Chapter Twelve
‘I COULDN’T CARE
less, I never wanted to stay here anyway. They’re just fucking stupid and weird and into all that God stuff. It makes me gag being around them.’
Alex could see the heartbreak in twelve-year-old Sophie Leonard’s eyes, in spite of all the bluster and aggression. She felt heartbroken herself, and frustrated, having to restrain herself from lashing out at Sophie’s foster-mother in a way that would get her fired and possibly even sued. For months now Linda Jarrow had been leading Sophie – and social services – to believe that she and her husband were ready to adopt Sophie into their family.
Now, apparently, they’d changed their minds.
At the age of eight, when Alex had first met her, Sophie had been like a little savage, ready to claw the eyes out of anyone who approached her. She had no friends, no life outside her abusive home, apart from the days she took herself off to school, more for something to do than because she wanted to acquire an education. It had taken time, and a saintly amount of patience, but eventually the Jarrows had shown her another way of living that hadn’t included violence, or booze or any amount of neglect. Lately when Alex had visited her she’d seemed so transformed from the feral little urchin she used to know that it was a welcome reminder of how well the system could work at times. Now, out of the blue, the Jarrows had decided that it would be in Sophie’s best interests if another family was found to continue the work they’d begun.
‘But why?’ Alex had protested when Linda Jarrow had rung to break the news. ‘As I said, we think it would be best for Sophie.’
‘Just tell me what she’s done. There must be something. You wouldn’t be doing this otherwise.’
In a clipped, guilty tone, Linda Jarrow said, ‘Every child deserves to be loved and I’m afraid, though we’ve tried, heaven knows we’ve tried, we just don’t feel that we care for Sophie as deeply as we expected to. However, we care enough to want her to be with someone who is fully able to bond with her.’
‘She’s been with you all this time and you’re deciding this now?’ Alex had retorted scathingly.
‘I’m sorry,’ was all Linda Jarrow would say.
Tugging open Alex’s passenger door now, Sophie snarled, ‘I’m not going back to that bitch Tina and her fucking slob of ...’
‘You’re not going to your aunt’s,’ Alex assured her. She hadn’t yet told her that her aunt had long since moved out of the area – perhaps even to Spain to join her sister, Sophie’s mother – it would have only added to the sense of rejection. ‘I’ve got my boss to pull some strings,’ she went on, ‘and it’s worked out for you to go to a really lovely family over in Westleigh.’
Sophie’s taut young face, that had been so sunny and happy over the last few months, remained closed and hostile as Alex left her buckling up while she went to put the last of her luggage into the boot. Linda Jarrow and her husband were nowhere to be seen, but since the front door of the house was still open Alex walked into the hall and called out that they were leaving.
She was half expecting to be ignored, but after a moment Linda Jarrow appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel. ‘Does she have everything?’ she asked, not meeting Alex’s eyes.
‘I think so.’ Alex’s tone was as cold as she could make it. ‘I know what you told me on the phone,’ she continued, ‘but if Sophie’s done something we need to know about ...’
‘She hasn’t. It’s simply that it would be wrong of us to continue any further along the adoption path when we’ve decided that we wouldn’t be the best parents for her.’
Unable to stop herself, Alex said, ‘And never mind how much damage your decision is causing her?’
Linda Jarrow’s colour rose. ‘In the long run I think we’ll all find ...’
‘In the long run she’ll have even more scars to be coping with than she had when she came here, but let’s not worry about that now. Let’s make sure we get her off your property and out of your world ...’
‘Alex, I understand that you’re angry,’ Linda Jarrow cut in sharply, ‘but I don’t find this conversation to be in any way helpful.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you do. Much easier just to throw her out, not worry about where she goes next or even if she has anywhere to go.’
‘I know she’s in good hands with you ...’
‘I’m her social worker, not her mother, or her carer. She needs much more than I can give her, and I thought –
she
thought – she had it with you. Apparently we were wrong, but I hope you realise this can’t be an end to it. There’s a mountain of paperwork to fill in, which is on its way to you, and people a lot higher up than me are going to want the questions properly answered. You see, you can’t mess about with children like they were toys ...’
‘I think you should go now,’ Linda Jarrow interrupted, easing Alex to the door. ‘I’m sorry you’re so upset, it hasn’t been easy for us either, but I wish Sophie well and I can assure you that when the paperwork arrives we will do our best to complete it as accurately as possible.’
‘Aren’t you at least going to say cheerio?’ Alex demanded incredulously.
Linda Jarrow glanced at the car. ‘I don’t think she wants that, so please tell her that if we find she’s left anything behind we’ll be sure to send it on to her.’
‘And just how do you get hopes, dreams, happiness into an envelope?’ Alex snarled, and not bothering to wait for a response she marched back to the car, so angry that she didn’t care one bit that she’d let rip the way she had. She might get into trouble for it later, but as far as she was concerned someone had to speak up for Sophie, and she was certainly not going to allow the Jarrows to think that what they’d just done to an innocent child was in any way acceptable.
As she drove away she had no idea if Linda Jarrow was waving, or even watching, and she guessed Sophie hadn’t either, because neither of them turned to look. They simply kept their eyes straight ahead and stayed that way until they were well clear of the Jarrows’ street.
‘Fancy stopping for a coffee and piece of cake?’ Alex suggested as they approached the seafront. She didn’t have time, in fact she wasn’t supposed to be here at all, but there was no way she could have left it to someone else to come and pick Sophie up. She’d known the child too long not to be there for her today, and she wanted to do something now to try and make her feel better, even if it was just a simple drink and bite to eat.
What kind of person let a child think they were going to be adopted, then said, oh sorry, got it wrong, it’s not going to happen after all?
Better not get into what she’d like to do to them.
When she got no reply from Sophie she glanced over at her, and seeing the tears running down her cheeks her heart immediately flooded with pity and love. Quickly pulling over she gathered the child tightly into her arms. ‘It’s all right,’ she soothed fiercely. ‘Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.’
‘Why – why didn’t they want me?’ Sophie sobbed. ‘What did I do wrong?’
Feeling her pain so deeply that it was making her cry too, Alex said, ‘I don’t think you did anything, sweetheart. They just changed their minds, that’s all.’
‘I don’t get why they’re allowed to do that. It’s just mean. I really liked being with them, even though they made me do all that church stuff and sing and play the guitar which I’m totally rubbish at. I thought they were going to be my mum and dad, and now no one’s going to be, are they?’
Clasping Sophie’s tear-stained face in her hands so she could look into her eyes, Alex said, ‘Maybe not for the moment, but I promise you we’re going to work something out, and you definitely won’t be on your own. You’re going to love your new foster carers, you wait and see.’
Sophie’s eyes went down. ‘What about my real mum?’ she whispered brokenly. ‘Do you reckon she might want me again by now?’
Almost unable to bear it, Alex pulled her into another embrace. ‘I’ll do my best to find out,’ she told her, ‘but try not to get your hopes too high, OK? We’re not too sure of where she is any more, but hey, for all we know she could be back from Spain.’
Still sounding wretchedly hopeless, Sophie said, ‘If she is she obviously doesn’t want me or she’d have come to find me, wouldn’t she? And anyway I couldn’t be adopted without her permission and she said yes, so it just goes to show how much she cares. She was OK about giving me away.’
Feeling the resonance with her own life, Alex said gently, ‘You know she has a problem with drink, so until she gets that sorted out it’s ...’
‘She’ll never get it sorted out. She’s like that bitch Tina, it’s all she ever thinks about, booze and blokes. Well, I couldn’t give a fuck about them either. I hope they fucking die, both of them.’
Dismayed by the aggression and language that she hadn’t heard from Sophie in a long time, Alex watched her turn away and wished she knew what more to say. Just thank God the Fenns were able to take her in. As soon as Alex had realised there were no local authority places for Sophie in their area, she’d gone straight to Tommy to ask him to fix it for the child to go to a family she felt instinctively would want to help.
Half an hour later Maggie Fenn was waiting on the doorstep to greet them, and to Alex’s relief as Sophie got out of the car she appeared more cautiously impressed by the smart house and garden than hostile towards the unknown.
‘How lovely.’ Maggie smiled warmly as she came to shake Sophie’s hand. ‘You’re as pretty as Alex told me.’
Though Alex had said nothing of the sort she certainly wasn’t about to admit it, especially not when it was true.
‘I’m Maggie and you must be Sophie,’ Maggie was saying.
Sophie mumbled something that Alex didn’t quite catch, but fortunately Maggie wasn’t looking offended, so Alex breathed easily and came round the car to greet Sophie’s saviour herself.
‘We’ve got a bedroom all ready for you,’ Maggie was informing Sophie as she ushered her inside. ‘And there’s some soup on for lunch. Maybe Alex can stay and join us?’
Feeling her stomach rumble, Alex replied, ‘I’d love to, but I’m afraid I have to run. I’ll come back again later, if it’s OK, to make sure she’s settled in all right.’
‘That’s fine, and of course she will be. Ah, here’s Britney come to meet you. I wondered where she’d got to. Britney’s the same age as you, Sophie. She’s been here for a little while now, so I’m hoping she’ll give us a good rating.’
Turning her wary scowl into a long-suffering smile, a yellow-haired, freckle-faced Britney said, ‘Yeah, you’re cool.’
‘Oh, such praise,’ Maggie gasped in joy. ‘So now why don’t you take Sophie inside and show her where everything is, while I have a quick chat with Alex.’
After throwing Alex a look that Alex couldn’t quite read, Sophie obediently followed Britney into the house while Alex tugged open the boot to start unloading. ‘I can’t thank you enough for this,’ she told Maggie. ‘It’s all happened so fast – one minute they wanted her, the next they were telling us to come and get her. You can probably imagine how traumatised she is by it, so you might find her a bit difficult at first, unable to trust, scared of forming any sort of attachment, but she’s terribly sweet at heart and I don’t think it’ll take long to win her over, because all she really wants is to be loved.’
‘Of course it is,’ Maggie agreed sympathetically, ‘and you don’t need to worry, we shall do our best to make her feel just that. Here, let me take those,’ and seizing a couple of bags she led the way inside. ‘It’s a pity you can’t stay for lunch, but maybe another time. Now, tell me quickly before you rush off, how did the play go on Saturday? Another dazzling success I hope.’
Loving her for asking, and pushing aside the sudden painful thought of Jason, Alex replied, ‘It was great, thank you. And please pass on my thanks to your brother for the lovely things he said on our Facebook page. Everyone
was dead impressed, getting praise from a big-time lawyer.’
Twinkling with delight, Maggie said, ‘I’m not sure he’d describe himself that way, but as I keep telling him, he’s far too modest. Anyway, I shall be happy to pass along your message, and I have your number should any problems crop up with Sophie, but I’m sure they won’t. Just let me know when you’re on your way back and I’ll let them out of the attic. Joke! Sorry, not in good taste.’
Laughing, Alex shouted up the stairs, ‘Sophes, I’m off. See you later, OK?’
‘OK,’ Sophie called back.
Turning to Maggie with raised eyebrows, showing how impressed she was that Sophie hadn’t kicked up a fuss (so far), Alex thanked her again and ran back to the car.
She’d had to reschedule her morning appointments when the call came in about Sophie, and now, before rushing over to see the Wades, she must try to get hold of the police officer, Scott Danes, who’d sent her a copy of an autopsy report she hadn’t requested.
‘I don’t suppose you found anything to concern you when you read it,’ he remarked, in an accent very like Tommy’s when she finally got through to him.
‘Not really,’ she replied, ‘but I’m guessing you sent it for a reason, so I’m hoping you’ll tell me what the reason is.’
With a sigh, he said, ‘I was called to the scene when it happened. Little boy, suffocated to death by an asthma attack. Terrible, tragic, I’m sure you can imagine. Three years old he was – it makes you wonder what it’s all about, taking a kiddie that young. The parents were in shock; the father was the worst, he just couldn’t seem to take it in. We found him hunched up in a garden shed, and had the devil of a time trying to get him out. He didn’t want to go near the mother, he was blaming her, saying she should have saved him, that she hadn’t done what she was supposed to when the boy had an attack.’
‘And had she?’
‘It would seem so. The trouble was it didn’t work and she panicked. She tried giving him the kiss of life, CPR, anything she could think of, which is what caused the
bruising you’ll have read about around the boy’s nose and mouth, and to his chest.’ He broke off for a moment, leaving Alex to wonder what this was leading to. ‘I don’t really know what I’m trying to tell you here,’ he said, ‘I only know that something wasn’t right in that house and I’ve never really been able to get it out of my mind. So when I heard you were making enquiries about them ... You must get this in your job all the time, where your gut tells you one thing while the facts, or what looks like the facts, are telling you another.’