Finding Stevie, page 15
‘I thought Facebook had better controls now for keeping paedophiles out,’ Adrian said.
‘It wasn’t Facebook but a much smaller website for young gender-fluid teenagers. I think Joey probably targets websites and forums like these because he knows that’s where he can find vulnerable young people confused about their gender. They are easy targets.’
‘So the website administrators need to do more,’ Adrian said.
‘Yes,’ I agreed.
‘Joey could be a woman,’ Lucy added.
‘It’s possible,’ I said.
‘Will you tell Nana?’ Paula asked.
‘I don’t think so. She’ll only worry, and it’s not like we have young children in the family who need protecting.’
‘You don’t think he would do it again?’ Lucy asked, horrified.
‘No, I don’t, but the police and social services will investigate all possibilities. To be honest, I’m still struggling to believe he’s done this at all.’
‘So am I,’ Adrian said, and Lucy and Paula agreed.
It was a conversation I would rather not have had.
Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep that night and I don’t think anyone else did. At some point I heard everyone get out of bed, and at 2 a.m. I went to check on Stevie. He was in bed, staring at the ceiling. ‘Are you OK?’ I asked quietly so as not to disturb the others.
‘Yes, I guess.’
He wasn’t distraught or in tears, so I said, ‘Try to get some sleep. You know where I am if you need to talk,’ and left him.
I then lay in the darkness of my room thinking not so much about Stevie, but little Kiri and Liam. Whatever had been going through their minds when the abuse had happened? The fact they’d told their gran they had a secret a number of times showed they wanted to tell her and had got close to doing so. What had stopped them? I wondered. Had Stevie bribed them with treats or threatened them not to tell? Or perhaps, aware they’d done wrong, they thought that if they told they’d be in trouble. Doubtless the truth would come out. Pity the poor grandparents, I thought again. I knew that if Stevie was staying with us then I would need to support him, for I doubted Peggy and Fred would be able to. They’d be too shocked, and their main concern would be for Liam and Kiri. I also knew that for the foreseeable future Stevie wouldn’t be allowed home to see his brother and sister until the police and social services were satisfied he no longer posed a threat to them or any other children he might come into contact with. People like ‘Joey’ ruin lives.
Having not slept well, it was an effort for everyone to get up, and for Adrian, Lucy and Paula to leave the house on time, so there was little said beyond ‘hi’ and ‘goodbye, see you later’. I woke Stevie at eight, but he didn’t come down until after Adrian, Lucy and Paula had left. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy from lack of sleep, and he was wearing old joggers and a jersey. He just wanted a bowl of cereal and juice for breakfast.
‘Did you tell them?’ he asked, sliding into his chair at the table.
‘Yes.’
‘What did they say?’
I took my mug of coffee and joined him. ‘They were shocked, obviously.’
‘Do they hate me?’
‘No. But it may take them a while to come to terms with it.’
‘I bet they think I’m a right dick,’ he said, unenthusiastically scooping up a spoonful of cereal.
‘They think you acted foolishly, but you know that now.’
Stevie nodded solemnly, ate another spoonful and then pushed the bowl away. ‘I don’t want any more,’ he said. ‘I’m not hungry. Do you think I should phone my gran and try to explain.’
‘No, not now.’
‘Can I have my phone back?’ he asked.
‘I need to wait and see what Verity says. She shouldn’t be long. If you want to make a phone call then use the landline in the living room.’
‘I don’t,’ he said sulkily. ‘But I’m lost without my phone.’ As most of us would be.
‘I know. Have you got any homework you could finish? Or a book to read until Verity arrives?’
‘I’ll find something,’ he said dejectedly. ‘Will I be going to school this afternoon?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
Hauling himself from the chair, Stevie shuffled into the kitchen, put his uneaten bowl of cereal on the worktop and then went upstairs to his room. I realised I should telephone his school to tell them he wouldn’t be in, as they asked parents and carers to do. Using the handset in the living room, I dialled the school and told the secretary only that Stevie wouldn’t be in school this morning. She was clearly expecting a reason, but I didn’t want to lie and say he was ill, neither did I feel it necessary to tell her the truth at present. ‘I’ll phone if he’s coming in this afternoon,’ I said. ‘Otherwise he’ll be in tomorrow.’
Five minutes later Verity arrived, dressed sombrely in a dark-grey skirt and jacket, her expression serious. She had a business-like efficiency about her and I thought that, as a social worker, she would have to play many roles, but this must be one of the worst – questioning a young person about child sexual abuse.
‘Is he in the living room?’ she asked, going down the hall.
‘No, in his room. Shall I fetch him?’ I wondered if she’d want to talk to me first, but she didn’t.
‘Tell him to come straight away as I’m pushed for time.’
As I went upstairs I heard her mobile go off and knew this emergency would be adding even more to a workload that was probably already stretching her to the limit. I knocked on Stevie’s door. ‘Verity is here. She needs to see you straight away.’ He appeared immediately and came with me downstairs and into the living room. Verity had put away her phone and was now sitting upright on the sofa with a large notebook open on her lap. ‘I’ll need to speak to Stevie alone,’ she said. I nodded and went out.
Sometimes it’s obvious to a foster carer why they aren’t included in a meeting; for example, the meeting isn’t directly relevant to their role, or in the case of the social worker’s six-weekly visit it gives the child a chance to talk in private. But sometimes, like now, being excluded or not invited to a meeting makes no sense at all. Stevie had disclosed to me about what had happened; the social services were expecting me to continue to foster him, so what he told Verity could impact on me and my family. I felt I should have been included and hoped that Verity – as busy as she was – remembered to tell me what I needed to know. Had I still been fostering for Homefinders Jill, as my supervising social worker, would have made sure I was informed. Edith wasn’t as efficient or proactive and it was often left to me to update her.
I went into the front room, logged on to my computer and tried to do some work, but it was difficult to concentrate, and my thoughts were all over the place. I could hear the low hum of Verity’s and Stevie’s voices coming from the living room with silences in between. At one point I thought I heard Stevie crying – another reason for being present would have been to support him. It was over an hour before the living-room door opened and Stevie appeared. ‘You can go in now,’ he said, and disappeared up to his room.
In the living room I found that Verity had put away her notebook and pen and was slipping on her jacket, ready to leave. ‘Stevie is very remorseful about what he’s done,’ she said, now checking her phone. ‘I’ve explained the procedure: that he will be interviewed by the police and an officer will also see Kiri and Liam. The police will look at the evidence and then decide if they are going to prosecute. It’s likely Stevie will be interviewed by the police later today. I’m waiting to hear, so I’ll let you both know.’ She stood.
‘Verity, there are a few things I need to discuss.’
‘Yes?’
‘Joey is still trying to contact Stevie, and that’s not his real name.’
‘Stevie told me, and we’ll pass all this on to the police.’
‘I’ve got Stevie’s phone. I thought it best. He wants it back.’
‘I’ve told him he can’t have it until we’ve seen the police. In fact, I can take it with me now.’
‘I’ll fetch it. And what about his grandparents? I’m assuming he can’t go there at present.’
‘No, I’ve told him that he mustn’t try to contact or see Liam and Kiri.’
‘Shall I keep him off school for the rest of the day?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll get his phone.’
I went through to the front room and took Stevie’s phone from the drawer. I also took out the piece of paper on which I’d written the website address where I’d found details of the actor, Robin, whose photograph Joey had stolen. Verity was now in the hall by the front door and listening to voicemail messages. She took the paper and phone with a nod. I opened the front door and she mouthed ‘speak later’ and went. Not a word about how my family should cope with all of this, or any acknowledgement that it must be difficult for us. I hadn’t expected it, and Verity was very busy, but it would only have taken a few minutes.
Chapter Sixteen
Another Police Search
Stevie couldn’t find anything to occupy himself, and so he didn’t spend all day moping around I found him some jobs to do: oiling a squeaky door hinge – I showed him what to do – and vacuuming his bedroom carpet and round the landing. He went about the tasks apathetic and in silence, but at least he was occupied. At midday Verity telephoned and said the police would interview him at 2.30 that afternoon. She would be present but asked that I take him to the police station – the same one I’d collected him from when he’d gone missing – and she would drop him off after.
Stevie had come down and was trying to wind up the vacuum-cleaner flex as I took the call. I told him what Verity had said, at the same time showing him which button to press on the cleaner to make the flex retract automatically. ‘Will I get my phone back?’ he asked as I finished.
‘I don’t know.’
I stowed the cleaner in the cupboard under the stairs, and then made us a sandwich lunch. We sat either side of the table in the kitchen-diner, awkward and mainly silent as we ate unenthusiastically. Stevie clearly didn’t want to talk and I didn’t feel like making conversation; I was too worried by what was unfolding. When I looked at his pale, dispirited face I felt sorry for him. He’d had enough to cope with before all this, yet at the same time what he’d done to Liam and Kiri couldn’t be minimised. He should have refused to take the photos. The only thing Stevie said during lunch was, ‘Do you think Verity has told my gran yet?’
‘I would think so,’ I said. It seemed Stevie was more worried about letting her down than his grandfather, which was understandable given the friction between him and Fred, and that Peggy had been his and Liam and Kiri’s main care-giver. I wondered where her sympathy would lie.
After lunch I suggested to Stevie that he change from his joggers into something smarter for the police interview. ‘Do you have some dark trousers? Black or navy?’ I asked. He shook his head. ‘OK. Wear your school uniform then.’ As far as I knew, it was the only conservative outfit he possessed.
‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Am I going to school later?’
‘No, there won’t be time, but I want you to look smart for the police interview. I think something dark rather than yellow or pink is more appropriate, and don’t wear any make-up or nail varnish.’ I doubted in his present mood he would consider getting dressed up, but I thought I should say it to make sure. Appearances are important, and looking smart would give the impression he was taking the matter seriously, which is why lawyers always advise their clients to wear a suit for court.
Stevie did as I said and went upstairs to change and then stayed in his bedroom until I called him at two o’clock to say it was time to leave. He came down looking smart in his school uniform and younger – less sophisticated and streetwise.
‘Thanks for your help this morning,’ I said as we left the house.
He shrugged despondently. ‘I used to help my gran with the housework. There’s a lot with the three of us, and Fred thinks it’s women’s work.’
‘Fred has a lot to learn,’ I said lightly as we got into the car. ‘Although I expect he helps your gran in other ways.’
‘He cuts the grass and clears out the gutters,’ Stevie said. I nodded. Now we were on our way he was more talkative, probably from nerves. ‘Verity said the police will want to see Kiri and Liam,’ he said as I drove. ‘But I don’t understand why. They didn’t do anything wrong. It was me.’
‘I know, but it’s usual practice to interview all those involved,’ I said. ‘What reason did Verity give?’
‘She said the police would need to hear their version of events, but I’ve told the truth. They shouldn’t be involved.’
‘The police will handle it sensitively,’ I said. Of course the police would need to speak to Liam and Kiri to make sure that Stevie’s account was true and that he hadn’t assaulted them in any other way. Thankfully, I wouldn’t be present at that interview when Kiri and Liam were asked the details of what happened, as I had been before when I’d fostered children who’d been abused.
As we approached the police station Stevie became very anxious and fell quiet again. He began tapping his foot and nervously smoothing his hair. The road outside the police station was a lot busier than when I’d collected Stevie the night he’d run away, and I had to go down a side road to find a place to park. ‘I’ll see you in,’ I said, ‘then I’ll go home.’
He took a deep breath, bracing himself, and got out of the car. We walked without speaking round to the front of the building where we saw Verity crossing the road. She waited for us. ‘Hello, Stevie,’ she said, then to me, ‘I’ll drop him off once we’ve finished.’ I said goodbye and retraced my footsteps to my car. It didn’t seem appropriate to wish Stevie good luck. I just hoped he told the truth.
An afternoon of conjecture and worry loomed ahead of me. Once home, I couldn’t settle to anything and with one eye on the clock I continuously thought of Stevie and how he was faring at the police station. During my years of fostering I’d taken a number of children to various police stations to be interviewed, and the officers had treated them sensitively when questioning them. However, they’d been the victims; Stevie was older and the perpetrator – not a welcome thought. I assumed that Verity, there in the capacity of Stevie’s social worker and what’s known as an appropriate adult, would support him as necessary.
I opened the freezer door to see what I could take out for dinner later, rummaged inside for a while and then closed the door again without making a decision. In the front room I logged on to my computer and tried to do some work but made so many mistakes that I logged off again. Going into the living room, I stared through the patio windows; the garden was in need of a good tidy-up after the winter, but I couldn’t raise the enthusiasm to do it now.
Paula arrived home at four o’clock and I asked her about her day, then I told her what had happened since she’d left for college that morning: that Verity had come to see Stevie and he was now being interviewed at the police station.
‘Hope he’s all right,’ Paula said, concerned.
‘Yes, so do I,’ I replied.
She poured herself a glass of water and went up to her room. I opened the freezer door and tried again. I’d no idea how long the interview would take – until the police were satisfied, I supposed. When would they see Kiri and Liam? I wondered. I assumed quite soon, or perhaps they’d already seen them.
Shortly after five o’clock, as I was preparing dinner – lasagne – I heard the front doorbell ring. I immediately went to answer it. Stevie stood before me, and behind him I could see Verity in her car with the engine running. Seeing me, she gave a little wave of acknowledgement and pulled away. Some feedback would have been useful, I thought, but she’d be busy, and having spent most of the afternoon at the police station would have a lot of catching up to do.
‘How did it go?’ I asked Stevie as he slipped off his shoes.
‘They’re keeping my phone,’ he grumbled. ‘And they want my laptop.’
‘Do we take it to the police station?’ I asked.
‘Not sure. I think the copper said they’d collect it.’
‘From here?’ It was in his bedroom.
‘Dunno,’ he said moodily. He looked exhausted.
‘OK. But everything seemed to go all right?’
‘Suppose,’ he said, and went upstairs to his room.
With no idea what had been said during the interview, I didn’t know what, if anything, I could say to reassure Stevie, so I gave him some time alone and returned to the kitchen. As I finished making the lasagne I wondered what Stevie had told the police. Was it the same as he’d told me? Or had he – heaven forbid – admitted to something worse? I shuddered at the prospect. Not knowing how worried I should be was a horrible situation to be in and I hoped Verity would phone before long – if not this evening then tomorrow – to update me. I didn’t think it was appropriate for me to press Stevie for details.
Lucy and Adrian arrived home within ten minutes of each other just before six o’clock, and I told them briefly that Verity had taken Stevie to the police station to be interviewed that afternoon, but I didn’t know the outcome. We all ate together shortly after six, but dinner wasn’t the usual chatty occasion. The atmosphere was leaden with the unspoken, and Stevie kept his eyes down as he ate. Eventually Lucy said to him, ‘So how did it go?’
He shrugged dejectedly, and the gloom continued.
