Please Don't Take My Baby (6 page)

BOOK: Please Don't Take My Baby
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‘If you need anything in the night call me,’ I said. ‘Don’t go wandering around in a strange house by yourself – you may trip and fall. I’ll leave you to get up in the morning in your own time. I’m usually back from taking Paula to school by 9.15. So I’ll get you some breakfast then, and then we’ll go to your mum’s. Is that all right?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘Goodnight then, love. And not too long on that mobile. You need your sleep.’ For as I was leaving her bedroom, despite being ‘knackered’ Jade had found the energy to start texting again.

‘I’m just saying goodnight to Ty,’ she said.

‘All right, love. Five minutes. Goodnight.’

‘Night,’ she called.

I came out and closed her door.

An hour later when I went up to bed I heard talking coming from Jade’s room. It didn’t take great insight to realize she was on her mobile. I knocked lightly on her door and then put my head round it. Jade looked up from beneath the duvet, where she was very comfortably settled in bed, surrounded by her soft toys and with her phone pressed to her ear.

‘I won’t be long,’ she said, anticipating what I was going to say.

I nodded and came out.

Half an hour later when I’d finished showering, it was all quiet in Jade’s room. I went to bed, read for a while and was just dozing off when I heard Jade’s voice – raised and angry, nearly shouting, and very likely to wake Adrian and Paula. Throwing on my dressing gown, I went round the landing, knocked on her door and went in. Jade was still in bed but was now propped up on one elbow and arguing on the phone.

‘Sorry,’ she said to me as I entered, taking the phone from her ear. ‘He’s being such a dickhead.’

I assumed she was talking to Tyler, although goodness knew what he had or hadn’t done. ‘It’s very late,’ I said. ‘Finish the call now, please. I don’t want Adrian and Paula woken and you need to get off to sleep.’

Jade nodded, but I had the feeling that the moment I was out of the room the call would resume. It was then I remembered some advice I’d heard at a support-group meeting for foster carers, from a couple who were experienced teenager carers. They said one of their house rules was that all mobile phones were left downstairs at night and collected at breakfast. This had the double result of ensuring the teenagers weren’t on their phones all night and also that they got up in the morning.

‘Jade,’ I said, kindly but firmly, ‘if you can’t take responsibility for switching off your mobile for the night, then you will have to leave it downstairs.’ The couple had also said that separating a teen from a mobile was a bit like severing a limb.

Jade scowled. ‘You can’t do that,’ she said defiantly.

‘I hope I won’t have to, so please make the right decision.’

Jade scowled again; then, returning the phone to her ear, said, ‘I gotta go now, Ty. Speak to you tomorrow.’

‘Good decision,’ I said. ‘See you in the morning. Goodnight, love. God bless.’

Chapter Six
Jackie

The rest of the night was quiet, and indeed no sound came from Jade’s room the following morning while Adrian, Paula and I got up, had breakfast and then left for school. I was pleased Jade had cooperated the night before, although I appreciated I might have to deal with the same issue again, as teenagers have notoriously short memories when it comes to requests they’d rather not comply with. I also knew teenagers liked their sleep and can sleep all day if they are allowed to, so I was anticipating having to wake Jade when I returned home from taking Paula to school.

To my amazement as I let myself into the hall I heard music coming from the radio in the kitchen and the sound of someone cooking. I slipped off my coat and shoes and hooked them on the hall stand, and then went into the kitchen. Jade was washed and dressed and, having found the largest frying pan, was cooking herself a full English breakfast: fried eggs, bacon, sausages, fried bread and baked beans.

‘Good morning,’ I said brightly.

I could see she’d already had cereal because her bowl with residue milk, the spoon, the open canister of sugar, the open packet of cereal and the four-pint carton of milk were all still on the work surface, together with the butter, a loaf of bread, a carton of eggs, a packet of bacon, a can of baked beans, a bag of frozen sausages, a mug of tea and a carton of juice which clearly Jade had struggled to open, as it was standing in a large puddle of its contents.

‘That smells good,’ I said.

Jade had her back to me and was concentrating on the frying pan, and she didn’t turn or answer. It was then I saw she was wearing earpieces. I switched off the radio, which seemed superfluous to her needs, and going over lightly touched her arm.

She turned with a small start, removed one earpiece and beamed. ‘Hi! Aren’t you proud of me? I got up without being told, had a bath and hair wash, and now I’m doing me own breakfast to save you the trouble.’

‘Excellent,’ I said. I wondered if Jade was also going to save me the trouble of clearing up after her, but I knew enough of teenagers to know that was doubtful. At least she was up and not lazing in bed. I was pleased with her. ‘Would you like a hairdryer?’ I asked, seeing her hair was damp.

‘Na, it’ll go frizzy. I leave it to dry,’ she said, turning the sausages in the pan.

‘If you’ve finished with these I’ll put them back in the fridge so we can use them again,’ I said. I began gathering together the butter, milk, eggs, sausages, etc., which needed to be kept in the fridge. ‘And Jade, love, can I suggest you turn down the gas a little? When the fat splatters that much and you see blue smoke coming from the pan it usually means the fat is a little too hot.’

‘Oh, yeah, sure,’ she said, jigging in time to the music coming through the one earpiece. I opened the small window to stop the smoke alarm going off.

Satisfied that the house wasn’t going to burn down and Jade had everything she needed, I thought it best to leave her to finish cooking her breakfast. I didn’t want her to feel I was watching or criticizing her. I knew teenagers hated being watched and can easily feel they are being ‘picked on’. In fact I was surprised at just how much I did know about teenagers, even though it was some years since I’d fostered one – knowledge gained from foster-care training and friends’ teenagers, I suppose.

‘I’ll fetch your empty holdall from your room so it’s ready for us to take with us later,’ I called to Jade as I left the kitchen and went upstairs.

‘Sure,’ she returned amicably.

Going into Jade’s bedroom I picked up the duvet, pink leggings, T-shirt and soft toys from the floor and returned them to the bed, although I stopped short of making the bed – Jade could do that. I then picked up the holdall and, leaving it on the landing, went round to my bedroom to collect the empty suitcase that I kept on top of my wardrobe; we’d take both cases with us. As I did, I passed the open door of the bathroom. I knew teenagers weren’t renowned for their tidiness or for clearing up after themselves but how one person could use so many towels and products I’d no idea. I also wondered how hot Jade had had the water, for the bathroom was like a sauna, with water running down the window, mirrors and wall tiles. I opened the bathroom window; I screwed the tops back on the shower gel, bubble bath, shampoo, conditioner, body lotion and toothpaste; and then I mopped up the puddle of water by the bath so that it didn’t seep through to the ceiling below. It was Jade’s first morning and I wouldn’t start nagging her about clearing up, although I now appreciated some of the discussions that had taken place at the foster-carer support-group meetings between carers who fostered teenagers.

I took the case and holdall downstairs and left them ready in the hall. As I did, Jade’s voice called from the kitchen: ‘Cathy! I’ve made you a mug of tea.’

‘That’s kind of you, love,’ I said, going into the kitchen.

Jade had finished cooking and was now seated at the table in the dining area and tucking into her cooked breakfast. She’d set a mug of tea for me in the place opposite her and I sat down. ‘Thanks, love,’ I said again.

‘Would you like something to eat?’ she asked, waving her fork at her plate of food, which did look appetizing, apart from the river of grease and tomato sauce. ‘We can share it if you like.’

‘It’s all right, love. You enjoy it. I had my breakfast earlier with Paula and Adrian.’

‘Have they gone to school now?’ she asked, eating and making conversation.

‘Yes.’

‘They’re nice kids,’ she said. ‘I hope my mum’s got someone to take my brothers and sisters to school.’

‘I’m sure she has,’ I reassured her. ‘We’ll check with Rachel when we speak to her later.’

Jade nodded. She clearly loved her brothers and sisters very much and felt responsible for them. I thought she’d probably had too much responsibility, although I could see how that had happened, with her mother being a single parent and working unsociable hours. Clearly Jade’s help would be missed and I wondered if her mother, Jackie, now regretted their argument and throwing Jade out.

Once Jade had finished eating, I suggested she got ready while I cleared up the kitchen. She didn’t object.

It took Jade over an hour to get ready, slightly longer than it took me to clear up after her in the kitchen. I’m not sure why it took her so long, as she was already washed and dressed; perhaps she was texting. I didn’t nag her to hurry up. During that time Jill phoned and asked if everything was all right, and I confirmed it was and gave her an update. She said I should call her if I needed anything; otherwise she’d phone me again later in the week. Once I had cleared up in the kitchen I went through to the sitting room and made a note of Jade’s home address, which I then looked up on a map to make sure I knew where we were going. When Jade finally appeared I checked with her to make sure she had her front-door key, and she pulled it from her pocket, together with some loose change, her mobile phone, and some chewing gum and sweet wrappers.

‘Can I have a key to this house?’ she asked, as we picked up the case and I opened the front door.

‘Will you need one?’ I asked, uncertain if it was necessary.

‘Yeah, I’ll need one,’ she said. ‘Supposing we’re both out and I come back first. I won’t be able to get in.’

I nodded. I could see her point, although I couldn’t imagine she’d be out very often while she was so heavily pregnant. It was as much as she could do to get out of an armchair or go upstairs.

‘All right. I’ll get a key cut the next time I’m in town,’ I said.

‘We could go after we’ve been home and got me things,’ Jade said as we got into the car.

Perhaps I should have heard alarm bells ringing, telling me that Jade was a little too eager to obtain a front-door key, but I didn’t. I agreed we’d get a key cut after we’d been to her house, and I reversed the car off the driveway with Jade taking a call from Tyler, which continued throughout the thirty-minute journey and only stopped when we arrived on her estate and I asked her where I should park.

Jade carried the holdall and I carried the suitcase, as I followed her down the series of short walkways that linked the estate. It was a modern estate of low-rise social housing with pedestrian-only access to the fronts of the houses and flats. Jade’s house was in the middle of a terrace. There was a large communal green and the front door was like most of the others on the estate: the same style and painted a similar blue. I waited to one side as Jade unlocked the door and then I followed her into a small square hall, which was full of children’s outdoor toys. This led into the living room, the one main room downstairs, and it contained more toys, a long low sofa, a glass-topped coffee table, some bean bags and a large plasma-screen television. Although the room was full of children’s things, it was clean and as tidy as you were likely to make it with four young children. I felt a bit uncomfortable being in Jade’s home when her mother was out, as though I was snooping.

‘Come up with me,’ Jade said, crossing the room to the open-plan carpeted staircase that led off the far side. ‘You can help me get my things.’

I went over and began up the stairs behind her. We were about halfway up when Jade suddenly stopped and exclaimed: ‘Mum! What are you doing here?’

I looked up at the woman now standing at the top of the stairs, who was fastening her dressing-gown cord.

‘I could ask you the same,’ she said, beginning down the stairs.

‘I’ve come to get me things,’ Jade said tersely.

The stairs weren’t wide enough for us to pass, especially with the holdall and suitcase Jade and I were carrying, so I turned and went downstairs. Jade did the same and her mother followed us into the sitting room, where there was an awkward silence.

‘I’m Cathy, Jade’s foster carer,’ I said after a moment, smiling at Jackie.

‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Jackie. Jade’s mother.’

I knew from the placement forms that Jackie was in her mid-thirties; she was about five feet six inches tall with highlighted hair. She was an attractive woman even without make-up and I could see a strong family likeness to Jade.

‘Why aren’t you at work?’ Jade asked, quite rudely.

‘I had a migraine,’ Jackie said, touching her forehead.

‘Are you all right now?’ I asked, concerned, for she looked pale.

‘Not too bad,’ she said; then she added pointedly, looking at Jade: ‘Thanks for asking.’

‘Who took the kids to school?’ Jade asked, or rather demanded.

‘Me. Who else?’ Jackie retorted.

‘Are you alone?’ Jade said, glancing up the stairs. From which I assumed Jackie’s boyfriend stayed sometimes and Jade didn’t approve.

‘I said I was ill, didn’t I?’ Jackie snapped back.

‘It hasn’t stopped you before,’ Jade said, scathingly.

‘You little cow!’ Jackie flared. ‘How dare you criticize me! Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? At least your father married me!’

Jade flinched at this remark, which seemed to have continued from a previous argument. I had the feeling that Jade and Jackie viewed each other as equals rather than mother and daughter; there was an undercurrent of unhealthy rivalry in their exchange.

‘I’m going to get me things,’ Jade said. Grabbing both cases, she stormed off towards the stairs. ‘You coming?’ she demanded of me.

‘You go ahead,’ I said. ‘And make a start with the packing while I speak to your mother.’ Jade huffed and stomped off upstairs.

I wanted to try to establish a relationship with Jackie; and also going with Jade now could have appeared to Jackie I was siding with her daughter.

‘Don’t believe what she tells you about me!’ Jade shouted from upstairs. ‘She never wanted me! But don’t worry, I’m not coming back!’ We heard her bedroom door slam.

Jackie’s eyes immediately filled.

‘Are you all right?’ I asked gently, touching her arm.

She nodded and, taking a tissue from her dressing-gown pocket, blew her nose. ‘We’ve always clashed,’ she said, sitting on the sofa. ‘But it’s unbearable now. I did my best for her and what do I get in return? She ends up pregnant and hating me. After all the warnings and talks I’ve given her and she’s done exactly what I did.’ She gave a long, heartfelt sigh.

I sat on the sofa next to her, for clearly she wanted to tell me more.

‘I told Jade right at the start to have an abortion,’ Jackie continued. ‘But she wouldn’t. She called me a cold-hearted bitch. She says she wants to keep the baby, but I’ve been a teenage mum and it wasn’t easy and I had a husband. I can’t look after Jade and the baby. I barely cope as it is.’ Jackie blew her nose again as fresh tears fell.

‘Of course you can’t be expected to look after Jade and the baby,’ I said. ‘You’ve got enough bringing up your younger children. Now the social services are involved with Jade they’ll help. Your children are lovely,’ I said, glancing at the school photographs on the wall. ‘You’re doing a good job.’

‘Thanks,’ Jackie said, wiping her eyes. ‘I love Jade as I love my other kids, although she doesn’t think so now. I want to help her but I’m not in any position to. She can’t stay with you, can she?’

‘No. She’ll be with me until the social services find her a mother-and-baby placement. Then she’ll live there and be assessed to see if she can keep the baby.’

‘Then what’s she going to live on?’ Jackie said. ‘Babies are expensive and Ty’s not going to be able to support her. What sort of life will they have?’

I fully appreciated what Jackie meant: Jade’s life as a single parent – with no job and no support other than from state benefit – was going to be an existence rather than living. My first impression of Jackie – from the referral – had been that she was uncaring and irresponsible but that wasn’t so. She loved Jade, wanted what was best for her, but couldn’t offer much support as she was struggling to cope herself.

‘I know this sounds awful but part of me hopes Jade fails the parenting assessment,’ Jackie said, her brow furrowing. ‘Then the baby can be adopted into a nice home, and Jade can get on with her life. She was supposed to be staying on at school and taking A-levels. Did you know that?’

BOOK: Please Don't Take My Baby
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