Finding Stevie, page 25
He shrugged despondently.
I went over to him. ‘Stevie, worse things than this happen in life. I know you’ve had a lot to cope with recently, but just learn from it.’
‘I’ll tell Grandpa,’ he said, suddenly meeting my gaze. ‘He’ll go and see them and complain like he did to the police and social services.’
‘Tell him by all means, but I don’t think he will be able to do any more.’
‘Yes, he will,’ Stevie said confrontationally. ‘You don’t know. He’ll see a solicitor.’
‘OK, fine. I’ll be downstairs making dinner if you need me.’ I came out of his room.
I thought Stevie had an inflated view of what his grandfather was capable of, probably as a result of Fred expounding his achievements. I could picture Fred as he told Stevie and Peggy of his battle with the police and social services. Peggy regarded his authority with some reverence, just as Stevie was now doing. However, if this did go to court, having his grandparents there supporting him would be positive for Stevie, providing Fred didn’t try to tell the magistrates how to do their job! They would expect humbleness and remorse from the accused.
Stevie was quiet and sullen at the dinner table, and when Lucy asked him what the matter was, he replied, ‘If you must know, that fucking railway company are going to prosecute me.’
‘Sorry I asked,’ Lucy said with attitude, while Adrian and Paula kept their heads down and concentrated on their food.
‘Please don’t swear, Stevie,’ I said. ‘We don’t know for certain you will be prosecuted.’
‘There’s a bloody good chance!’ he returned.
The rest of the meal continued in an uncomfortable silence, and as soon as Stevie had finished he pushed back his chair and went up to his room.
‘He can be so rude sometimes,’ Lucy said. ‘He needs to grow up.’
‘He’s got a lot on his mind,’ I replied, ‘and we all have our moments.’
Stevie spent the rest of the evening in his room and I checked on him a few times. He was always propped on his bed with his laptop open, which he closed when I went in. I asked him if he wanted to talk, but he shook his head.
In the morning Stevie seemed a bit brighter. ‘I’m going to Gran’s straight after school,’ he told me.
‘Are you having dinner there?’
‘Probably. I need to take the letter to show Grandpa so he can deal with it.’
I didn’t want the original letter leaving the house in case it got lost, so I quickly went downstairs and into the front room where I photocopied it, and then gave the copy to Stevie.
‘Have a good day,’ I said as he left to go to school. ‘See you around seven-thirty.’ Which was the time he usually returned from his grandparents’.
That afternoon Verity replied to my email and said she would write a short report to accompany Stevie’s statement for the railway company and asked me to send the letter to her, as she would take care of it. I put it in an envelope straight away and posted it that afternoon.
Adrian, Lucy, Paula and I had just sat down to dinner that evening when the doorbell rang. Not expecting Stevie until much later, I was surprised to see him standing there, his face set like thunder.
‘He’s a fucking wanker!’ he said as he came in, and then stormed up to his room. At the same time the house phone rang. I answered it in the hall. ‘Is Stevie with you?’ Peggy asked anxiously.
‘Yes, he’s just this second arrived, and not in the best of moods by the look of it.’
‘That’s because Fred told him he was an idiot for getting on that train without a ticket.’
‘Oh, I see.’
‘He said he’d stuck up for him about the photos of Liam and Kiri, as he knew he hadn’t meant any harm, but getting on a train without a ticket was plain stupidity and he could sort out his own mess.’
Clearly this wasn’t the reaction Stevie had expected. ‘OK, Peggy, thanks for letting me know. I’ve sent the letter from the railway company to Verity and she is going to deal with it, so don’t worry. I’d better go and make sure Stevie is all right.’
‘Thanks. He hasn’t had any dinner either. Sorry.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll give him some. At least he came back and didn’t go missing again.’
‘I suppose that’s something. Dear me, it’s one upset after another. I’m at my wit’s end.’
‘I can imagine. Look after yourself.’
We said goodbye, and as I began upstairs Paula called from the kitchen-diner, ‘Mum! Your dinner is getting cold!’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll reheat it.’
I knocked on Stevie’s bedroom door. ‘Can I come in?’
There was no reply, so I knocked again and then eased open the door and went in. Stevie was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall and his head in his hands, crying. He looked up as I entered. ‘Everyone hates me,’ he said through his tears. ‘My life isn’t worth living.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Letter
I sat on the floor beside Stevie and held him as he cried his heart out. I felt so sorry for him. The railway company threatening to prosecute and his grandfather’s rejection had been the final blow. When his tears began to subside, I passed him a tissue. As he dried his eyes I tried to reassure him and put what had happened in some perspective. I said we were all on his side, that Verity would write a report for the railway company and help him with his statement. I said his grandfather had reacted angrily because he was worried, but he loved him just the same. Stevie nodded, wiped away his tears, and did seem less distressed, but I wasn’t sure how much I had truly helped him, for nothing had really changed. I hoped the referral to CAMHS came through quickly so he could talk to a trained therapist about his feelings at this difficult time. Half an hour later I had managed to persuade him to come downstairs for some dinner.
I reheated the two plates of casserole in the microwave while Stevie sat at the dining table. Adrian, Lucy and Paula had finished eating and had gone. I sat opposite Stevie. He didn’t want to talk as we ate, and neither of us wanted pudding. He carried his plate and cutlery into the kitchen and then said he was going to his room to do his homework.
‘All right, love, but don’t sit alone and fret, please. Come and talk to me.’ How many times had I said that? I thought.
Of course I checked on him every so often, and at various points during the evening Adrian, Lucy and Paula knocked on his door and spoke to him too. It wasn’t just about letting Stevie know we were concerned for his well-being; I was also checking that he wasn’t doing anything to harm himself. When I’d first started fostering, I’d looked after a teenage girl who’d sat in her bedroom and self-harmed. It was only after she’d gone out and I saw the blood that I realised to my horror what she’d been doing. I’ve never forgotten that experience and still blame myself for not realising sooner that she was self-harming.
The following day Stevie went to school but didn’t return home. I called his mobile and left a message to phone or text me. He didn’t. At six o’clock, when I knew his grandparents would have returned home from seeing Kiri and Liam at the Family Centre, I telephoned them. Peggy answered and I asked her if she’d heard from Stevie, as he hadn’t returned home from school. She said she hadn’t and wouldn’t really expect Stevie to go there after the argument he’d had with Fred. I hadn’t expected him to either, but I thought I should check. I asked her how Kiri and Liam were and then said goodbye and phoned the social services. The duty social worker told me to wait until 7.30, three hours after Stevie should have been home, to report him missing to the police.
I served dinner and another mealtime passed with the atmosphere heavy from Stevie’s disappearance. At 7.30, following the duty social worker’s instructions, I reported Stevie missing to the police. We all then spent yet another very unsettled evening, worried about Stevie and waiting for the police to arrive to search the house. Eventually at 10 o’clock, with no sign of the police or Stevie, Lucy said she was knackered and was going to bed and that the police had better not come into her room and wake her, which of course they would.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
‘It’s not your fault, Mum,’ Adrian said.
‘Stevie needs help,’ Paula added.
‘I know,’ I agreed.
I sat in the living room with my mobile on the sofa beside me, staring unseeing at the television with the sound on low, tired and wretched and at a loss to know how I could help Stevie. At around 11.30 the doorbell rang. It was pitch dark outside and I went down the hall and peered through the security spyhole in the door. By the light of the porch I could see Stevie with two police officers, both of whom I recognised from before.
‘Thank goodness you’re safe,’ I said to Stevie as I let them in.
‘We’ve been here before,’ one of the officers remarked.
‘Yes,’ I said wearily, and led the way into the living room, hoping their arrival hadn’t woken Paula, Lucy or Adrian.
‘I’ve had a good chat with Stevie in the car,’ the female officer said as we sat down. ‘He now appreciates he mustn’t keep running away but needs to talk to his social worker.’
‘Good,’ I said, thinking, if only it was that simple! ‘Where did you find him?’ I glanced at Stevie, who couldn’t meet my gaze.
‘At the mill pond,’ the male officer replied. I knew where he meant: it was a local beauty spot, but over two miles away, and not on a bus route.
‘How did you get there?’ I asked Stevie.
‘Walked,’ he said sullenly, without looking up.
‘Why did you go there?’ I asked.
‘Because I wanted to. It’s peaceful. My gran used to take us there when we were little.’
‘But not late at night.’
‘A local resident saw him and phoned the police,’ the male officer said. ‘He reported that a lad had been sitting by the pond all evening and he was concerned for his safety.’
‘That was kind of him,’ I replied. ‘Have you had anything to eat and drink?’ I now asked Stevie. He nodded.
‘We’ll send a report to the social services,’ the male officer added and, satisfied, they stood to leave. They both said goodnight to Stevie and I saw them out as Stevie went up to his room.
Once the officers had gone I went up to make sure Stevie was all right and say goodnight.
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ he said moodily.
‘No, OK. You know where I am if you need me.’ I came out.
I made a mental note to ask Verity to speed up the referral to CAMHS and mark it as urgent. It worried me that Stevie had been by that mill pond all evening. It was deep, and some years ago a young man had taken his life there by drowning.
That night I lay awake for a long time thinking about Stevie and where this would all end. It seemed we kept taking one step forward and two back. Just as we emerged from one crisis, the next hit.
The following morning Stevie left for school at the usual time but didn’t arrive. The school secretary telephoned at 9.30 to check if there was a reason for his absence and my heart fell. I told her there wasn’t. I tried Stevie’s mobile and it went through to voicemail. I left a message asking him to contact me to let me know he was safe. I telephoned Verity, who was at her desk, and brought her up to date. She said I should wait until 4.30 (the time Stevie should be home from school) before reporting him missing to the police. She was concerned for Stevie’s safety and agreed he needed to see a therapist as a matter of urgency and said she’d contact CAMHS. She also said she’d try Stevie’s mobile and leave a message on his voicemail.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, mid-morning the mail arrived and included another official-looking letter for Stevie – not from the railway company this time; the envelope bore the stamp of the county police. I assumed this was notifying Stevie of the outcome of the police investigation into the offences of sexting and taking and distributing the indecent images of Liam and Kiri. But surely Verity would have been informed, and I’d just finished speaking to her. Wouldn’t she have told me?
I held the envelope up to the window but couldn’t read the print on the letter inside. I turned it over and thought about picking it open and resealing it, but it was stuck fast. I wondered if I should phone Verity, but what would I say? That a letter had arrived from the police and did she know what it contained? It sounded like a waste of her time, and I was sure she would have told me if she’d known. Unless this was unrelated and Stevie was in even more trouble with the police.
I couldn’t settle to anything and over the course of the morning convinced myself that Stevie was indeed in more trouble. He was missing and the unopened letter on the kitchen worktop loomed at me. Around 12.30 I got in my car and drove to the mill pond to see if he was there. He wasn’t, just a retired couple sitting on a bench and watching the baby ducklings. It was a lovely, tranquil spot, with waterlilies and the scent of flower blossom during the day, but at night I could imagine the deep water became dark and menacing. I returned to my car and drove to the park near his grandparents’ house, where Stevie had been before when he’d gone missing. It was largely empty now during the school day, with just a few dog walkers. I walked around the perimeter, checked the children’s play area, the pavilion, bandstand, benches and tennis courts, just as Paula and I had done, but there was no sign of Stevie. Increasingly anxious for his safety, I returned to my car and drove home.
An hour later the landline rang and I answered it in the kitchen where I was staring through the window, wondering where Stevie could be. ‘Cathy, it’s Verity. Is Stevie back yet?’ she asked.
‘No, and he hasn’t been in touch. But a letter from the police has arrived for him today.’
‘It’ll be the outcome of the police investigation. I’ve just opened one too.’
My heart began to race and my mouth went dry. I leant against the work cabinet for support, dreading what was to come next.
‘I’ve left a voicemail message for Stevie, two actually,’ Verity continued, ‘but I thought you’d want to know. The police have accepted Stevie’s version of events and won’t be prosecuting him on either the sexting charge or that of taking and sending indecent images.’
‘Thank goodness,’ I breathed. I could hardly believe it. Relief flooded through me.
‘Yes, it is a relief,’ Verity said. ‘Although I’ve left Stevie a message, I will need to speak to him. On another matter, I’ve written to CAMHS, and I’ll write to the railway company once I’ve seen Stevie.’
‘Thank you so much. I’ll tell him.’
‘Hopefully he’ll be able to settle down now and get on with his life.’
‘Yes, I hope so. Do Peggy and Fred know?’
‘Yes, I’ve just spoken to them. I’m in a meeting soon, so I’ll phone or email you with a date and time when I’ll visit Stevie.’
I was trembling with relief as I returned the phone to its base, and said a silent prayer of thanks. Although Stevie had done wrong in taking and sending those photos, I knew there’d been no evil intent on his part and he wouldn’t do it again. It appeared that the police thought so too. Verity had said she’d left Stevie a voicemail message telling him, but I wanted to make sure he understood. I called his mobile and it went through to voicemail. ‘Stevie, it’s Cathy. The police are not going to prosecute you for taking the photos of Liam and Kiri, nor for the sexting. Come home. I know you weren’t in school today, but you’re not in any trouble.’
I’d just put the phone down when it rang again and I snatched it up. ‘Peggy here,’ she said, her voice brighter than I’d heard it in a long while. ‘Has Verity told you the good news?’
‘Yes, just now. I am so relieved.’
‘So are we. Does Stevie know yet?’
‘I’m not sure. He hasn’t come back yet. Verity and I have both left him messages on his voicemail, but I don’t know if he’s listened to them.’
‘I’ve left a message too,’ Peggy said, clearly elated. ‘As you can imagine, Fred is cock-a-hoop. He said we’d still be waiting on the police if he hadn’t made a fuss and complained.’
What effect Fred’s intervention had had in speeding up the police investigation wouldn’t be known, and it didn’t matter. The main thing was that Stevie was not facing serious charges in court with the possibility of a custodial sentence. It was the right decision.
‘Fred has told Verity we’ll be collecting Liam and Kiri from school and bringing them home this afternoon,’ Peggy continued. ‘She wanted us to wait until she or the foster carers had spoken to the children and prepared them for returning home. Fred told her bollocks, they were our kids and didn’t need preparing, and they should never have left home in the first place. The carer is going to pack their belongings and drop them off later, but we’re having our kids home as soon as school finishes.’
‘I am pleased.’
Although it was advisable, as Verity had said, for Liam and Kiri to be prepared for the move rather than Fred and Peggy suddenly arriving at school, I fully appreciated they wanted them home as quickly as possible. To be honest, had they been my children, I think I would have done the same.
‘Verity is going to tell the school we will be collecting them,’ Peggy added. ‘Their teacher will tell Liam and Kiri.’
‘Good.’
‘But what isn’t so good,’ Peggy continued, ‘is that Verity has told us if Stevie visits us he shouldn’t be left alone with Kiri and Liam. That although he won’t be prosecuted, there are still safeguarding issues because he took the indecent images. He’s never denied that.’
‘I can see why she said that,’ I said.
‘Fred couldn’t. I won’t tell you his exact words, it would turn the air blue. But I agree with him that Stevie isn’t a threat to them or any other children, and never has been. He knew what he was doing was wrong at the time but was blackmailed into doing what he did by that Joey. I told Stevie in my voicemail message that we’re looking forward to having him home again as soon as possible. Must fly now, we’re leaving soon to collect Liam and Kiri from school.’
