Finding Stevie, page 24
I looked at their worried faces and was deeply touched by their concern. Here were three young adults willing to give up their Sunday to search for someone they’d only known for five months and who was causing them so much anxiety and disruption. But that’s the nature of fostering. Bonds quickly form between the foster family and the child and can remain in place for years, sometimes forever. ‘That’s kind of you,’ I said, ‘but it’s your day off, and I’ve done all I can. The police will be looking for him. Do what you were planning to do.’
But, of course, with the worry of Stevie hanging over us, none of us could settle to much or enjoy what should have been a relaxing day. If it crossed my mind that Stevie was acting selfishly by causing us all this upset, I dismissed it. He was in a very dark place and I was sure in normal circumstances he wouldn’t have knowingly upset us. His troubles had begun when his grandfather had refused to accept his gender identity and had gone on from there, with Stevie becoming increasingly lost as a person.
During the course of the morning I tried his mobile every hour or so, but it always went through to voicemail. I left two messages: ‘Stevie, can you get in touch, please, to let me know you’re OK?’ And, ‘Stevie, it’s Cathy again. Please call or text.’ He didn’t.
Mid-afternoon, Mum phoned for a chat. I didn’t tell her that Stevie was missing, nor about the trouble he was in. There was nothing she could do but worry. Thankfully she didn’t ask specifically how he was, just, ‘How are you all?’ Which allowed me to say, ‘We’re fine, Mum. How are you?’
The afternoon ticked by. Outside the weather was sunny – a complete contrast to our feelings. Lucy and Paula decided to go for a walk, as they’d been in all day. I would have joined them, but I had to wait for the police. They finally arrived at 4 p.m. Just one female officer whom I hadn’t met before. She knew Stevie was in care and that he had a history of running away. We sat in the living room as she took down some details, although I assumed she would have seen much of this on the police computer, including the ongoing investigation, and that Stevie had spent most of Friday night in a police station 100 miles away. She was with us for about an hour, during which time Paula and Lucy returned home and came to join us. The officer concluded her visit by searching the house. Lucy and Paula stayed in the living room, but Adrian was in his room, working on his laptop. She apologised for disturbing him. ‘No worries,’ he said amicably. ‘We’re used to it here.’
I smiled grimly. ‘Some of the other young people we’ve fostered have gone missing,’ I explained, although I’m not sure that made it sound any better.
We returned downstairs and the officer said goodbye to Lucy and Paula. I showed her to the door and she was just about to leave when her phone rang. She paused to answer it and I thought I heard the call operator say Stevie’s name. She listened and then looked at me as she replied. ‘Yes, I’m still with his foster carer.’ I couldn’t hear what the operator said, but the officer then said, ‘OK, thanks, I will.’ Ending the call, she said to me, ‘Stevie is at his grandparents’ house. Mr Jones has just phoned.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, utterly relieved.
‘I suggest you call them to make arrangements to bring him back if this is where he’s supposed to be.’
‘Yes, I will,’ I said. I thanked her again and she left.
I told Adrian, Lucy and Paula that Stevie had been found with his grandparents and they were obviously pleased. The atmosphere lifted, although they felt that he could have texted to say he was there, or at least that he was OK, to stop us all from worrying.
‘I know,’ I said, ‘but Stevie isn’t thinking straight at present. We have to make allowances for him.’
But I wondered how long he’d been at his grandparents’ house and felt that Peggy or Fred could have phoned me to say he was safe and well. That Stevie was there at all seemed to suggest Fred had in part stopped blaming him for Liam and Kiri going into care. I wasn’t wholly surprised he’d gone there. They were his family and they’d been close for many years, and he was in crisis. I supposed I could have phoned them to see if Stevie was there as I had before, but I’d assumed he wouldn’t be or they’d have contacted me. Perhaps they were holding me responsible for the mess Stevie was in – and to be honest, I did feel responsible. Although I really didn’t know what else I could be doing to help him.
It was therefore with some trepidation that I picked up the phone in the living room and called Mr and Mrs Jones. Fred answered with a very brusque ‘Hello?’
‘Fred, it’s Cathy. The police tell me Stevie is with you. How is he?’
‘He’ll live,’ he said curtly.
‘Shall I come to collect him now?’
‘No. Peggy is doing him some dinner. I’ll drop him off later.’
‘OK, thanks. Do you know roughly what time?’
‘When I’m good and ready,’ he said. ‘Goodbye, Cathy.’ He hung up.
Although I wouldn’t take offence, again I could see how Fred’s manner would have affected Stevie. Young people are often more sensitive to harsh words, as they haven’t built up the protective armour that adults have. For Stevie to be on the receiving end of Fred’s curt and abrasive comments would have undermined his confidence and feelings of self-worth. I half expected that by the time Fred returned Stevie they would have had another argument and Stevie would be in an even worse place. However, I was pleased to be proved wrong. When Stevie returned home shortly after 8 o’clock, he looked a lot less stressed and began by apologising. ‘I’m sorry I cleared off like that. Grandpa said it was wrong of me. I won’t do it again.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Life’s Not Worth Living
‘Good, I’m pleased to hear that,’ I said as Stevie came in. I closed the front door. ‘Did Fred bring you home?’ He was nowhere to be seen.
‘Yes. He said to say good evening to you.’
I watched as Stevie slipped off his shoes and hung his jacket on the coat stand. ‘Do you want anything to eat?’
‘No, I’ve had dinner, but I’ll get a drink of water.’
‘Do you want to talk?’
‘Not really. I’ve been talking to Gran. She said she’ll phone you next week.’ I nodded. ‘I’m going to my room to do my homework,’ he said. ‘I’ve got school tomorrow.’
‘All right. I’ll be in the living room if you want me.’
He went into the kitchen and I heard him run the tap for a glass of water, then, as he passed the living room, he looked in and said, ‘Thanks.’
‘What for?’
‘Everything. I’ll try not to bolt again.’
‘Good.’ I smiled, and he managed a small smile in return.
I heard him go upstairs where he said a pleasant hello to Paula, who was just coming out of her room, before continuing to his room. Whatever had happened today – I assumed at his grandparents’ – had clearly had a positive effect. I wouldn’t press him to talk if he didn’t want to. I’d learnt that with teenagers – my own and those I’d fostered – there’s a time to talk and a time to stay quiet and let them have their space, just as there is with adults.
Stevie stayed in his room, I assumed doing his homework, for the next hour and then watched a film on his laptop, and the evening continued for us all as normal. No one stayed up late, as we all had to be up in the morning. Before I went to bed I wrote up my log notes and sent Verity another email, updating her on what had happened since the one I’d sent the day before. I slept reasonably well; so too did Stevie, and he took some waking in the morning.
There was the usual Monday-morning bustle to leave the house on time with everyone passing each other on the landing, stairs or in the hall and then calling goodbye as they left. I had a tidy-up after they’d gone and then sat at the computer in the front room, doing some admin work. An email arrived from Verity in response to mine saying she’d referred Stevie to CAMHS and would ask the police when their investigation was likely to be completed, although she felt they would contact her as soon as it was finished. She also said she’d spoken to Mr and Mrs Jones, but that was all. She didn’t say what had passed between them, so I assumed it didn’t affect my fostering of Stevie.
Stevie came home from school on time, ate with us and then did his homework. While he wasn’t his old self, he was still significantly better than he had been recently, and I thought again that whatever had happened while he’d been at his grandparents’ had done him some good. On Tuesday morning he went to school as usual and then texted in the afternoon to say he was going to see his grandparents straight after school and would have dinner there, and then come home. I didn’t see a problem with that. Kiri and Liam weren’t there and clearly Peggy and Fred were happy with Stevie going, so I texted back: OK, thanks for telling me. Have a nice time.
Stevie returned around 7.30 and I asked him how things were.
‘It was very quiet without Kiri and Liam,’ he said.
‘I can imagine. How are your grandparents?’
‘Not happy. Gran says she’ll phone you.’
That was all he said, and again I didn’t press him further. He went upstairs to his room to do his homework, and then later chatted to Lucy and Paula, mainly about popular bands and music.
I didn’t hear anything further from Verity, but on Thursday afternoon Peggy telephoned.
‘How are you?’ I asked her straight away.
‘Coping,’ she sighed. ‘Now we’re doing something. Fred arranged for us to see a solicitor and we’re fighting to get Liam and Kiri back. The solicitor is reviewing our case now and is very hopeful. He says taking Liam and Kiri into care was an overreaction by the social services, so we should be able to get them back soon.’
‘That’s sounds promising,’ I said.
‘Yes. We also discussed Stevie’s problems with the police.’
‘Good. How are Liam and Kiri?’ I asked. ‘I believe you see them Monday, Wednesday and Friday at the Family Centre.’
‘The first time was dreadful. They were so upset – we all were – but now we only get upset when we have to say goodbye at the end of contact.’
‘It’s very difficult,’ I agreed. ‘Have you met their foster carers?’
‘Oh yes, we see them at the start and end of contact and they tell me what Kiri and Liam have been doing. They’re a nice couple and have helped to put our minds at rest. I know Kiri and Liam are being well looked after, although we obviously miss them dreadfully. But it’s manageable now we know it won’t be for long. We’ve told the children they’ll be coming home soon.’
‘Has Verity told you they’ll be home soon?’ I asked.
‘No, but the solicitor is optimistic.’
My heart sank. It’s very unwise to tell children in care that they will be going home until it is 100 per cent certain and a date has been set. It could take many weeks, even months, for their solicitor to obtain records and review their case, and it wasn’t his decision whether Kiri and Liam returned to their grandparents, but the social services’, and ultimately the court’s. At present Liam and Kiri were in care under a Section 20 – voluntarily – as was Stevie, so technically Peggy and Fred could remove them from care and take them home whenever they wanted to. However, that would be unwise because if the social services thought there were still safeguarding issues they would immediately apply for a court order – within hours – to keep them in care. If the order was granted, Peggy and Fred would lose their parental rights and it would need another, more lengthy court case in the future to have them returned. I assumed their solicitor had explained all this to them. Peggy and Fred had made a promise to their grandchildren they couldn’t fulfil, and it was likely to make them very unsettled and anxious. But I didn’t think it was for me to tell Peggy.
‘Stevie seems to be coping better now he’s seeing you both,’ I said.
‘Yes, he understands that Fred is on his side and no longer blames him for Liam and Kiri being taken into care. He also told Stevie he’s put in a complaint to the police about the way they’ve handled the investigation and how long it’s taking. Fred is fighting on all fronts! I’ve never seen him so animated.’ She gave a small laugh.
‘Good. Well, thanks for phoning and letting me know what’s going on,’ I said.
‘You’re welcome.’
Peggy said she’d phone again when she had any more news, which she hoped to do soon, and we said goodbye.
While all this was positive, I knew that if Kiri and Liam weren’t returned home as Peggy and Fred were expecting, they were all – including Stevie – going to be bitterly disappointed and very likely angry. Stevie’s behaviour would suffer and I was sure Kiri’s and Liam’s would too. But it was positive that Peggy and Fred were now able to support Stevie.
Stevie came home from school on time that afternoon and again on Friday, talked to us and did his homework. He spent most of Saturday on a sun lounger under the tree in the garden with his earbuds in listening to music, and then on Sunday he went to see his grandparents while the rest of us visited my mother. Outwardly, therefore, Stevie appeared far more relaxed and less anxious than he had done for some time, although I knew the matter of the police investigation and now the fare evasion must be playing on his mind, as it was on mine.
It was only ever going to be a matter of time before we heard from the railway company, and on Monday morning when the mail arrived there was an official-looking letter addressed to Stevie. Having seen his grandparents the day before, Stevie came straight home from school that afternoon and was in good spirits. I waited until he’d poured himself a glass of juice before I handed him the letter, which I’d kept with my mail on a countertop in the kitchen.
‘What’s this?’ he asked, looking at it, puzzled.
‘I think it’s the letter from the railway company.’
‘Oh,’ he said. He was going to take it up to his room to read but I asked him to open it with me, so we could decide what needed to be done.
He set down his glass of juice and opened the letter. There were two sheets of closely printed paper. He began reading the top sheet and then sighed and passed it to me. ‘You read it.’
The letter was on the railway company’s headed paper; it appeared to be a standard letter but with Stevie’s details inserted. It began with the date of the offence. I read it out loud.
‘On 20 May you were spoken to by an authorised member of staff with regard to an incident of the non-payment of a rail fare. Before the company proceeds further with its investigations, we would like to give you the opportunity of responding with your explanation concerning it. Please complete the second page and return it to us immediately. Do not delay. This is a serious incident and failure to respond to this letter or provide a satisfactory explanation with regards to this incident will result in legal action being taken.
‘I must inform you that should legal proceedings be invoked, in addition to any fines imposed by the court there will be an application for £150 as a contribution to our costs. Offences are recordable, and should you be convicted you will receive a criminal record.
‘Criminal record’, I read again, and, trying to hide my shock, I looked up. Stevie was watching me, waiting for my response. ‘You need to fill in this form with your account of the events,’ I said evenly, referring to the second page. ‘But I want to speak to Verity first and let her see this letter. She needs to know, and it’s possible she may be able to add something to help.’
‘Like what?’ Stevie asked.
‘That there were mitigating circumstances surrounding what you did. You had some problems and didn’t intentionally get on the train without a ticket and set out to defraud the company, as they are suggesting here.’
‘But I did,’ he said. ‘I knew I didn’t have a ticket when I sneaked on.’
I looked at him, so honest and naïve. ‘Yes, I know, Stevie, and you’re not going to lie, but you told me the reason you did that was because you wanted to get lost. You were feeling low and confused. You wouldn’t have done that if you’d been your normal self, would you?’
‘No, I guess not,’ he agreed.
‘Perhaps Verity as your social worker can add something and say she has made a referral to CAMHS. I’m not saying it will have any effect on the outcome, but she needs to know anyway. Shall I phone her or do you want to?’
‘You can,’ he said gloomily and, taking his glass of juice, went up to his room.
I’d have done the same for my own children. I’m sure most parents and carers would. Stevie had made an error of judgement in getting on that train without a ticket, but he hadn’t been himself, and to receive a criminal record for something so relatively minor seemed preposterous to me. Surely a hefty fine would have been more appropriate? It also seemed a massive waste of the court’s time. If someone is repeatedly found travelling on a train without a ticket then it’s probably apt to prosecute them, but surely not for a first-time offender?
I telephoned Verity straight away, but she wasn’t at her desk. A colleague checked her diary and said she wouldn’t be in the office again until the following afternoon, as she had a home visit to make in the morning. Thanking her, I decided to email Verity so that she would know about the letter from the railway company as soon as she logged on to her computer. I scanned the letter and attached it to the email, and suggested that a report from her might help Stevie’s defence. I asked her if she wanted me to help Stevie complete his statement or if she did. Aware of how busy she was, I pointed out that the railway company had stated our response had to be made without delay. I sent the email, filed the letter in my fostering folder and then went upstairs to Stevie. He was lying on his bed, not doing much. I told him I’d emailed Verity, and that the letter from the railway company was in my folder for safe keeping, but he could have it if he wanted it.
‘I don’t,’ he said grumpily.
I could tell from his expression and general demeanour that receiving this letter had set him back, although we’d been expecting it. ‘Don’t let it get you down, love,’ I said. ‘Verity and I will help you deal with it.’
