Saving Danny (14 page)

I gently closed the boot lid. ‘You take care of yourself and enjoy your evening with Danny. I’ll see you later.’

‘Thank you,’ Reva said again. We said goodbye. ‘The gates will open automatically as you approach them,’ she added.

I climbed into my car and started the engine as Reva returned indoors. I set off round the driveway and as I approached the gates they parted. I left the drive with the image of the house receding in my rear-view mirror. I felt sorry for Reva and my heart was heavy.
Forget what I said, will you?
she’d asked me, but as a foster carer I couldn’t simply forget what I’d seen and heard if it related to the child’s wellbeing. If Reva was a heavy drinker, as her tolerance of alcohol and her reliance on it in times of stress might suggest, it could have an effect on when, or even if, Danny returned to live with her. All that luxury, I thought; everything she could possibly need in material terms, yet her marriage was falling apart and she was unable to look after her only child.

To give George as comfortable a ride as possible I drove more slowly than usual and took corners and roundabouts very gently. Even so, every so often I could hear him frantically scampering around his hutch. I talked to him reassuringly: ‘It’s all right, George. We’ll soon be there and then you can have a run in the garden.’ Unsurprisingly, he didn’t reply.

I realized I’d need help lifting George in his hutch out of the car and then carrying it round to the back of my house, and I anticipated asking a neighbour. I didn’t want to leave George in the car until Adrian or the girls were home from school and could help me. As luck would have it, as I drew onto my driveway and parked, my good neighbour Sue came out of her house and was about to get in her car. ‘Sue!’ I called, going over. ‘Could you possibly give me a hand for a couple of minutes?’ And I explained what I needed.

‘So, you’re fostering a rabbit now as well,’ she laughed.

But she was happy to help. She came over and together we lifted the hutch out of the car and carried it down the sideway that led to my back garden. We set it on the patio against the wall in a similar position to where it had stood at Danny’s house and where Danny had expected to find it when he’d first arrived.

‘Thank you so much,’ I said to Sue. ‘This is George.’ I lifted the plastic sheet so she could have her first view of him.

‘Oh my stars!’ she exclaimed. ‘He’s enormous. I’ve never seen a rabbit that big before.’

‘He’s a British Giant,’ I said.

‘You’re not kidding!’ She bent down to the hutch for a closer look.

‘He’s a pedigree,’ I said. ‘He’s supposed to be that size. He’s not fat, just big. I think he’s rather handsome in a rabbity sort of way, don’t you?’

She laughed. ‘Yes, I suppose he is.’

‘I’m going to let him out for a run in the garden once I’ve unloaded the car. You’re welcome to stay and join me.’ For I could see that Sue was as fascinated by George as I was.

‘Another time,’ she said. ‘I was just on my way out.’

I thanked her again for her help and, leaving the plastic sheet up so George could familiarize himself with his new surroundings, I returned down the sideway with Sue and we said goodbye. I unloaded George’s hay and food, and Danny’s suitcase and toy box, and carried them into the house. I left the suitcase in the hall to take upstairs later, and carried Danny’s toy box through to the living room where Toscha lay curled up asleep on the sofa. I then stowed the bags of hay and rabbit food in the cupboard under the stairs and went through the kitchen and out the back. It was nearly one o’clock and I was ready for some lunch, but I wanted to give George a run first. I didn’t like the idea of him being shut in his cage without having had any exercise. The day was bright and cold, but because my house and garden was in a street of houses and not exposed there wasn’t the same piercing wind there had been in Reva’s back garden. George was at the front of his hutch now, with his nose pressed against the wire mesh, looking out. There were two sections to the hutch, both with their own doors: a wire-mesh one to his living area and a solid wooden one to his sleeping quarters.

‘Hello, George,’ I said gently, bending down to look at him. ‘Do you want to come out for a run?’ I opened the door to his living quarters and he looked at me, his nose twitching as he sniffed the air. ‘Come on, out you come,’ I encouraged.

He sat very still, sideways on, his long ears erect and his nose twitching continuously as he listened and smelt for any sign of danger. He was truly a magnificent creature. Our rabbit had been a standard bunny-sized rabbit, nowhere near as grand as George. He was majestic and had a real presence. I knew Adrian, Lucy and Paula would be taken with him too.

George was a bit reluctant to come out, possibly because it was all new to him. I slowly reached into the hutch so I didn’t startle him and began stroking the top of his head, between his ears. I remembered our rabbit had liked that. George’s fur was very soft and silky, like velvet. His head lowered a little as he relaxed and then he began sniffing along the front edge of the cage where it met the patio outside, tentatively exploring it.

‘Come on, out you come,’ I said again.

George raised his head and sniffed the air, clearly trying to decide if it was safe to venture out. And who could blame him? Not only were his surroundings different, but so too was the voice of the woman talking to him. Animals don’t like being moved any more than children do.

‘Good boy, George, come on,’ I said, tapping the ground a little way in front of the hutch, hoping to entice him out. ‘There’s lots of nice grass for you to eat down the garden.’ I remembered how our rabbit had liked to eat grass, and plants and flowers!

George went very still for a moment, possibly summoning up his courage, and then with one gigantic hop he leapt out of his cage and landed beside me on the patio, making me start a little.

‘Well done, George,’ I said.

Squatting on my haunches, I stroked his back, running my hand lightly from behind his ears to just above his bobble tail. He stayed very quiet and still, all his senses alert. Then, deciding it was safe, he hopped off across the patio and onto the lawn. I followed him. His ‘bunny hops’ were more like leaps as his strong back legs propelled him upwards and forwards. Now he was out of his cage and moving I could see his full size. He certainly was two feet in length as Reva had said, if not longer. I watched him, fascinated, as he went up and down the lawn, stopping every so often to sniff at something that caught his attention or nibble a patch of grass. He began leaving a trail of pellets in his wake, which doubtless would be good manure for the grass. Then he started circling the tree that grew to the right of the lawn and I followed him round. After a couple of laps he stopped, turned and came to me. I stood still as he sniffed my legs and then tried to nibble my shoes.

‘Oh no you don’t,’ I said, stepping out of reach.

I was in the garden with George for nearly half an hour, playing with him. He was truly a delightful creature who had real character. When he finally flopped out on the grass exhausted and panting, with his legs stretched out in front and behind like a small dog, I guessed he’d had enough exercise for now.

‘Time to go back into your hutch,’ I said. I wasn’t going to leave him unattended in the garden in case he came to harm.

He looked at me, but didn’t move.

‘Bedtime,’ I said.

That same dismissive look and he stayed where he was, stretched out, content and enjoying the space. But I had things to do: apart from lunch, I had Danny’s case to unpack, some housework to do, paperwork, and I needed to start planning the training I was due to give. I couldn’t wait on George all afternoon, much as I’d have liked to. I tried moving away from him while calling his name. ‘Come on, George. Come here. Good boy, time for bed.’ But he stayed firmly where he was.

I went over to the hutch and called him from there, for Reva had said that when it was time for George to go back into his hutch Danny opened the hutch door and he jumped in, but George stayed where he was. I tried opening and closing the hutch door a few times, thinking this might be a trigger, but George stayed put. I decided on a different approach. As far as I knew, all rabbits liked carrots, and George had been nibbling one at Reva’s, so I went into the kitchen, selected a nice big juicy carrot from the bunch and returned outside. George was where I’d left him, stretched out in the middle of the lawn, but when he saw me coming he stood, alert, ready to flee if necessary.

‘It’s OK,’ I said gently as I gradually approached him. I held the carrot out in front of me. ‘Would you like a nice juicy carrot? I bet you would. Yummy.’

George looked at me, as well he might, but his nose twitched. Then he must have picked up the scent of the carrot, because with two big hops he was at my side and taking a bite. I took a step back in the direction of the house, holding out the carrot to him so he had to take another hop towards me for another bite. It was literally the carrot before the donkey’s nose, or rather the rabbit’s nose. So gradually, with me slowly walking backwards and George hopping towards the receding carrot, we went up the lawn and then crossed the patio. There was a little stub of carrot left as we arrived at the hutch and I placed it just inside his living quarters. George obligingly hopped in and I closed the door. ‘Thank you, George,’ I said. It wasn’t how Danny got him into his hutch, but it had worked.

Leaving the sheet up so he could see out, I went inside for a hot soup lunch. No two days are ever the same in fostering – it’s one of the reasons I enjoyed it so much.

Chapter Twelve

Forever?

The afternoon disappeared in the jobs I had to do, and very soon Adrian, Lucy and Paula were returning home from school. As I greeted each of them, I asked if they’d had a good day, and then took them through to meet George. They were all as impressed as I was with George and stroked and petted him in his cage, and gave him tufts of grass to eat and then another carrot. Paula was keen to take him out for a run as I had done, but I said it would be dark soon and I was worried that he might disappear among the shrubbery and we’d have trouble finding him, so we agreed to wait until Danny was home when he would look after him.

The four of us sat down to dinner – Danny was having dinner with his mother – and as we talked I mentioned to Adrian, Lucy and Paula that Danny lived in a very nice house and I described some of it. Often the children we fostered came from badly deprived and impoverished backgrounds, so hearing of Danny’s circumstances gave my children a more balanced view: that children from many different backgrounds could come into foster care if a crisis in the family necessitated it.

‘Why didn’t Danny’s mother hire a full-time nanny to look after Danny if she couldn’t cope? She could afford it,’ Lucy said, which was a fair point. Lucy herself had experienced poverty and neglect before coming into care but still loved her mother, whom she saw a couple of times a year.

‘I don’t know. I suppose Reva wanted to look after Danny herself,’ I said. ‘She gave up her job to do so. It’s the level of care that Danny requires that’s caused difficulties.’

‘Will he be going home eventually?’ Paula asked.

‘I hope so,’ I said. ‘That’s the care plan.’

‘And his mother knows where we live?’ Lucy asked.

‘Yes, she’s bringing him here tonight. I shall be working with his parents.’

It was normal practice for the parents of a child in care under a Section 20 to know the foster carer’s address, whereas if a child comes into care under a court order there may be reasons why the carer’s address is withheld from the parents. Contact then takes place in a family centre with a supervisor present.

At six o’clock we’d finished eating and were clearing away the dishes when the doorbell rang. ‘That’ll be Reva with Danny,’ I said.

As soon I opened the front door Danny shot in with a cry of ‘George!’ Discarding his school bag in the hall, he ran through to the kitchen.

‘He couldn’t wait to get back to see George,’ Reva said.

I smiled. ‘Come in.’

‘Can we bring in the stand for the hutch first?’ she said. ‘It’s sticking out of my car window. It was the only way I could get it in.’

‘Sure,’ I said, and was about to go out when I heard Danny shouting.

‘George! George!’ Then I heard him kick the back door.

Reva heard it too and looked at me anxiously.

‘I’ll ask Adrian to help you with the stand while I see to Danny,’ I said to her.

I left Reva at the front door and went through to the kitchen. Danny was pulling on the door handle and rattling it hard. As I approached he gave the door another kick. Adrian, Lucy and Paula, who were still at the table, were looking very worried, not knowing what to do for the best.

‘Danny, don’t kick that door, please,’ I said firmly, going up to him. ‘George is outside in his cage, safe, and you’ll see him very soon.’ Then to Adrian I said, ‘Could you help Reva bring in the stand for the hutch, please?’

‘Sure, Mum,’ he said, and went out of the room.

‘George needs stand!’ Danny yelled, and kicked the back door again.

‘Danny,’ I said firmly, touching his arm to get his attention. ‘Do not kick the door. As soon as you’re calm I’ll open the door and show you where George is. He is fine.’

‘George!’ Danny yelled again and raised his foot ready to kick the door.

‘No, Danny,’ I said, touching his raised foot. ‘You must not kick the door.’ I sought to make eye contact.

There was a moment’s pause, then, without meeting my gaze, he lowered his foot. ‘Good boy,’ I said.

‘Why did you tell him he was good when he kicked your door?’ I heard Reva say behind me. I turned and saw her standing at the end of the kitchen, with Adrian a little behind her. She must have followed me straight in.

‘Because Danny did as I asked and stopped kicking the door,’ I said.

‘What would you have done if he hadn’t stopped?’ Reva asked.

‘Warn him again, and then tell him that if he didn’t stop he’d lose a privilege.’