It says in your behaviour contract that you can go out after you’ve done your homework. I’m helping you by setting the guideline of an hour.’

‘I won’t do it!’ Joss said, folding her arms across her chest. ‘I’ll sit in my bedroom for an hour and listen to music and paint my toenails.’

‘No. You’ll be down here for the hour so I can help you with your work if necessary.’

Joss stood to leave.

‘Sit down now, Joss,’ I said forcefully. ‘I haven’t finished yet.’

‘What?’ she demanded. I waited for her to return to her chair.

‘The young men in the car you and Chelsea have been seen getting into. Miss Pryce is concerned and so am I. Who are they?’

Joss opened and closed her mouth, clearly trying to find the best-fit answer. ‘Chloe’s – I mean Chelsea’s – uncles,’ she said.

‘Both men are Chelsea’s uncles?’

‘No. One is, and the other is his friend.’

‘The uncle who brought you home last night?’

She nodded but couldn’t meet my gaze.

‘Does your mother know them?’

‘No. I met them after I left home.’

‘So they’re not old friends?’

‘Not really. Sort of.’

‘How old are they, Joss?’

‘Twenties, I guess.’ She shrugged.

‘Do they work?’

‘I think so.’

‘What do you do when you are out with them?’

‘Hang out and have a good time.’

‘You’ve been arriving back at school very late for afternoon lessons.’

‘I won’t again,’ Joss said.

I looked at her carefully. ‘Joss, I really don’t think it’s a good idea for two young girls to be joyriding in a car with much older lads.’

‘Why? What have you got against them?’ she demanded.

‘Nothing personally. But I think you and Chelsea are placing yourselves in an unsafe position. One thing can lead to another, especially when drink and drugs are involved. Do they give you the alcohol and cannabis?’

‘No. Sometimes,’ Joss said. ‘Is that all? Have you finished now?’

‘Joss, I can’t stop you from seeing them. If I tried, you’d go behind my back. But you are sensible, and I’m asking you to think about what I’ve said and make the right decision.’

‘Yeah, OK, I will,’ she said, eager to be away. ‘I’ll do my hour’s homework now and then I can go out straight after dinner.’

Joss couldn’t see the danger as I could. Having been a foster carer for a long time, I was aware of what could – and did – happen to vulnerable girls like Joss who were hurting, needy, had their guard down and desperately wanted to be loved. They were easy prey for unscrupulous older lads, and although Miss Pryce hadn’t said much about Chelsea, I’d formed the impression that she was as vulnerable and open to exploitation as Joss. However, as Joss’s foster carer I was limited in what I could do to keep her safe, so I hoped that with firm and consistent boundaries, praise, love and concern, and using what few sanctions I had, Joss would start to listen to reason and turn a corner before it was too late.

On a positive note, Joss did do her school work that evening as I’d asked her to – not graciously or happily, but she did it. I told her I wanted her to work at the table in the kitchen-cum-dining-room while I made dinner, and after some moaning, scowling and muttering she fetched her school bag, plonked it on the table. She asked for a Biro and then took out some books and began writing while I peeled the potatoes. As we both worked, every so often I praised her and asked her if she needed any help, but she didn’t. She sighed theatrically from time to time, looked pointedly at the wall clock, sighed some more and then continued writing. When Paula and Lucy came down to get a drink and ask what was for dinner, they looked surprised to see Joss sitting at the table, studiously poring over her books.

‘You got homework?’ Lucy asked her.

‘Yeah. Your mum’s making me do it,’ Joss said, putting down her pen and sitting back in her chair, ready for a chat.

‘Cool,’ Lucy said.

‘No, it isn’t. Have you done yours?’

‘Most of it,’ Lucy said.

‘What subjects did you have?’

‘Maths and English.’

‘Yuk,’ Joss said. ‘Are you good at them?’

It was clear that Joss would much rather chat than do her homework, so once Lucy had her drink I asked her to leave Joss alone until she’d finished her school work.

‘Yeah, that’s right,’ Joss said, ready with one of her smart-alec retorts. ‘Do what your mum tells you. I can’t concentrate if you keep talking to me.’

Thankfully, Lucy didn’t rise to the bait.

At 5.45 p.m., exactly one hour after Joss had started her homework, she packed away her books with another theatrical sigh, stood and handed the Biro to me.

‘Keep it. You need a pen for school,’ I said. ‘Would you like me to check your work?’

‘No, thanks. Can I go out now?’

‘After dinner.’

‘I’ll get changed, then. As I’ve done my homework can I stay out later tonight?’

I looked up from what I was doing. ‘You can anyway,’ I said. ‘It’s Friday and you’re allowed out until ten-thirty, although I’d be very pleased if you came home before then. I think it’s far too late.’

‘As I’ve done my homework, can I stay out until eleven?’ Joss said, trying to push the boundaries as always.

‘No. Ten-thirty is late enough. How are you getting home? Shall I come and meet you?’

‘No. I’ll get a lift back.’

Which I had to accept. ‘Well done for doing your school work,’ I added. ‘I’m pleased.’

She shrugged and sauntered away to change as though she didn’t care, but I knew she probably did. Everyone likes to receive praise and hear good things about themselves; it gives us a warm glow and increases our self-esteem, although we may not show it.

Joss ate her dinner quickly and as soon as we’d all finished she went out, wearing tight jeans and a not-too-skimpy top, which I was pleased about. While she was out I wrote up my log notes, including the details of the appointment I’d had with Miss Pryce and the concerns she’d raised about Joss’s school work and behaviour, and the fact that she’d been seen getting into a car with two men, one of whom Joss had told me was Chelsea’s uncle. I would also telephone Amelia on Monday and make sure she was aware of this latest worry. Miss Pryce had said the social services had been informed but that she hadn’t heard anything further. Perhaps it was innocent, but I had concerns and I felt it needed to be followed up.

As 10.30 p.m. approached I went up to my bedroom, which is at the front of the house, and watched out for Joss’s return. If Joss was brought home by car I’d make a note of the registration number and model, so that if she went missing again I would have more information to give the police to help find her. Although it was dark outside, the street lamps were on and with my bedroom light off I could see a good way up the street. The road on which I live is reasonably quiet, and the few cars that passed continued along without stopping. Then, at 10.40 p.m., I saw Joss walking down the street, alone; if she had been given a lift then she must have been dropped off out of sight at the end of the road. She made a sorrowful figure: small, by herself in the dark, and without her usual armour of couldn’t-care-less bravado. I thought she looked sad too, so when I opened the door I said, ‘Hello, love. Is everything all right?’

‘I guess.’ She stepped in.

‘Are you sure? You seem a bit low.’

‘No more than usual,’ she said.

I looked at her and my heart clenched. ‘Oh, Joss, I wish you could talk to me, love. I’m sure it would help.’

‘And tell you what?’ she said, her defences going up.

‘About what’s making you so unhappy.’

‘That’s easy,’ she said, turning to go upstairs. ‘My dad hanged himself and my mum married a creep. Goodnight – I’m going to bed.’

‘Joss,’ I called after her, but she continued upstairs.

I tried to talk to her again when I said goodnight, but she didn’t want to know.

She had another nightmare in the early hours, and as usual I was out of bed as soon as I heard her first scream. By the glow of the dimmed light in her room I could see she was sitting up in bed clutching the duvet to her chest. ‘Don’t touch me! Get away!’ she said. For a moment I thought she was talking to me, but her eyes were closed and it seemed she was still asleep and this was part of her nightmare.

‘Joss, it’s all right,’ I soothed, going over. ‘You’re safe. There’s nothing to worry about. It was just a bad dream.’

‘Bad dream,’ she repeated groggily in her sleep.

‘Yes, you’re safe now. Snuggle down and get some rest.’

I eased her down onto the bed and she curled onto her side. I waited until she was in a deep sleep again before I came out and returned to my bed. Although Joss always went back to sleep quite quickly after a nightmare, it took me much longer. That night I lay in the darkness, my thoughts wrestling with Joss’s pain and trying to work out what on earth I could do to help her. The last time I looked at the bedside clock it was nearly 3.30 a.m. and when I woke it was 8.15. Thankfully, it was Saturday, so I didn’t have to be up early.

When I’m fostering younger children I’m always up, showered and dressed before them, even at weekends, but with Joss and my family being that much older and all of them liking a lie-in, it was nearly nine o’clock before I went downstairs. I fed Toscha and made a cup of tea, which I took into the living room. It was another lovely morning, so I opened the patio doors and then sat on the sofa, sipping my tea with birdsong and the early morning air drifting in. Five minutes later the telephone rang. I reached out and picked up the handset from the corner table. ‘Hello?’

‘Cathy, it’s Linda, Joss’s mum. I hope I haven’t woken you – I waited until nine o’clock.’ I was surprised to hear from her. Although we had each other’s telephone numbers, we hadn’t used them before.

‘I’m up,’ I said. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘No. Eric said I should phone you. I’ve received a letter from the police. Joss is in trouble again and it happened after she came to you.’ My heart sank. ‘Joss has been warned before about underage drinking, and this time she swore at a police officer. It says this is her final warning. Next time she’ll be prosecuted in court.’ Linda’s voice shook.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, immediately feeling responsible. ‘When did this happen?’

‘The letter says Saturday, 5 June, at approximately 8.45 p.m. at Maple Park. She must have given the police this address.’

‘Linda, can you hold on a moment, please? I want to check my diary to see where Joss was supposed to be that evening.’

‘Yes, go ahead. I’m so upset, and angry that she’s allowed out so much.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said again. ‘Just a minute.’

I set down the phone and my cup of tea and went into the front room where I kept my fostering folder and other important documents in a locked drawer. I took out my log and turned to the date Linda had given. My heart sank further as I realized it was the Saturday I’d taken Joss to the cinema to meet Chelsea (then known as Chloe).

I returned the folder to the drawer and went back into the living room where I picked up the handset. ‘Linda, Joss was supposed to have been in the cinema that evening with a friend. I took her there myself, and collected her after.’

‘They couldn’t have gone in,’ Linda said. ‘The park where they were found drinking isn’t far from the cinema. Joss is a very silly girl. She won’t be given another chance. She’s had so many warnings. I really thought she might change when she came to you.’

I shared Linda’s depressing disappointment. ‘I’ll talk to her,’ I said.

‘Yes, as soon as she is awake, please. And also, can you tell her that Eric is out this morning until one o’clock, so she can come and see Kevin and me if she wants to.’

‘I will. Linda, I’m sorry this has happened, but hopefully I can talk some sense into Joss. The letter from the police may give her the shock she needs.’

‘It may,’ Linda said without any conviction.

I didn’t wait for Joss to wake up. Leaving my tea half drunk, I went upstairs to Joss’s bedroom where I gave a loud knock on her door and went in.

‘What time is it?’ Joss groaned, turning over.

‘Time you woke up,’ I said. ‘I need to talk to you.’

‘Can’t it wait? I’m tired.’ She pulled the duvet over her head.

‘No, it can’t wait.’ I sat on the chair a little way from her bed. ‘Your mother has just telephoned me. She’s very upset, understandably.’

Joss groaned. ‘What now?’

‘She’s received a letter from the police, a final warning. Can you think what it might be about?’

‘No,’ came the muffled reply from beneath the duvet.

‘Maple Park on Saturday, 5 June,’ I said, ‘when you were supposed to be at the cinema with Chelsea. Joss, you must have known you’d be found out!’

Another groan. ‘Don’t care,’ she said.

‘Well, I do. Pull the duvet down and look at me when I’m talking to you, please.’

I waited. There was no movement at first, but then she gradually lowered the duvet, although she didn’t look at me.

‘Apart from the fact that you lied to me – you didn’t go into the cinema at all – you were drinking alcohol in a public place and then swore at a police officer! How stupid was that? Your mother will show you the letter when you go home this morning, but it’s your final warning, Joss. Make no mistake. You’ve run out of chances. Any further instances and you will be prosecuted in a court of law and very likely sent to a young offenders’ institution. Then you certainly won’t be drinking in the park or joyriding in a car with young men. In fact, you won’t be allowed out at all without an escort.’ My voice had risen with the passion of what I was saying. How could she have been so stupid? Joss knew I was annoyed.

‘Sorry,’ she said.

‘Joss, you’ve said sorry many times before, but you haven’t changed your behaviour! Perhaps you think it’s funny, a joke, to behave like this, but I guarantee you won’t be laughing when you’re in court and then locked up. How do you buy alcohol, anyway? You don’t look eighteen.’ It is illegal in the UK to sell alcohol to anyone under eighteen and shopkeepers are obliged by law to ask for ID if there is any doubt.

‘I don’t buy it,’ Joss said. ‘My friends do.’

‘What friends? The men in the car? Chelsea’s uncle?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What a good influence they are!’ I said caustically. ‘Do they give you cigarettes too?’

‘Yeah, I guess.’

‘And drugs?’

‘No.’

‘Do they take drugs?’

‘Dunno.’

I sighed. ‘Can’t you find some better friends, Joss? You’re worth more than this.’

‘I like them,’ she said defensively. ‘We have a laugh. I won’t get into trouble again, I promise.’

What more could I say? ‘I just hope you’ve taken on board what I’ve said this time, Joss, I really do. Because you won’t get another chance.’

‘I know. I’ll stay out of trouble; really, I will.’

‘I hope so. Now, your mother also said that Eric is going out this morning, so you can go home and see her and your brother. But I want you to come straight back here afterwards. You’ve homework to do this afternoon. I’ll be stopping your pocket money for the incident in the park.’

‘But that’s not fair!’ Joss cried indignantly, sitting up in bed. ‘That happened weeks ago. You can’t stop my pocket money for that now.’

What wonderful logic, I thought. ‘I am stopping it, Joss. Your mother and I have only just found out about it. But you can earn it back as usual.’ I would have liked to have stopped Joss from going out that night too, but that wasn’t an option. ‘Now get dressed so you can go and see your mother and brother. You’d better apologize to your mum, and tell her it won’t ever happen again. I feel sorry for your mother, I really do. She doesn’t need all this worry.’ Neither do I, I thought.

I left Joss to wash and dress, and when she came downstairs for breakfast she was subdued. She apologized again and promised she would do her best to behave in future, and also find some better friends who were more her age. Ever optimistic, I began to allow myself to hope that maybe she meant what she said this time and her behaviour would improve in future.

Linda had said that Eric would be out of the house until one o’clock, so I assumed Joss would leave when he arrived. Allowing time for her to walk to the bus stop plus the thirty-minute journey home, I was expecting her to return to me by two o’clock. When she hadn’t arrived by three o’clock, I telephoned Linda.